"Agent Misora."

The elderly man's voice was distorted and hollow, like it was coming from the other end of a long, metallic tunnel.

Where am I?

"Watari, how is she?"

That's L's voice.

Naomi's head had the sensation of having been pumped full of helium. Everything felt like it was moving- kind of like when her brothers used to spin her on the merry-go-round at the playground but with the warped perception of a carnival fun house mirror.

Am I dreaming?

"She's pretty beat up, Ryuzaki. She's been hit in the head multiple times. Agent Maki, can you hear me?" Watari switched to using her alias.

The voices were starting to sound clearer, like they were coming towards her in the tunnel. Her eyelids began to flutter and her memory began to return.

He was there. He got away...

"She's coming around."

"Is her earpiece still in?"

"Yes."

"Misora, it's L. Can you hear me?"

I can hear you.

Naomi wanted to answer but all that came out was a small groan... No, it was more like a squeak. She felt dizzy and nauseous and the entire left side of her face throbbed. She slowly forced her eyes to open. The night sky above her blurred and spiraled like a Van Gogh painting and the walls of the buildings on either side of her were bedazzled with red and blue police lights.

Watari spoke softly, "How are you?"

"W- Watari, he-" Naomi started to sit up but the old man placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't try to sit up just yet."

It was just as well. Another wave of nausea and a searing pain in her head made Naomi more than happy to lie back down.

L's voice came through the earpiece again. "I've sent a paramedic to the scene. They should arrive within a few minutes."

Naomi was awake now and remembering everything.

She struggled to speak. "He... he got away..." her own voice sounded strange and echoey in her ringing ears.

"We'll talk about it when you come home, Naomi. Try not to talk." There was a hint of concern in L's tone and Naomi felt grateful that she wasn't expected to give a report just yet.

She closed her eyes again and allowed herself to rest while Watari stayed at her side and spoke with the police.

Apparently, it had been a brick that the suspect had used to smack her in the jaw. It was found lying nearby, but he must have been wearing gloves, as fingerprint powder revealed nothing.

"How bad does it look?" she asked, her eyes still closed. Everything was still spinning. She felt seasick.

Watari put a hand reassuredly on her arm. "Not as bad as it feels, I'm sure."

Naomi couldn't tell if he was being honest or just kind. But she didn't press further.

At length, the paramedics arrived and, nearly three hours later, Naomi found herself sitting on the edge of an emergency room cot holding an ice pack to the side of her face. She'd been diagnosed with a concussion and a fractured jaw.

The bottom left side of her face was swollen red and purple and two thin, white steri strips barely did anything to hide the angry little gash beneath them. The rough surface of the brick had left behind some minor scratches as well. There was a large, swelled bruise on the side of her head too, which was causing her left eye to be slightly less open than the other. But the CT scan had come back clean and now, she was just waiting to be discharged.

Naomi heard footsteps approaching and Watari's voice came from the other side of the curtain.

"Agent Maki? Can we come in?"

"Yes, come in." Her answer was mumbled as a result of the ice pack.

Watari opened the curtain with a "Shhnnk" and, to Naomi's surprise, L stepped into the little enclosure.

She lowered the ice pack slowly.

He moved to stand in front of her, his hands pocketed. He tilted his head and his large, dark eyes traveled over her injuries.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Awesome," Naomi replied groggily. She smiled bravely as best she could.

One corner of L's mouth lifted into a small smile in return. "Well, you look terrible," he said frankly.

The look on Watari's face suggested he wanted to smack the boy upside the head.

Naomi took the brutal honesty playfully. She shrugged. "Can you blame me?"

"No..." L responded, not taking his eyes off her. Then, unexpectedly, he stepped forward, reaching his hand out, and placed a finger gently under her chin. Naomi stiffened as he bent down slightly and studied her injured jawline.

She was suddenly very aware that his face was extremely close to hers.

"...yeah, he hit you pretty hard," L commented, taking a step back and returning his hand to his pocket. "Does it hurt much?"

Naomi relaxed again. "It does, but they gave me pain killers that should kick in soon. I just want to sleep now."

Just as she said this, the nurse returned and, shortly thereafter, they were headed out to the car again. The sun was just starting to come up.

The quiet drive home was a sleepy blur. Naomi had never wanted her bed so badly. She told herself over and over, "Just hang on a few more minutes, and then you can sleep..."

When they reached the house, she shuffled in a daze up the sidewalk. She felt a hand take her arm and thought it was Watari until she looked up to see him unlocking the front door ahead of her. She turned to see that it was L at her side. Hunched over as always, he had one hand in his pocket and the other one on her elbow.

"Oh, you don't have to-"

Before she could finish, everything tilted. She stopped walking and shook her head lightly, blinking.

Woah. Those pain meds were kicking in.

"Are you okay?" L asked.

"I'm just so out of it..." Her words were beginning to slur.

L's hand tightened protectively. "I've got you," he said simply.

They made it into the house and up the stairs. By the time they reached her bedroom door, Naomi's head was pounding and the nauseousness had returned. She was thankful for L's support, lest she tumble down the stairs and injure herself further.

L turned to her. "Are you good from here?"

Naomi just nodded. She was hurting pretty badly now, despite the medication.

L's hand stayed on her arm for another minute.

He spoke in a low tone, considerate of her aching head. "Get some rest and sleep as long as you need to."

He slowly let go of her arm, watching her closely. Then his eyes dropped to the floor and his hand moved to scratch the back of his head before returning to his pocket. He hesitated, lifting his thin shoulders awkwardly. Then, he added in an even quieter voice, "I'm glad you're okay."

Naomi smiled weakly. She couldn't keep her eyes open any longer. She responded with a "thank you" that was barely a whisper before entering her room and shutting the door.

The early morning sunshine spilled in through the window, but Naomi shut it out with her room-darkening shades. She managed to remove her boots but didn't bother changing out of her clothes. Thoroughly exhausted and so very sore, she crawled beneath the covers and, almost instantly, sleep claimed her.

---

L descended the stairs, two at a time, his hands in his jeans pockets like always. He headed straight to the desk and hopped into the chair, swiveling to face the computer. Watari had already set some assorted sweets out for him, but they remained untouched as L stared at the monitor through shadowed eyes. He wrapped his arms around his legs, hugging his knees to his chest, and began biting his thumbnail thoughtfully.

He had some theories regarding the case and he wanted to explore them further. But he felt... distracted. And that annoyed him.

He spun around in the chair again and hopped out of it, dragging his bare feet over to the kitchen. He leaned on his shoulder in the doorway and watched as Watari prepared a pot of coffee.

"Is there something I can do for you, Ryuzaki?" Watari inquired.

L shifted his stance and pressed his toe knuckles into the floor, cracking them loudly.

"I think I just need some coffee."

Watari nodded and switched on the coffee pot.

L shoved off of his shoulder and stood with his back arched and his thumb in his mouth. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he was feeling a little guilty about not letting Naomi wait until morning to investigate the scene.

Watari noticed something was off and so he stepped forward to stand in front of L, who was still chewing on the end of his thumb.

"Is something bothering you, L?" he queried in a fatherly tone.

L's giant, grey eyes lifted to meet those of the old man. He spoke around the thumb in his mouth.

"I'm unusually unfocused," he said ponderingly. "And," he added with a loud sigh, dropping his gaze uncomfortably and returning his hand to his pocket, "I do feel badly that Misora got hurt."

Watari's mustache twitched as the corners of his eyes creased in a small smile. "I don't think she blames you," he said kindly.

L made a low, grumbling noise in his throat, and turned abruptly to shuffle back to the desk.

Hopping up to crouch again in the swivel chair, he compelled himself to focus on the case.

"Alright, so... the markings. They were there yesterday morning, and now they are gone..." he began internally. "Now, looking at the photo..."

He clicked the mouse a couple times and brought up the photograph Naomi had taken of the three little circles spread out in a triangle on the floorboards.

"...it would appear as though the marks are from a tripod. It certainly isn't unheard of for a killer to photograph his victims..."

He leaned forward with his hands resting on top of his knees and squinted closely at the screen.

"The marks appear greasy...from some kind of oily substance. The hair product? Yes, that must be it."

L's thumb moved to his mouth again and his gaze lowered to stare intently at the desktop.

"Our killer must have accidentally gotten some of the hair fragrance oil on the bottom of his tripod. It must have been on his hands when he was setting it up..."

His gaze shifted to the left- to the tray of sweets. He reached out to claim a macaroon and dropped it in his mouth.

"It follows that he would have realized the mistake when he unpacked the camera equipment... so, he returned to the scene, disguised as a policeman, hoping to discreetly clean it up while posing as an investigator. But, when L's agents arrived, he panicked and fled the scene, planning to delete the photographic evidence and return later that night... it all fits."

Watari came in and served the coffee before taking a seat at a small table against the wall. He began the tedious process of inputting the names of the victims and their acquaintances into the algorithm L had written the previous evening.

L picked up a handful of sugar cubes. He continued his train of thought while watching the cubes drop, one-by-one, from his fingers to the coffee.

"So, he's deleting photographic evidence from the police database... It would be safe, then, to assume one of two things: Either our killer is a skilled computer hacker, or..."

L's hand was held up before him, a sugar cube pinched between his finger and thumb. He paused like this for a moment.

"...or our killer already has access to the police reports. ...could it be someone on the inside?"

He released the sugar cube and watched as it rotated in the air, traveling down its vertical path. It sank into the coffee, which, in turn, splashed onto the saucer. L stared at the concentric circles rippling in the dark liquid as he trailed his thumb along his bottom lip.

"Hmm..."

He sat like this for several moments before looking up and reaching for another macaroon.

"Watari."

"Yes, Ryuzaki?"

L spoke with his mouth full. "Get me the police officer in charge of The Bishop Case on the phone."

"One moment."

Watari dialed the number on the line that was already set up with voice distortion. He stood and placed the phone onto L's waiting, upturned palm.

L held the phone up to his ear using only a finger and thumb.

It rang a few times before a man's voice answered, speaking in French. "C'est Sergent Rousseau."

"C'est L."

Rousseau sounded surprised but asked to what did he owe this honor. L gave the assumption that he was already aware that L was on the case and the sergeant responded in affirmation.

L then went on to request a report on everyone employed by the Paris Police Department, from the janitor to the chief. The sergeant was happy to comply, and the call ended. L handed the phone back to Watari.

He finally felt like he was getting somewhere. For some strange reason, though, he was more determined than usual to bring this case to closure. It somehow felt more personal now.

The guilty feeling regarding what happened to Naomi returned and L's dark eyes narrowed. He was well aware that vengeance was oftentimes at the heart of justice, though he himself had never truly been driven by that motive. Not until now, anyway. While it certainly wasn't the sole reason for his wanting to catch The Bishop, it did add a level of vindictive passion that the young detective had never quite experienced before.

"An eye for an eye," L muttered bitterly under his breath.

Then he knocked back his coffee like it was a shot of liquor.