Sorry about that. Would you mind continuing where we left off, Miss Mikuru?
That wasn't her surname, but Betsuni ignored his attempts to be initially generous. Her eyes never met his, only wandered over his toned 3 piece suit.
I wasn't aware then, about four years ago, that my life as a withdrawn Anime fanatic who craved information would lead me into a plot of not only mass data of the case, but to the identity of who is Kira.
Betsuni pauses, turning in her computer chair across from the reporter, jotting down file names onto the PC at her side. Marc follows her fast fingertips across the keys, not sure what was appearing on the screen. She informs him that at the moment, Kira is indeed on the move. And as they converse, major holes in the case were being filled.
Are you saying the case is still active?
Of course it's active, but right now, that's not the subject. We'll get to that eventually, Mister Reporter. After my first contact with L, he asked if I would accept a truce; not that we were enemies, even if we were, I would have not found him a formidable one. Either way, I was asked to assist him online about some faulty information to the public.
And did you relay and fix that information?
Most certainly. You see, the forces of good and evil are hard to decipher when you sit in an air conditioned room for years on end, and though I was suspicious of his intentions, I did give him what our agreement asked for. We had a written contract; which was faxed back and forth. We made sure it was thorough enough so that neither of us could creep through anything to keep any real valuable information.
But you have all this data, Miss Mikuru. How were you able to catch up with it...?
The corners of Betsuni's lips sprout a small smile, pressed against her teeth. She slowly pulls her hand near her head and taps her temple.
Don't let my lifestyle fool you, Mister Reporter. I not only have a photographic memory, but the teachings of L coincidentally heightened my reasoning ability phenomenally.
Speaking of L, sorry to interrupt, but when did you first meet him? In person, that is?
She restrains a laugh, cupping a small hand over her mouth. The reporter now sees that her skin only looks porcelain in the faulty computer light; it's really a sensible tan-gray, almost sickly. Her eyes are slightly sunken back, but she retains a baby face, as most Asian girls do, with a slight square-jaw structure. Her features seem to stand out as she attempts a cover up. He stops the tape recorder.
"Excuse me, Miss Mikuru? Are you alright?" she nods excessively, still restraining her laughter. He doesn't see what's funny. Still rasping, Betsuni takes a deep breath, taking the time to stare at the man infront of her in mockery.
"I apologize for that, you can carry on with the interview." Marc's questioning at first and hesitating to turn back on the recorder, but gives in with a cough.
Would you mind elaborating my previous inquiry?
With a deep breath, Betsuni nods, her eyes going from his to the floor. There's an array of candy wrappers on the floor, accompanied by a few empty plates. Someone hadn't cleaned for the New Year; which, in Japanese terms meant that she really hadn't let go of the dirtiness of the passed to usher in the year of 2010.
Back then, I was very scared of meeting anyone, not just L, in person. I often more times then not was asked for a confrontation to obtain information; but I'm not an investigator, so I never did comply. But for L, he was different. He was strategic, he knew how to get around.
She pauses, a melancholic look crossing her face, making her eyes glossy and frail. Since the beginning of the interview, she kept this look, but not as empty as she looked as she spoke of this recollection. It looks as if she were to melt down on the spot; but remains slightly composed.
I don't know why, but his intellectual level made me feel like an equal; I know that all I had was information, and was a submissive pawn, but I felt a sense of security. You wouldn't believe how odd it is; compassion. It's what objectifies humanity to weakness.
Once again, she takes a long pause to pull in a breath, and then turns to her computer once again. She gives off the sense that she is in her own little world, but still aware of the presence of the reporter. She doesn't apologize for collecting herself again.
He presented himself to me oddly; I was escorted out of my residency to a plane, which, mind you, was absolutely mortifying at the least. And proceeded to have me travel to a northern region of Japan, farther away from Kira, which left me dumbstruck. So, my meeting with L wasn't quaint; it was as I expected it to be. Absolutely awkward. He seemed daft, dim, yet he was absolutely alluring and drenched in mystery that it sparked my natural interest even more than it should have.
