L02-1 Kidnapped

With the antidote complete, the cruiser docked at the edge of the pier so Suruga could go buy some groceries in town. Aboard the cruiser, L and Takahashi feasted on skewers of kushikatsu, another Osaka specialty Hitomi had made, and although it was not yet evening, a modest celebration had begun.

"Tomorrow I'll run some tests and inoculate Maki. After that, we inform the police about the terrorists' plan, clear Nikaido's name, and it's done."

"Indeed. As for how to pass the antidote on to Dr. K, who's been infected as well.. .Well, I suppose there would be any number of ways once she is in police custody.'' L took a bite from the skewer of fried pork and dunked it back in the sauce.

"Hey! Ryuzaki, no double-dipping!" Takahashi scolded.

"Really?"

"The sauce is for everybody, so you can't dip something you already put your mouth on. Double-dipping is strictly prohibited."

"No need to worry." L reached for a container of sauce with the words Ryuzaki's Personal Sauce on the side.

"You're prepared." Takahashi looked at Us sauce. "Say, do you mind if I try some of that sauce?"

Without a word, L held out the container for Takahashi. The professor allowed the sauce to seep in and took a bite of the meat. His eyes spun as a taste he'd never experienced before spread inside his mouth. Unable to spit it out, he gulped the terrible concoction down.

"S-sweet. Ryuzaki, this isn't...?"

"Chocolate sauce. No double-dipping allowed."

"Nobody would double-dip in that thing, idiot." As Takahashi wiped his mouth repeatedly with tissues, Hitomi came in with more prepared dishes. "Isn't Maki eating?"

"She said she wasn't feeling very well. I'll go check on her. By the way, did you talk to Mr. Ryuzaki?"

"Yes, that's right." After finally washing down the sweetness of the chocolate with beer, Takahashi leaned forward in his chair. "Listen, Ryuzaki, Hitomi and I were talking about how Maki is all alone now, having lost both her parents, and we were thinking about adopting her as our daughter. What do you think?"

L smiled. "Thank you. Now I can—"

"You can what?"

"Nothing." Despite having only two days left to live, L lifted his glass. "Professor Takahashi, let us make a toast."

"Right. To the completion of the antidote and to Maki's happiness."

Just as they were about to clink their glasses, Hitomi returned.

"Maki is gone!"

L and Takahashi rushed into Maki's cabin to find a chocolate bar and letter on the table. The letter was addressed to L.

—Dear Ryuzaki,

Thanks for everything. I thought about it, and I decided to do what I have to do after all.

"What is it that she has to do?" Takahashi asked after stealing a peek at the letter.

L thought for a moment then turned on the computer inside the cabin. He pulled up the most recent search history on the Internet, and a weather map of Osaka popped up.

"A weather map? So she was looking at this before she ran away. Was she worried about rain?"

"No, she was checking the wind direction." L bit his nails more violently than usual.

"Wind direction," Takahasi repeated. "That could be dangerous."

Ships crisscrossed the calm waters of Osaka Bay.

Maki took off the Tigers cap and looked at the promontory where she and her parents used to visit with the Amane family when they lived in Osaka. She stood at the edge of the cliff and turned her back on the water. The wind blew directly at her face and outward toward the bay.

"This should be safe, right, Daddy?"

Several moments later, a lone figure arrived and approached Maki on top of the cliff. "Thank you for calling me, Maki."

"Dr. Kujo, did you come alone?"

"Yes, I didn t tell anyone."

With a quiet determination, Maki confronted Kujo. "The antidote should be done by tomorrow."

"Really?"

"Professor Takahashi is going to tell the police everything. About how you were planning a terrorist attack, about how you killed my father. But—" Maki took a step forward. "Maybe you were planning to die from the start, Dr. Kujo."

Kujo nodded quietly, stone-faced.

"What I have to do now is get you to live so you can redeem yourself, so you can atone for your sins." It was what Maki had been contemplating ever since she had lost her father.

"Maki..." Kujo's eyes grew wider.

"My father always told me to never lose sight of what you have to do no matter what. And what I want is for you to take over my father's mission. So please, let's start over. If you can't—" Maki gripped the knife in her right hand. "I'll kill you, and then I'll kill myself"

Kujo looked around her and sighed. "That's why you asked to meet here. The virus won't spread, and we'll be the only ones to die."

Maki nodded. Her father had taught her the risks of working with deadly viruses, and that as his daughter she might one day have to sacrifice herself for others.

"Maki, you still believe in me? And forgive me after everything that's happened?"

Maki recalled the image of how her father had died. The woman her father trusted with his life, but who drove him to his death, now stood before her. For an instant, a burning hatred nearly erupted from her soul, but Maki extinguished it. "Maybe I can't forgive you yet. But I do believe in you."

Kujo looked away to gaze at the sea. Endless houses and streets spread out on the other side of the bay. It was a warm and peaceful scene. Maki stood next to Kujo, like she used to, and stared across the bay.

"Dr. Kujo, that place over there is filled with happiness. Of course, there are some bad people there, but still everyone is trying to live life to the fullest. Can you really destroy all that?"

Finally Kujo said, "All right, Maki. I'll bring everything out in the open. About killing your father. About what we have been trying to do."

"Dr. Kujo...thank you."

The two took a step closer and held each other's hand. Their hands became connected by a tiny hope that transcended despair, hate, and anguish.

"Maki, if we stay here—•"

Kujo was interrupted by a car and a motorcycle speeding down the sandy path. They came to a halt blocking Kujo and Maki's escape. Matoba emerged from the back seat of the car, his face panic-stricken. "Dr. Kujo, it isn't safe to act alone,'' he said, "What would you have done if you had allowed the girl to escape? She is a valuable pawn. With her, we can counter L's Death Note."

"Mr. Matoba, I—" Kujo shielded Maki behind her back. When Kujo looked down at Maki's face, however, she knitted her brows and smiled as if she had cast off her emotions and put on another mask entirely Then she thrust Maki out in front of Matoba. Kujo also held what resembled an ampule in her hand. "Mr. Matoba, we don't have just the girl. She brought the antidote with her. This should be more than enough to inoculate the whole of Blue Ship."

"Dr. Kujo—" Maki's cry was stifled by Matoba, who covered her mouth with a hand.

"Looks like Konishi's reverse eavesdropping plan paid off," Yoshizawa said.

"Call me Ohnishi," Konishi said.

As Maki was forced into the car, a shadowy figure came into her field of vision.

"Ryuzaki!"

The members all turned at once. L was pedaling furiously on a bicycle toward the cliff.

"Well now. The hero always arrives late to the dance. Only this time he's a little too late. We'll be taking the girl and the antidote now." With a nod toward Hatsune, Matoba climbed into the car. It peeled out in a cloud of dust and sand.

Hatsune drew the stiletto knife and licked the edge of the blade. L skidded to a halt on the bicycle, panting and carrying nothing but an umbrella.

"You think that's any good against me?" Like a wasp, the blade took a quick and graceful path toward its target and twined around L's sleeve. Blood spurted from L's right arm. His face twisted in pain. Ripping off the sleeve, L raised the umbrella as if it were an epee.

"Now I can move my arm better."

"Sore loser!" Hatsune lunged with the knife. L kept her at bay using the long reach of the umbrella. Give! It! Up! The blade sliced through the air three times. Hatsune angrily kicked the sand at her feet. L quickly stooped over and opened the one-touch umbrella in Hatsune's face.

"Not good enough!" The knife slashed through the nylon fabric of the umbrella. Then she was taken aback by what she saw through the tear. L's face was planted in the sand, like a frog that had lost its balance. He vaulted head over heels in a handspring and slammed both feet against Hatsune's shoulders. The stiletto sailed out of Hatsune's hand.

"Nice try, but there's no catching the car now. '' Hatsune rushed to her motorcycle, threw a leg over it, and waved goodbye. She kicked up a cloud of sand behind her as she sped off down the road.

L ran after the car that carried Maki. Straightening his curved back. Pushing his body beyond what it could handle. He knew from the start that there would be no catching up to them. That his own body was no match for a car. And still L ran. Like a man who had battled everything that was ludicrous in this world. Just like those who confronted a great evil in the name of justice. The car receded into the distance. L fell forward on his hands and knees gasping for breath.

"Light—this feeling of failing to protect those to whom you promised safety. Is this the reality you spoke of?"

The car s taillights gradually faded from view. The blood from the wound trickled down L's arm to the broken watch he wore in remembrance of Light and dripped onto the asphalt. Suddenly, he pounded his fist against the hard ground. Over and over. He did not stop even when his knuckles were pink with blood.

"Light...it hurts. My heart—"

It was a hurt that L. Lawleit had suppressed, that he had to suppress in order to continue his existence as the peerless Detective L. How had the world's top detective been described with regard to facets of his personality other than his ability as a detective? He had been called a kinky detective who relished bizarre murders, a human computer capable only of measuring mass murders in terms of cold numbers, a reclusive sociopath. What L thought of such estimations of his personality only L could know. But no one could truly understand L. How L did not and could not forget the faces of thousands of victims. Who could comprehend the man who had lived his life, and had to live confronting all of the lives ended prematurely, the tears of the grief-stricken survivors, the devaluing of life as a daily reality. How was it possible to measure the pain of such a man?

Was it a strain so heavy that L's back curved under all its weight? Was it an agony so terrible to leave the indelible dark circles around his eyes? Was it a feeling so bitter that every bite he took needed to be coated in sugar? The chronically rounded shoulders, the inevitable dark circles, the eccentric tastes—L suppressed the pain of being a champion of justice, but the evidence of the pain was molded into his very body.

L tore out his hair and howled at the sky, unleashing the agony inside his soul.