In which things are not going according to plan.
I had a plan. I had a simple, easy, reasonable plan. Spend six weeks writing three five thousand word stories for the winners of my livelongnmarry auction before studying insanity and papers descended upon my head.

Now two weeks after the deadlne, I've got a grand total of ONE finished story, one that's going into a second draft with a new ending (needs more angst), and one that's just hit the ten thousand word mark and ain't looking back. How did this happen? How? I had a PLAN!

Fnergh.

Thankfully my requesters are awesome patient people who are very understanding about my complete and utter failure of time management.

Okay, enough whining.

Pimping a new Fic Fest, sickficfest, devoted to bad, bad characters doing bad, bad things. Prompts close tonight and claims run through the end of October.

The one fic I did manage to finish is posted below.

---

"In Service of the New God"
By Ravenbell
Based on a scenario by Jessieheart (Yay jessieheart!)
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: Light Yagami/Touta Matsuda
Summary: In an alternate world where Light prevailed and Matsuda was the only survivor of the Yellow Box Warehouse massacre, Matsuda still doesn't understand why his life was spared.



--

"What happened to my mommy?" The look on Hikari's face was very serious for a five-year-old girl.

Even though Matsuda had been expecting the question, it didn't make it any easier to answer. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to her at the breakfast table, so they were face to face. "I think that's something that you should ask your father, sweetheart," he said gently.

Her soft little mouth drooped into a frown. "But I never see my father, Uncle Touta. I'd have to wait forever to ask him. So I want to ask you. Auntie Sayu says you knew my mommy, didn't you?"

Matsuda smiled at her. "Yes, I did. She was very beautiful and very smart. And she could be very silly too." He reached out to smooth back her mussed-up yellow hair. "She was just like you."

Hikari batted his hand away, giggling. But the serious look in her eyes didn't go away. "Tell me, pleeease?" she pleaded. "I know she had an accident when I was a baby, but an accident means lots of things, and my teacher said that sometimes when you call something an accident, they don't really mean an accident, because it's something secret or something bad that people don't want to talk about, so I –

"Hikari!" Mikami said sharply.

The girl clapped her hands over her mouth. "Sorry," came a muffled whisper.

Matsuda sighed, getting to his feet. "We'd better get going, or you're going to be late for school." He got up and retrieved his coffee mug, pausing when he saw that Hikari was still looking up at him with wide, expectant eyes, waiting for an answer.

He knew he shouldn't get her hopes up, but he couldn't help himself. "I'll talk to your father first and we'll see what he says, okay sweetheart?"

A brief pause while she thought about it. "Okay."

---

Five years ago, when Matsuda had still been working on the Kira case, he would never have imagined he'd find himself guarding one of Kira's biggest secrets. That had been before he'd found out that Kira was really Light Yagami, and that Light's girlfriend, Misa Amane had been his willing accomplice and partner in crime. And that had been before the massacre at the Yellow Box Warehouse, where Matsuda had been the only one Light had spared for reasons he'd never fully understood.

He thought, maybe, it was because that he had always been sympathetic to Kira's cause and had questioned the actions of law enforcement from the beginning. The police had found it reason enough to consider Matsuda the prime suspect for Kira's crimes, and nothing he said or did could change their minds. The investigation had been a nightmare, and any ties Matsuda still had to the department were all permanently severed after that. It was a full two years before the police dropped their surveillance on his movements, and Matsuda knew that many were still suspicious of him.

Light had been strangely absent from that period of Matsuda's life. He'd had an alibi for the afternoon of the massacre, and the police were content to leave him alone. After so many years of seeing Light and the rest of the investigation team on a daily basis, they were suddenly just gone, and Matsuda had been forced to fend for himself. Nobody had even come by to tell him to keep his mouth shut about Kira's identity. After all, nobody believed anything he said. No one took his claims about Kira's true identity seriously. And what could Matsuda do against someone as smart and powerful and ruthless as Light Yagami alone? Retaliation had been impossible to consider.

At his lowest point, Matsuda had spent a couple of months sitting in his apartment, convinced Light was going to write his name in the notebook for ratting Light out to the police. He'd been pretty well scared out of his mind, jumping at shadows and entertaining some really wild paranoid delusions. At one point he'd almost gotten on a plane for Germany, planning to disappear for good.

But he hadn't.

And then one day, the phone rang. And Light was on the other end, telling him that Misa was dead.

---

Matsuda rolled down his car window and hit the button on the intercom unit outside of the main gate. He could hear the whir of the ceiling cameras focusing on him, feeding his image to security monitors somewhere inside the compound.

The intercom crackled. "Good morning, sir. Do you have an appointment?"

"Yes." He leaned out of the window and spoke as clearly as he could. "This is Touta Mikami. I have an appointment with Vice President Yagami."

"One moment please."

Matsuda ducked back inside, and watched the security gate open just enough for his car to pass through. After navigating the narrow utility tunnels, the space opened up, and a series of massive buildings became visible, half a dozen shimmering glass towers that dominated the Tokyo skyline. It was a breathtaking sight.

He thought of the place as Kira Incorporated, though its formal name was Mikami New World Limited Partners, or simply New World. Despite the immensely lucrative industrial operations and burgeoning media and technology divisions, the real purpose of the company was to help Light Yagami fulfill his role as Kira, now the supreme arbiter of justice in the world. Only a few people knew that the CEO and Chairman of the Board, Mikami Teru, wasn't really the one calling the shots, deferring the most vital decisions to a young Vice President in the research department. Or that the company's pioneering technological advances in information gathering had all been for the sake of one very specific purpose.

Matsuda parked the car in the usual place, and twenty minutes later he was being ushered into Light's office by Miss Takaishi, one of Light's many assistants. She was one of the nicer ones, who remembered his name and offered him coffee. To most of the others, he was just another appointment on the schedule, a weekly visitor who got the same half-hour window of time every Wednesday. No more and no less.

"Matsuda." Light came around from behind his desk to shake Matsuda's hand briefly. He looked the same as he always did – fit, healthy, relaxed, and as boyishly handsome as ever.

"Good afternoon, Light!" Matsuda greeted him cheerfully, trying not to sound as awkward as he felt. Light always had the peculiar ability to make him feel like a gawky rookie cop again, despite the fact that Matsuda was well into his thirties.

"Your mother and Sayu send their love," he told Light, pulling up his usual chair. "So does Hikari."

Light smiled as he sat down. "I'm glad. So how is she doing?"

That was Matsuda's cue to get down to business. "Her grades for the term came back this week. They're better than last time, but her math scores have fallen. I've been thinking of changing her tutor."

"That sounds fine." Light nodded his head, looking attentive, but Matsuda could tell that Light really had little interest in what he had to say.

Matsuda remembered the first time he'd stepped into Light's office, after the fateful phone call that had ended those long months of isolation. He'd been terrified, almost numb with the fear that Light had called him out to kill him at last. And at the same time, there had been a strange elation that he would finally see his old friend again, face to face.

That night Light had done all of the talking, of course, feeding Matsuda a very carefully prepared story about what had happened to Misa. A horrible car accident, he'd said. Light had seemed so distraught, but that could have easily been faked. Matsuda had told himself that he wouldn't believe a word that came out of Light's mouth, and he'd been doing very well at keeping a skeptical state mind, right up until Light had told him about the baby.

Hikari had been less than two months old. Her mother was dead, and she needed a father. At the time, Light had still been a suspect in Misa's death, still weathering the storm of public scrutiny. There was going to be a trial that would inevitably clear Light of all suspicion, but he couldn't handle the pressure of the law and the media and taking care of a newborn all at the same time.

And while Light was vulnerable, Hikari was in danger. Kira had so many enemies. He had begged Matsuda – on his knees – to help him. He'd sounded so crushed, and so broken.

He'd wanted to protect his little girl. It couldn't possibly have been a lie.

"I'm very pleased with your efforts, Matsuda." Light told him. "I'm going to increase your monthly budget by another 200,000 yen. Since Hikari will be starting regular instruction at the Gifted Students' Academy soon, I expect you'll have some new expenses."

"Thank you." Matsuda nodded. They could get by perfectly well on half of what Light set aside for them, but that wasn't Matsuda's decision to make. Hikari was Light's daughter, an exceptionally bright girl who competed academically with children twice her age. And she got the best of everything. No arguments.

"Hikari's really looking forward to your outing together next weekend," Matsuda reminded him. He hesitated, not sure how hard to bring up the conversation at the breakfast table. "She wants to talk to you."

Light folded his hands on the desk. "Don't worry, Matsuda." He sounded so warm and reassuring. "I won't miss our visit this time. I'm not going to disappoint her."

But that was the least of Matsuda's worries. "L-light – " he stammered, but forced himself to keep talking. "About Hikari – well, this has been bothering me for a while."

That got his attention. Light sat up a little straighter in his chair. "Please speak your mind."

"I understand that you're busy and your work is important, and I'm very happy taking care of Hikari. She's a wonderful child, but… Light, I want to know what your intentions are for the future. For her."

"Intentions?"

Matsuda shrank back, wishing Light wouldn't stare at him like that. He looked down at his hands, trying not to fidget. "She asked me about Misa today, about what happened. I know she's been thinking about it since Obon, when we let her help with the grave cleaning. I don't want to lie to her, but she's a smart girl. Very smart, and she's going to get smarter. I don’t know if you've thought through what's going to happen when she grows up and starts looking for the answers herself."

"You're really worried about this, aren't you?" Light voice was very calm and even, and it was impossible to tell what he was really thinking. That probably meant he was worried.

Matsuda took a deep breath. "I trust you Light, but I know there are things you haven't told me about that day. I don't want Hikari to get hurt." And I don't want you to get hurt either, he thought silently.

Light shook his head. "Misa's accident was really an accident. I know why you have your doubts, Matsuda, and I can't blame you for them. But I had nothing to do with her death." His gaze was steady and unwavering. "And I would never, ever do anything to hurt my own daughter."

"I would never think that!" Matsuda exclaimed.

Light smiled at him fondly. "You're a good man. I knew I was right in trusting you with Hikari." His face relaxed, and the tension in the air seemed to evaporate in an instant. "As far as my daughter is concerned, my intentions are simple. I want her to have every opportunity and every advantage that she deserves. I want to help her achieve success and happiness, to fulfill all the potential I know she has. One day, I even think she might succeed me."

"Succeed you." Matsuda repeated the words, and the implication slowly sunk in. "You would give her the notebook?"

Light shrugged. "Someday, when she's ready, why not? I can't think of anyone else more fitting. Obviously, she'll need to go a long way to prepare for that kind of responsibility. Can I count on you to help her, Matsuda?"

Matsuda's heart leaped. He meant it. He really meant it. "Of course, Light! I'd do anything for – for Hikari."

It was obvious that Light could see right through him, but he didn't call Matsuda out on the slip. His smile just widened a little. "I know you would."

Then his eyes glanced over to the clock on the wall. It was five minutes to the hour.

At this point in the meeting, Light would usually ask him if there was anything he needed or wanted, and Matsuda would always say no. Then Light would thank him for his time, and tell him that he'd see him next week.

But this time, when Light got up, he lingered for a few moments behind his desk, regarding Matsuda thoughtfully. "I think we need to continue this conversation. I want you to drop by the apartment next week after Hikari and I get back from the museum. I'll ask Sayu to watch her for a few hours, so you and I can have some time together."

"Time? Together?" Matsuda could feel his face turning red.

"Yes. I've put this off for too long." He put a hand on Matsuda's shoulder. "It seems like you've had a lot on your mind, and I think there are some things that still need to be addressed. Of course, if you don't think it's necessary – "

"No." Matsuda stood up quickly, nearly stumbling in his haste. "I'll be there, Light."

"Good."

---

It was perfectly understandable why Light wanted to minimize his ties to Hikari. Her identity put her in danger. There was a circle of people who knew Light was really Kira, many of them with near-fanatical devotion to his cause. But there were others among them who had been told out of necessity, not all of them trustworthy. A few would have jumped at the chance to have something to hold over Light's head, like the existence of a secret daughter.

According to the cover story Light had put together, Hikari was really Matsuda's child, the result of a one-night stand with Misa before she'd officially married Light. Matsuda had never been entirely comfortable with it. The idea that Misa would ever cheat on Light would have been funny if he weren't expected to take it seriously. But this way, Matsuda became Hikari's father as far as the rest of the world was concerned, and Light stayed involved by playing her benefactor, a sympathetic widower who wanted to ensure the future of his deceased wife's illegitimate child. It was a story that was just tawdry enough to be embarrassing for everyone involved, but still made Light look like the good guy.

Matsuda had gone along with it, even going so far as to enter Hikari's name in his family's registry. He was working part time as a security consultant, which left plenty of time to come to grips with sudden fatherhood. At first, he'd told himself that he was doing it for the baby's sake, or for the sake of Misa's memory. He hadn't thought about it much. Back then he'd been too busy trying to learn everything he could about babies – about diapers, and formula, and temperatures, and the doctor's phone number, and how to live on three hours of sleep at a time.

But really, it had boiled down to one simple thing: Light had asked him to do this.

There was no hint of coercion or manipulation, no sign that Light had ever planned any kind of retribution against Matsuda for the part he'd played on the investigation team. Rather, Matsuda was the one Light had trusted enough to come to when it mattered, and to date it was the only time Light had ever really asked for his help. And it had nothing to do with Kira, and nothing to do with killing or passing judgment or destroying anyone's life.

He was thankful for that.

---

Light Yagami's penthouse took up the entire top floor of the newest skyscraper in the Tokyo, built by Kira Corp, of course. It was hard for Matsuda to think of it as an apartment. There was so much space, enhanced by artful architecture and clever interior decorating, it felt like a whole house. Easily the most spectacular feature was the private balcony that looked out over the city. When the doorman let Matsuda in, that was where he spotted Light, perched like a watchful hawk on the edge of the railing.

He never would have admitted it out loud, but seeing Light out there, half-a-step from plummeting to his death, made Matsuda's heart start pounding like mad in his chest. It was the look on the young man's face, the utterly careless confidence in the way he held himself, like the laws of gravity didn't apply to him. And why should they? None of the other laws did.

"Matsuda!"

He snapped out of his reverie to find Light stepping back into the apartment, shutting the glass door to the balcony behind him. "It's good to see you."

Matsuda automatically stiffened and bowed. "Thank you for having me. Er, I appreciate your taking the time out of your schedule for this."

"Of course." Light gestured toward a leather couch by the fireplace. "Please have a seat while I get us something to drink. I've dismissed my staff for the rest of the day, so we'll have some privacy."

"You really didn't have to so much trouble," Matsuda tried to protest, but Light had already disappeared out of sight. He took a deep breath, to try and get his nerves to settle down. This wasn't a social call.
"Where's Hikari?" he called in the direction of the kitchen.

Light came back into the room with a pair of ochoko cups and a bottle of sake on a tray. "She and Sayu already left to go shopping. My sister promised to get her home in time for dinner, so we should have plenty of time here." He set down the tray on a side table, and uncorked the sake bottle.

Matsuda wasn't sure he wanted to start drinking so early in the day, and to be honest, he was a little out of practice. But then he saw the label on the bottle, and held his tongue. It was Koshi no Kanbai from a terribly distinguished Niigata brewery. Turning down sake that expensive would be unforgivably rude of him.

But even for someone of Light's considerable wealth, this was a little too much. Matsuda felt like he was being set up for something, and he had no idea what it was. One thing though, he was fairly certain of. "We're not here to talk about Hikari, are we?"

Light didn't look up from the sake. "We can talk about anything you want. You asked me about my daughter's future, and I told you what I wanted. Now I want to hear about what you want, Matsuda. You've never seemed comfortable opening up during out appointments together, so I thought a less formal environment might encourage you." He straightened, and picked up the drinks. "There we are."

Matsuda stood up as Light passed him one of the cups. "Thank you for your concern, but I don't need anything from you, Light. Really, I don't."

"Really." Light's took a seat on an armchair facing Matsuda. "So you're perfectly content to devote yourself to my daughter, to put your own life aside just because I told you to?" His voice was teasing, but his eyes were dead serious.

Matsuda looked away. "I wish you wouldn't put it like that."

"I don't understand you, Matsuda. You've done so much for me, and never asked for any kind of repayment." Light shook his head in seeming disbelief. "After all the time that you've known me, don't you understand you can have anything you want?"

The concern seemed to be genuine, but it was impossible for Matsuda to explain himself. He avoided Light's gaze, wishing he were braver. "Your friendship is enough," was all he managed to say.

"Well, suit yourself." Light relented, sitting back. He sat back and raised his cup. "Kanpai."

"Kanpai," Matsuda echoed. He leaned over to clink his sake against Light's and then took a sip. The chilled alcohol was cold on his tongue, smooth and mild.

Light was still watching him thoughtfully. "Single fatherhood seems to suit you, but it must be lonely. I always wondered why you didn't marry Sayu. You knew she was waiting for you to propose, didn't you?"

Matsuda instantly went red. "S-sayu's a wonderful girl," he sputtered. "And – and she's so sweet and kind and funny and nice, and – "

"It's all right." Light was laughing, a bright, startling sound. "I'm only teasing you. Sayu moved on a long time ago. And you didn't want to marry her, did you?"

"No, I didn't." Matsuda shook his head, feeling sheepish. The idea of marriage had crossed his mind when he was younger, but he'd never thought about Sayu seriously. It felt like a thousand years ago now, when the world had been so much simpler, before he'd realized his feelings lay in another direction entirely.

Light nodded. "You weren't really interested in any girls." It wasn't a question.

"I just… never met the right one, I guess." Matsuda looked down at the cup in his hands. "I just - "

"You thought I never noticed the way you looked at me?" Light's tone softened. "I understand why you never said anything directly, but it meant a lot to me that you felt that way. I wish I could have been in a position to tell you sooner. I hope it isn't too late now."

Matsuda's head snapped back up, gaping at Light. It was plan on his face that he wasn't teasing and he wasn't joking. If anything, Light's expression seemed uncharacteristically unsure, almost nervous.

His mind reeled. But that was impossible. Matsuda wanted to say something, but Light put a finger to his lips, shushing him. All thoughts of Sayu and Hikari flew out of Matsuda's head as Light leaned in, his hand withdrawing right before warm lips descended on Matsuda's mouth, which was still hanging slightly open from shock.

The kiss was brief, as Light withdrew after only a few seconds, but Matsuda couldn't look away. It was clear what Light wanted, and Matsuda felt terribly self conscious again. Maybe Light had been dropping signals this whole time, and he had simply been too dense to notice. But how could he have guessed?

Matsuda swallowed thickly, trying to regain the ability to speak. "I don't know what to say." He realized his was still clutching his sake cup, and quickly put it down.

Light, of course, remained as cool and collected as ever. "This isn't some sort of proposition, Matsuda. I'm trying to be honest with you. I did ask you to come over so we could talk about Hikari, but I wanted to let you know about my feelings too. Things at the company have been going well. Very well, in fact. I'll have much more personal time soon, and I can take care of a few things I've been putting off for too long. I'd like to be more involved with my daughter's life. And yours, if you like."

"My god, Light." Matsuda started laughing in a rush of giddy euphoria. The situation was so strange, he couldn't help it. Suddenly, all of Light's precautions made sense – wanting to meet in private, dismissing his staff – if Light's relationship with Hikari was a security issue, then something like this was downright dangerous for both of them.

"If I've assumed wrong, I apologize." There was more than a little worry on Light's face. He probably hadn't expected this reaction. "You do prefer men, don't you?"

"Yeah." Matsuda nodded. As his breathing returned to normal, he could feel his cheeks turning a furious crimson. He'd had fantasies about a moment like this, but nothing that came close to the reality of it. He looked up at Light. "I do like men. But you don't… do you?"

He thought of all those women Light had been with: Shiori Akino, Kiyomi Takada, the supermodel Riko Asakura, and so many other anonymous devotees of Kira, if the rumors were true.

And Misa, who he'd had a child with.

Light didn't answer immediately, and when he did, it was with noticeable hesitation. "I don't have a preference, Matsuda. Whether someone is male or female doesn't make a difference to me. Of course, my parents didn't think that way, and I did like girls… for a long time, it really wasn't an issue. But that's all changed now." The way Light was holding himself in a defensive posture made him look oddly vulnerable. If this was a performance, it was a convincing one.

Matsuda wanted to believe it, but he knew Light. Light would do anything to get what he wanted, whether it was to lie or steal or worse. He could feel the unease growing in the back of his mind, all the old suspicions gnawing at his thoughts again.

But Light couldn't even seem to look him in the eye, fingers white-knuckled around his sake cup. Matsuda's could feel his fear dissipating, and he immediately felt guilty for having doubts. If Light's feelings were genuine, approaching Matsuda couldn't have been easy for him. He deserved a chance as much as anyone.

And if Matsuda didn't take Light at his word, who would?

"I don't know how I feel about this," Matsuda said slowly. "But I'm glad you told me. Can I have some time to think – "

But Light was up out of his seat, and sliding next to Matsuda on the couch. The next kiss was neither hesitant nor brief, and the heated press of those fine, firm lips erased any thought of protest from Matsuda's mind. He found his hands reaching up pull Light closer, as he finally accepted the possibility that this might be the real thing after all.

Light always got what he wanted, and it was terribly foolish to fight the inevitable.

---

Matsuda wondered if gods ever got lonely, if they got bored with being worshipped and put on pedestals, and just wanted to be like everyone else for a little while. Light seemed invincible, but he was human. Matsuda didn't even have to think very hard to come up with a theory about why Light had come to him, and not Mikami or one of the others. Matsuda knew that Light was Kira, but still thought of him as Light. No one else could say that.

Not since L.

He'd wondered about the two of them, being forced to spend so much time in such close proximity because of the Kira investigation. They were both brilliant, ambitious, competitive people, and very evenly matched. It had been fascinating to watch them work together, and often frustrating to try and keep up with their strategies. Matsuda knew there had been a lot going on between L and Light that he didn't understand, but everything he'd seen had been completely innocent and friendly. And if there had been anything else, of course it wasn't Matsuda's business.

But thinking about the two of them, alone… together… well, it was the first time Matsuda had really thought about men that way. Light had been barely more than a teenager back then, and it had felt so wrong to have those kinds of feelings for him.

But Light grew up, and Matsuda's feelings didn't go away.

Not even after he found out Light was Kira.

---

From the outset, it was apparent that a relationship with Light wouldn't be easy. Hikari was absolutely delighted to be able to see Light more often, even though their visits were often cut short for one reason or another. Matsuda's moments with him were even briefer, an hour here, a few minutes there, whenever Light had the time to spare.

But when those moments came, they were worth the wait.

"I want to see you next week. Friday night." It was the end of another of their Wednesday meetings, and Matsuda was caught off guard by the sudden request. Light didn't usually set their dates so directly like this, and rarely so far in advance.

"Next Friday?" he repeated.

Light was flipping through his planner, a pen in hand. "I know our girl has her big trip to Kyoto with my mother, so you'll have some time on your hands. I hope you haven't made plans already."

In fact Matsuda had made plans. One of his cousins, Kazuya, was getting married to his college sweethear, and Matsuda was supposed to be filling out the ranks of well-wishers, and catching up with his extended family over the weekend. He'd been looking forward to it, but now he was already mentally composing his apologies for not being able to attend. Some emergency at work. A horrible cold. He wasn't usually in the habit of making excuses, so surely no one would suspect.

And then a dreadful thought occurred to him. He was thinking like Light. This was how he always did things, casually telling whatever lies were necessary to get out of inconvenient situations.

"I'm sorry, Light." Matsuda shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't make Friday. I'm going to be out of town then."

"Oh." Light looked up and shrugged. "Well, that's a shame."

And he was going to leave it at that. Matsuda felt a twinge of dismay, because he did want very badly to spend more time with Light, and of course it was perfectly all right to make a few personal compromises – he knew Light had made plenty of them on his behalf. "Sunday, though," he said quickly. "Sunday would be all right. I'll excuse myself and take an earlier train home. Would that be okay with you?"

Light smiled. "I'll see what I can do. I – " The phone rang, and Mikami took that as his signal to leave. Interruptions like this happened regularly, and this late in the hour, the meeting was more or less over already. But as he was getting up from his seat, Light reached across the desk and put a hand on Matsuda's wrist. "Just give me a minute, will you?" He pressed the intercom button on his phone. "Yes, Miss Takaishi, what is it?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt sir, but it's Mr. Endo for you." Light grimaced. "Go ahead and put him through." He gave Matsuda an apologetic look as he picked up the receiver, and held up his hand, fingers spread. Five minutes.

Matsuda sat back down, watching Light slide into the persona of an ordinary businessman conducting ordinary business. This was his public face, the carefully cultivated image of respectability that was vital to his ability to operate as Kira.

"Of course we're ready for the convention. The presentation will have them lining up to provide investment capital. It'll be a killing. Our competitors won't stand a chance." Light was speaking at a slightly louder volume than usual, and his voice sounded harsher and rougher. Matsuda heard a raucous burst of laughter over the phone and guessed that Light was trying to sound more aggressive for the benefit of the man on the other end of the line.

It was an old trick Matsuda had learned for interrogations, back in his police officer days – in order to gain someone's sympathy or trust, a good way to appeal to them was to subtly mirror their behavior and personality quirks. It could backfire if it was too noticeable, but even the subtlest adjustments in voice and posture could unconsciously influence other people.

Everyone did this to some extent, but Light was terribly good at it. Matsuda noticed how he was sitting up straighter in his seat, his smile more arrogant. When he laughed, there was the hard edge of unpleasant malice in it. The act was so perfect, Matsuda could feel himself wanting to put some distance between them.

"All right, you old goat. Tell that lazy bum you call an assistant to send the numbers by tomorrow, and we can get the contract finalized." Light hung up, much to Matsuda's relief. "I'm sorry about that," he said, and his voice was warm and even again. Back to normal.

And yet, the uneasiness didn't go away. Matsuda spent the rest of their meeting watching Light intently, trying to catch a slip in the façade that would prove he was still performing, that he was just wearing another mask.

It was so hard being with Light sometimes, knowing what Matsuda knew. Maybe this relationship was just another piece of a bigger, more brilliant plan, that wouldn't reveal itself until just the right moment. Maybe this was a tactic to ensure Matsuda's loyalty, where simple reassurances just weren't enough. Or maybe Light wanted something to hold over his head, in case Matsuda ever changed his mind about the arrangement or got greedy or unmanageable.

It was a familiar tactic and nothing to get too upset about. If it was all a lie, at least it meant that Light cared enough to go through with the deception. It was almost flattering, in a way.

But after the meeting, Matsuda couldn't help but wonder wondering when he'd started wearing a mask for Light Yagami.

---

Light was not a benevolent man. In the end, Matsuda had reconciled himself to that truth. It wasn't justice or order that Kira had brought to the world, but a pervasive, insidious fear, that had only grown stronger since his final victory over Near and the SPK. While crime rates had been severely reduced all over the world, the remaining criminals had grown more prone to extremes. Once they believed that Kira's judgment was coming, they stopped holding back, and gave in to their fury and despair. There were so many cases where crimes of passion or accidental killings escalated into unspeakable multiple murders. Suicides were increasingly common. The reason was always the same – Kira's judgment left them no hope of mercy or escape.

So if they were damned already, what did they have to lose by committing even worse atrocities?

For years Matsuda had clung, perhaps foolishly, to the hope that Light would change in time. He would see that his methods weren't perfect, and that depending so heavily on the power of the notebook had its own terrible costs. Surely once he realized how many people he was hurting, it couldn't go on.

But it did go on, even after the crime rate leveled off, and the number of executions became constant, usually about five or six hundred a year, with increases largely due to population gains. Matsuda knew the figures because Light had explained them to him one afternoon, with all the concern of a commodities trader discussing the futures market. According to Light the "collateral damage" was acceptable.

And that's when Matsuda had finally understood that Light knew exactly what he doing, and who he was hurting – he just didn't care.

---

"Don't worry about a thing, Matsuda, dear." Sachiko Yagami patted his arm as she walked him to the door. "Hikari will be just fine here."

"I'm so sorry about this. Really, I feel like I could - I'm taking terrible advantage of you." Matsuda stumbled over the words, not sure if he was saying the right thing or not. How did other people act in these situations?

"Nonsense!" Mrs Yagami rebuked him sternly. "I love having more time with her. You go take care of whatever business you need to, and take as long as you like. You don't need explain a thing. I don't want to hear it."

She shut the door firmly behind him.

Somehow Mrs. Yagami had been as polite and understanding as ever, despite Matsuda showing up at her door with Hikari asleep in his arms at half past ten o'clock at night, babbling about an emergency. Matsuda often thought that Hikari would have been better off from the beginning with her grandmother. If the sweet woman weren't so deferential to Light's decisions, she would have been the natural choice to be a surrogate parent.

As he walked back toward his car, his cel phone rang, right on schedule. Matsuda thought about not answering it for a good thirty seconds, but not very seriously. "Hello Light."

"Is Hikari all right?"

Matsuda lowered his voice as he got in the car. "I've left her with your mother. And if anyone asks, an old college friend of mine had a heart attack tonight, and I've been in the hospital waiting for news with his family. He'll come through just fine, thankfully."

There was light laughter over the phone from Light. "That's quite a story you came up with. I'd have gone with something less dramatic."

"Sorry," Matsuda muttered. "I'm new at this." He fumbled in his coat pocket for his car keys, and switched on the ignition. "Where are we meeting?"

"The Grand Meridia Bay Hotel. Room 712."

It occurred to Matsuda, after he was several blocks away, that he could have easily told Mrs. Yagami the truth, and she wouldn't have reacted any differently at all.

---

Matsuda didn't know where he was when he woke up. The futon mattress was too firm, the sheets were too stiff, and the morning light was hitting him directly in the eyes. He rolled over, blinking, and found himself face to face with Light. The younger man was still asleep, his chest rising and falling with each intake of breath. Around them, the sheets were still in disarray from last night.

He automatically pulled the covers up over Light, tucking them in securely. The possessiveness Matsuda felt didn't bother him anymore. It was nothing to be ashamed of, wanting to protect someone you cared about. And Matsuda did care, very, very much.

Watching Light sleep, he thought about what happy domesticity together might be like. Trips to the park with Hikari, long lunches, and longer nights. Maybe Light could write names in the Death Note in the evenings while Matsuda sorted out their bills.

The Death Note. The thought of it ended that fantasy quickly. Matsuda knew Light's paranoia had grown to the point where he never went anywhere without the notebook now. He got up carefully, so as not to disturb Light, and made his way to the closet to fetch a robe. Light's overnight bag was sitting on the edge of the sink. It was the kind that had a lot of little extra pockets and compartments that most people never used.

Of course, Light wasn't most people

Matsuda took a deep breath and opened the bag, deciding that he was just looking for an extra towel, despite the half-dozen neatly folded ones on the rack beside him. His fingers felt out a solid, rectangular shape through the fabric on the left side, and a little more digging brought him to the zippered inside pocket.

He knew one of the rules stated that you couldn't kill anyone less than 780 days old using the notebook. When Matsuda had first taken in Hikari, he'd wondered about Light's real intentions, but rejected the possibility almost immediately. Light couldn't possibly be that cruel. He'd never directly caused the death of any member of his family, even if his actions might have contributed to Chief Yagami's. Light was a deeply troubled person with serious faults, but he wasn't a monster. Matsuda wouldn't believe that.

The deaths at the warehouse had been an act of self-preservation. He hadn't killed Matsuda because Matsuda wasn't a threat, like the others were. He cared about Light, and Light wouldn't –

Wouldn't he?

His eyes on the sleeping man only a few feet away, Matsuda pulled out the Death Note, and opened the cover. Slowly, he flipped through the pages, following the dates back until he found the right year, and month, and day. And there it was, in Light's perfect handwriting: MISA AMANE – CAR ACCIDENT 6:13PM. Matsuda closed the notebook, and put it back where he'd found it, taking care to put the bag exactly as Light had left it. He felt a pang of selfish regret, now that he knew for certain what he'd only suspected. There was no way to cling to convenient ignorance anymore.

He understood why Misa had loved Light, in spite of everything he had done. The world was better for Light being Kira, and Matsuda was a better man for knowing him. There were few people so adored and so feared, and it was hard to imagine that anything could stop him. But Light had his vulnerabilities. After so many years of secrets, real trust was probably impossible for him now. Matsuda doubted that Light would ever be a real father to Hikari, or in any kind of healthy emotional relationship again.

That's why Misa had tried to run, with her newborn daughter. That's why she had made the choice to leave Light. She'd realized he would always choose the Death Note over her, over their child, and over any kind of love they would ever have between them. In the end, she couldn't accept it, not when her own life wasn't the only thing at stake anymore.

But Matsuda could. Matsuda's loyalty was close to absolute, and Light had known, long before Matsuda had figured it out for himself. That's why he was still alive.

Matsuda went back to the futon, and slipped back under the covers. He shifted over a little so that the glare of morning sun was out of his eyes, and curled up on his side, facing Light. The God of the New World looked so much younger in guileless sleep, maybe still young enough to change.

It was a foolish hope, but Matsuda had never been very bright or very good at giving up.

And he still believed, deep in his heart. He believed.

---

The End