Meet Noel

All in all, a lot happened with Misora Naomi.

Nothing neither Es nor L anticipated, but a lot nonetheless.

Es figured out that Beyond Birthday would have used thread to lock the door after a cursory sweep of the room. That was the only clue that Es had needed to conclude that B's final victim might be himself. Though simple, it required at least two points for the mechanism to work. In the first three cases, the number of wara ningyo had decreased sequentially. Thus, in the fourth murder, there will only be a single wara ningyo. As such, the method used to lock the door from the outside would not work.

Essentially, the case would become impossible to solve.

Es, on the other hand, did not worry about that happening — B's life was not over yet, after all.

The first day, after returning to the hotel where Watari and L anxiously waited — worrywarts, Es thought with a fond sigh — he informed the two of the events that transpired and his suspicions.

L accepted his words as truth and did not question his reasoning, though Es knew that it was only because the other detective saw from the same perspective as himself.

He did, however, ask Es how probable it was that the Rue Ryūzaki that Es had met was B.

Es had replied with ninety-nine per cent.

After all, he had recognised Es as Dr Noir and Es had not attended many functions with the alias of Simeon Noir due to the attention that it drew. Moreover, he saw the name atop Rue Ryūzaki's head. It matched that of B whom he met during the tour of Wammy's House that he had received from L before. The remaining one per cent was the uncertainty stemming from him being unsure that others were incapable of concealing their true names. L did not ask for his reasoning and Es was grateful.

As expected, Naomi managed to find the last link on her own in the end and had rushed to the apartment which B was supposed to watch over just in time to put out the fire. Though B's plans had been meticulous, the biggest mistake he made was underestimating Misora Naomi. Well, that and his lack of proper grasp of his own date of death. If B launched his plan a year and a half later then perhaps he might have succeeded.

Es did not do much besides ensuring that Naomi remained safe from B — that she was not yet fated to die did not mean that she could not be incapacitated. That, at least, was Es' excuse to remain out and about on a case for once. A change of scenery was surprisingly pleasant.

The Japanese woman had somehow gotten the black-haired detective on an obsession for that martial art which she practised — capoeira. He had learned aikido after Es' suggestion to learn martial arts to protect himself, but it simply did not click well with L. As such, he had closed his training early on. However, Es returned from following Misora like a personal bodyguard only for L to grab him and shake him while demanding that they learned it together. Es had no reason to refuse and simply agreed to watch the videos together with L.

When L was truly passionate about something, he really did not stop talking about it. That was something about L that Es learned that day. He would never have expected L to display such talkativeness when he was excited.

L was so delighted that he even did something completely uncharacteristic of him.

"It was good working together with you, Misora Naomi," Es stated with a smile and a slight bow.

The two of them had gotten fairly close by sharing their caustic remarks directed at B. Naomi was especially grateful, having the impression that Es led her to the final clue. Es himself was not sure how he had done so — he had solved it himself in advance, but all he could only agree when faced with her bright and expectant gaze. When she had reached the correct idea of there being a thread and again when she finally brought up the idea that the series of murders was a cover-up for a suicide that was disguised as a murder instead, Es only nodded and nothing else.

"You too, Suzuki Sue," Naomi said with a warm smile.

Es was confused when she held out her arms.

He tilted his head to the side in question, yet he soon found himself being hugged by Naomi.

It was familiar yet unfamiliar. It had been a while since he had experienced such human contact. His father, Vince Ebon, had never been much of a fan of hugs while his mother, Aria Ebon, had always gotten so sappy that Es avoided hugs when it came to her. The last time he had ever suffered such a tight hug was in Konoha from his adopted siblings Natsume and Naomi — Es suddenly realised that the names of his adopted sister and the Japanese woman before him had the same pronunciation.

Es tentatively wrapped his arms around Naomi as well, reciprocating the gesture with slight awkwardness.

"I hope to work together again. We make a good team," Naomi stated while pulling away.

Es had waited for her so he could escort her one last time, yet he somehow got in this situation. He did not really know why Naomi felt so touched about his presence beside her throughout the entire debacle. Not sure just how they made a good team — his instincts told him he was better off not asking about it — he nodded with a smile.

"I hope so too," Es agreed.

He found Misora Naomi rather refreshing.

That was when Es noticed him. A black-haired young man stood in front of the station entrance with an intense expression. Donning a long-sleeved white shirt and worn blue jeans, his feet had been crammed directly into beaten sneakers.

Es could only sigh.

What was he doing out here?

Naomi noticed how the blond seemed to meet gazes with this young man — she would later tell herself it was impossible. The blond's eyes were covered and there was no way to make eye contact with someone whose eyes were not visible. It was ridiculous.

Then the moment was over and the man was leaping at her with his arms outstretched in a way not too different from her stance before... Naomi realised that she was wrong. Instead of leaping at her, the young man was attempting to throw his arms around her.

"Huh?" she yelped. "No!"

Naomi swiftly bent backwards, brushing off the man's embrace, and moved smoothly onto the offensive. She then lowered her upper body backwards, spinning once in the air and raising her back legs like a scorpion, slamming both heels down onto the man's shoulders. Both blows hit hard, and the impact knocked him off balance.

With a thunderous crash, he tumbled down the subway stairs.

Es winced at the sight.

Ouch.

Certainly, he had assaulted her, but... Misora Naomi knew she had gone overboard.

Quickly righting herself, Naomi rushed down the stairs after him.

"Are you okay?" she asked in concern.

He was lying on his stomach like a crushed frog.

"I see," he muttered half to himself, half to the blond who had followed Naomi on her trip down. "Watching videos and seeing it for real is quite different, but I think I understand now."

Es scowled deeply.

Not this again.

Misora Naomi was evidently confused, possibly thinking that the young man she kicked down the stairs must have suffered a serious head injury. Without context, what he was saying made absolutely no sense. She wondered whether this meant that she was already in trouble on her first day back to work.

"Umm..." Naomi addressed L while holding out a hand. "Can you stand?"

L continued to stare up at the woman, his eyes cast in shadow.

"Thank you," he finally said accepting her hand and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.

"Are you injured?" Naomi asked worriedly. "Does it hurt anywhere?"

L was still holding her hand and she got the feeling that they were like warriors on a battlefield exchanging a firm handshake after yet another bloody fight.

Misora Naomi was surprisingly dense, or so the idle onlooker thought as he pinched the bridge of his nose. L was going to be scolded so badly by Watari when they returned. The black-haired detective must have snuck out of the hideout after Es left.

"I'm fine, thank you," L stated in a strangely flat manner.

With an expression which somewhat resembled a smile, he added, "You are very kind."

Then he finally let go of her hand and began to totter off.

"Wait!" she caught herself and remembered to call after him.

Acting as though he did not hear her, L continued up the stairs and stopped in front of Es.

"Just a second!" Naomi shouted as she started to run after him.

L suddenly hugged Es, leaving Misora Naomi speechless as she stopped in her tracks in her surprise.

He then tugged off the white sash acting as a blindfold to conceal Es' bright blue eyes.

"Hey!" Naomi exclaimed in alarm for her friend — because whether or not Sue Suzuki agreed, she deemed him a friend.

"I've wanted to do it since I first saw this thing covering your eyes," L said by way of explaining.

Es was not affronted as he should have been.

Instead, he chuckled while hugging back.

He ruffled a hand through soft hair that smelled like citrus, mint and ash.

"As if this is the first time you're seeing them," Es chided, snatching his silken sash back.

Misora Naomi seemed to snap out of her daze then as she tried to avert her gaze from Es' face out of respect for his privacy — and failing very miserably as her attention was drawn to those bright azure eyes. They seemed calm and deep, almost as though they could see through to any secret. She was inadvertently reminded of the fanciful tales of the detective S but brushed the rebellious thought aside.

She had mistaken Beyond Birthday for S before.

There was no way she would repeat that mistake with Sue Suzuki.

She stormed up to L, trying to ignore her disappointment when Es tied the sash back over his eyes.

"If you're not hurt, you'll have to come with me. Sexual assault is a serious crime. You can't go around throwing your arms around women, or men for that matter. What were you thinking?" she admonished.

Es did not bother to conceal his amused snort.

If Naomi was going to fuss over things like that, she would have to first arrest herself. It was not like Es had consented at the time she threw her arms around him. It made no sense if only L got in trouble when she had done the same.

"Don't just stand there. Say something. This attitude of yours won't make things easier for you. What's your name?" Naomi questioned as she got between Es and L.

L blinked.

Misora Naomi had asked for his name.

He nodded. "Please call me Ryūzaki," L said, unperturbed.

Es muffled a startled laugh.

Rather than simply taking the name B used, L was doing this because Es introduced himself as Sue Suzuki first.

Naomi glared at L.

"Just because you told me your name doesn't mean you're off the hook," she hissed with her eyes narrowed.

"Misora," Es finally interrupted to save L from a trip to the nearest police station, "you also committed that offence just minutes prior. I can't seem to see why Ryūzaki's actions are such a pressing issue."

Misora Naomi opened her mouth once more to argue, but Es interrupted before she could say anything, "Moreover, you are going to be late if you don't hurry to catch your train."

Naomi's mouth snapped shut as she quickly glanced at her watch and almost screamed.

She rushed into the station with Es behind her, not noticing the silent reprimand of the blond to the young man she almost convicted for sexual assault.

The rest of the day, both Es and L had to suffer through a stern talking-to by Watari after their return. Innocent though the former might have been, Watari considered him guilty for failing to halt L's plans. This caused great consternation on Es' part.

Cairn found the matter hilarious, but the work he was swamped with prevented him from enjoying the show fully.

💣

Neither L nor Es knew what to expect when the phone that they used to contact Misora Naomi rang before the latter could destroy it. 

The timing was so perfect that Es wondered if Naomi sensed its impending destruction when he brought it to the scrapper. 

At least that reminded him that he had forgotten to remove the battery.

With a shrug, Es tossed the phone to L — who was watching capoeira videos instead of working again.

Es did not take long to imitate the movements efficiently, string them together into a coherent fighting style and apply them in combat. This was partly due to his experience in taijutsu training in Konohagakure and partly due to his greater physical prowess. L memorised the movements but could not grasp how he should put them to use. He could imitate them, but applying them was a different story. He failed to do them sequentially and could not get past two moves in a spar with Watari. Es easily defeated Watari, so the black-haired detective knew he was better off trying to spar with the older man than Es. Cairn found the fighting style ridiculous and could not understand why Es bothered to learn and incorporate it into his own fighting technique.

L caught the flip phone, his reflexes surprisingly sharp despite his attention being focused on the screen in front of him, and paused the video.

He fumbled with the phone for a moment, not used to using flip phones — he always left receiving calls to Watari. It was three rings later that L managed to find the correct button and click on it. L then held his phone most awkwardly — this was the first time Es had seen L picking up a call using a mobile phone, so he was struck speechless. 

"Hello," L greeted simply, a bit less monotonous than before.

He connected the audio to the room speakers to both Es and himself would be able to hear.

Naomi heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thank goodness," she muttered, "I feared this line wouldn't work anymore."

The two detectives heard her clear her throat and request, "L, could you connect me to Suzuki? I have something that I need to speak with him about."

Es raised an eyebrow but nodded at L.

"Very well," L accepted.

"Thank you so much!" Naomi exclaimed. 

L connected the call to Es' work cell.

Es allowed it to ring twice for believability and took the call, holding his flip phone in a manner much less eccentric than L.

"This is Misora Naomi," the woman's voice rang through the audio of Es' flip phone.

"Hello, Misora," Es stated calmly, switching off the voice changer. 

"You wouldn't believe how glad I am to hear your voice!" Naomi blurted, unaffected by the blond's indifference.

"What happened, Misora?" Es questioned, now slightly concerned.

What could have happened that would cause the newly-reinstated FBI agent to contact him? To her, he was Sue Suzuki. She only met him on a job not too long ago. Naomi had a boyfriend whom she could rely on in her times of distress. Raye Penber was available at the moment, so why was she calling Es before trying to reach him?

Did she realise that he was S? Es feared Watari might chew him out about being too careless during his meetings with Misora Naomi. Though he did not mind as the woman was trustworthy, he feared this knowledge might endanger her.

"I... Suzuki, can I meet you somewhere ASAP?" Naomi asked hurriedly as though worried that the young man she knew as Suzuki would hang up on her.

Es sighed in exasperation. He had no idea what was going on. Why was Misora Naomi so distressed?

"The line is secure," he assured, running his fingers through his hair.

Naomi hesitated but spoke eventually, "Umm... The thing is... I picked up an abandoned kitten, so... would you take it in for me?"

She said it so haltingly that it took Es some time to process.

"A kitten?" he repeated the word in bewilderment.

"Umm... you know what cats are, right? Fluffy balls of love and joy-" Misora Naomi began her highly biased description of cats.

Speaking coolly, Es interjected, "I know what cats are. Enough of that, Misora. My question is simple. Why exactly are you calling me for this?"

He could almost hear Naomi worrying her lower lip.

"Raye's allergic... You are the only one I can trust," she finally said in a small voice.

Es brought the phone away from his ear and stared down at it in disbelief.

Had he given off the impression that he was such a kind person?

"Please, Suzuki! I can't leave the little one out in the cold!" Naomi begged desperately.

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Es queried, "Where are you?"

Es almost heard the woman perking up at his words.

"I'm at the subway station. That one nearest to my place," Naomi hurriedly replied before Suzuki could change his mind.

"I will see what I can do about the kitten," Es stated passively.

"Oh!" Naomi uttered in surprise and delight. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

With yet another sigh, Es hung up.

"Anyone allergic to cats here?" he asked, eyeing Watari and L.

Cairn hated dogs and would proudly acclaim that he was allergic to them, but Es knew that the fox would never reject a homeless kitten. The kitsune just had a soft spot for the tiny felines. Es had ended up opening an animal shelter just to stop the redhead from bringing stray cats back with him. However, with this being a request from someone else, he supposed he could deal with just a single kitten.

"I'm allergic to bats," L said, not very in-context.

Es raised an eyebrow at the unusual remark, but Watari was kind enough to clarify, "He hates Batman. He's never seen an actual bat."

Es chuckled at the interesting detail.

It appeared there were no animal allergies.

"It seems I will be adopting a kitten."

💣

Es stepped out of the cab.

He wore a waterproofed leather coat and boots alongside the usual white silken sash over his eyes, holding a large black umbrella that did not allow a single drop of water to reach him.

There was no way he could have missed Misora Naomi's drenched form crouched by the side of the entrance to the subway station, shielding a rather sodden cardboard box with her own body to protect it from the wind.

None too impressed by the Japanese woman's current state, he stalked over and stood to block her from the wind as well. Naomi seemed to notice the world darken around her and looked up to see a fairly tall blond with his eyes covered by a white blindfold and jumped up. With a light cough, she tried to make herself more presentable to the young man who had been a colleague for the LABB case, as they called it these days.

The last time they had met face-to-face like this, or even spoken, was four months ago. 

"Uh..." Misora Naomi said awkwardly, trying to dismiss her embarrassed flush — though she told herself it was just the cold — that reached the tips of her ears as she tried to hide her shivering.

Although it was not cold enough for the snow to stay, half-melted snow was pooled on the ground and the snowflakes that made it down melted from her warmth. Thus, she was ridiculously cold and half-regretting doing this in the first place. She wanted to look stronger than this, to show that she would not succumb so easily to the chill, but she had a feeling that it was not working very well.

"Hi," she managed to say through chattering teeth.

Rolling his eyes, Es shed his overcoat and placed the warm fabric around her shoulders.

"You are an idiot, Misora Naomi," he reprimanded the Japanese woman in his usual unexpressive voice.

Naomi winced at the well-deserved insult and almost melted into the leftover warmth of the black leather coat as she pulled it closer around herself.

"That was quick," she tried to change the topic.

"Not quick enough, it seems," Es stated dryly. 

Naomi needed a lot of self-control to not shrink away at the unimpressed look she could almost feel the blond giving her through the white silk.

"Why are you out here? You should have gone inside," Es admonished.

"I was..." Naomi trailed off, unsure why she had stayed outside either.

She simply never thought of going inside.

She swore that steam had to be rising off her cheeks by now.

Es just sighed, kneeling next to the box and holding an ungloved hand out to the small black-tabby within.

"He's a Maine Coon. I think the girl who threw him out got the kitten from her boyfriend, who did not know that it would grow up to become a pretty large cat," Naomi explained through chattering teeth as she bent down next to him.

"You are a fool to risk your health for a cat," Es announced even as the kitten nuzzled up to him and allowed him to bring it into his embrace.

Naomi scowled but did not dare to protest.

The Maine Coon — cat breeders may specify it as a Black Silver Classic Tabby — was so docile in Es' arms that one might have thought it was a plush toy, Naomi noticed with a bit of awe.

No matter how much she adored cats, they always hated her. The only cat that allowed her to pet it was a neighbourhood stray that lived close to her house. Even that cat never allowed her to pick it up. The tiny kitten that she had found was not nearly as tame as it presented itself to Es either. It had hissed at her and bared its tiny little claws as it backed away from her hand as soon as she tried to remove it from its sodden box. Did it perhaps despise all female humans because of its abandonment? She hoped that was the case. She did not want to think that it was because even a little kitten hated her.

"Merry Christmas!" Naomi finally remembered to say.

It was already Christmas Eve, after all.

Es smiled slightly, turning to face Naomi as the kitten made itself comfortable on his shoulder.

"Merry Christmas," he wished her in return.

The moment was impossibly brief.

Soon, Naomi found the man she knew as Sue Suzuki turning around as the soft smile melted away.

"Let's meet again!" she called after him.

She was not sure if she had seen correctly, but she thought she saw the blond incline his head in assent as he made his leave.

The snow began to fall heavily, obscuring her vision until Sue Suzuki had vanished from view.

Misora Naomi then realised that she had yet to return the leather jacket.

Surprisingly, it fit her just the way she liked it. It was just slightly big on her but cut a nice figure. The material was soft but sturdy. The leather coat was warm yet not stuffy. The black and glossy appearance of the jacket suited her well and the feeling that this was made just for her suddenly hit her.

She reached into the pockets, only to find a neatly folded piece of paper in the right coat-pocket.

"Misora Naomi," Naomi read the note aloud, surprised that it had been neatly written in Japanese. "Happy holidays. We hope you like the gift. Ryūzaki and Suzuki."

This was a designer jacket that had been specially made for her.

Naomi did not quite comprehend why the young man who tried to hug her at the station and Suzuki, who knew L, would collaborate to give her a gift, but she liked the coat very much.

She was, however, a little worried about Sue Suzuki, who was journeying back to his residence in nothing more than a formal shirt, pants and boots.

💣

By the time Es returned to the hideout, he had a name for the little black-tabby that he took in.

Noel.

A name of French origins which meant Christmas.

Cairn was jealous of the kitten for getting a better name than himself and the kitten in question appeared smug about it while cosying up to his new owner. 

Watari had snatched the kitten up to give it a bath, which Noel enjoyed so much that it almost fell asleep in the basin, and fed him. That seemed to earn the grey-haired man points with Noel, which seemed to be the decisive factor that made Noel unofficially proclaim that Watari was his third-favourite human. Or so Cairn had said snidely when the kitten went back to cuddle with Es and purred whenever L absently reached over to scratch behind Noel's ears. Cairn, who claimed to know the thoughts of the kitten, stated that Es was Noel's favourite with L being second and Watari firmly established as a third while he was instead Noel's most disliked person.

As though to provide evidence to this statement, Noel scratched Cairn.

However, neither Es nor L could stay in Los Angeles forever.

In unspoken agreement, the two parted ways and left the hotel where the two detectives had based themselves for over five months the next day without any words of farewell.

💣

"Why, exactly, am I here?" Es asked warily as he looked down at his wrist, which L currently had an iron-grip on.

"Meeting one of our successors, of course," L replied blandly.

Es was sitting on L's desk because there were no other chairs in this large warehouse apart from the one L was using. 

He had been rather alarmed when Cairn had shooed him out of his mirror realm and onto a jet before flying them both to England — the kitsune got over his fear of flying after one time he got so high on sugar that he even decided it was a good idea to experience what it is like to be a suicide bomber, minus the bomb with more pain. Es had not even known what was going on, only letting the redhead drag him out because he thought that it might be important. It was for this reason that he had no idea how to react when Watari pulled into the private airport within a sportscar and Cairn proceeded to shove him into the passenger seat. 

Watari took him on a very long trip into the countryside and deposited him at the entrance to this abandoned warehouse, leading him to his current situation.

Es wanted to argue that this was an unfair case of kidnapping, but L had not listened to Es' words of protest as he was dragged into L's temporary office.

"I do not see why I have to be here," Es huffed while glaring down at the offending hand.

"He is just as likely to become your successor as he is to become mine," L answered without a pause.

"Why did you not call Near, then?" Es questioned.

L surveyed Es for a moment before stating, "If N came, the two of them would likely ignore me and speak only with you. There is a probability that M would do so even if he is alone, but there is a significant decrease in the likelihood of this occurring. A decrease of forty per cent, in fact."

Es raised an eyebrow.

"Then why don't you meet them alone?" Es pressed, slightly annoyed.

"Can't I want to see my best friend?" L returned in the same manner.

"You are insufferable," Es stated, resigning himself to a long day.

However, seeing L's pleased smile, he found himself thinking that, perhaps, it was not all that bad.

The moment that Mello stepped into the room, he knew that he was intruding on a moment.

He was not too sure what to make of the fact that L — because that hunched figure could only be L — was holding on to someone's wrist. Or the fact that the two, shrouded in shadows, were whispering things back and forth with their heads a little too close. Then there was the fact that the stranger who sat on the desk had a fancy black and white scarf — he wanted one too — which was so nice and fluffy...

Mello would swear up and down after it was all over that he did not scream girlishly in horror or jump backwards and fall onto his bum. It was a manly shout of surprise, he would claim until his dying breath. He would never admit how bad of a first impression he must have made to the two greatest detectives in the world.

Nevertheless, that was the future. 

In the present, however, screaming girlishly in fright and falling gracelessly onto his arse was exactly what Mello did when he realised that the fancy scarf draped across the shoulders of the person seated on the desk was actually alive.

Startled, L swivelled around in his chair to face the forgotten guest while letting go of Es' wrist at last — it was a miracle that L did not leave a purple handprint behind with that bruising grip he had on Es. Es retrieved his freed arm as the kitten — which was starting to grow a little too big to be referred to that anymore — crawled onto his lap and licked his wrist as though to take away the pain. It was an endearing action, however unnecessary it was seeing as Es did not get injured so easily, and he chuckled while tenderly stroking Noel's soft fur.

"Mello," Es greeted, his voice carrying despite the low volume with which he spoke.

Surprisingly, Mello recognised his identity straight away despite not being able to see even the colour of his hair.

Knowing who he was by voice alone, Mello whispered in disbelief, "Dr Noir."

Es hopped off the table while placing Noel on L's head like an oversized hat, but Mello could not focus on the comical sight. Unfortunate. It was as though his attention completely drawn to the person whose words have changed his worldview completely.

"A pleasure to meet you again, dear Mello," Es spoke airily as he stepped into the light.

The morning sunlight was mild as it filtered in through the grimy panes, bathing Es in brilliance as the sun's rays seemed to be caught in his pale golden hair. At that moment, Es did not seem human at all. He was ethereal and magnificent as the swirling golden depths within his azure eyes were highlighted, his eyes seeming to glow as he surveyed the child — teenager now — standing before him. Mello, like all the other children of Wammy's House, revered S. However, within this instance, he felt like the truly amazing person was not the S whose skill surpassed L but this young man who was so knowledgeable and talented that he could test for every single doctorate to exist and attain it. This person changed his life with a few words that afternoon in the only home he had known in his past years.

"Dr Noir, I..." Mello tried to speak but found himself at a loss for words.

What language could encompass the sheer gratitude that Mello held for this young man?

He had no idea where to start, how to explain that those thoughtless words that this amazingly skilled genius had spoken that late summer afternoon had changed him entirely for the better.

A teacher, a researcher, a scientist, a therapist, a lawyer, an entrepreneur, et cetera. That list only went on. Dr Simeon Noir was at the peak of every possible aspect. Everyone wanted a chance to speak with the young genius who had risen to the top in under a decade, hoping that hearing his insights could better themselves. People emulated him, prideful individuals stooping to become fanatics, copying his habit of covering his eyes even if none dared use the same type of blindfold as him.

Dr Simeon Noir was an academic at heart, with little interest in matters regarding social events and occasionally attending gatherings of fellow intellectuals hoping he could reappreciate old concepts and bring new discoveries to light. Unlike L, whom many jealous ones snidely refer to as a hermit, people had nothing but respect for this young man. His efforts to stay out of the spotlight were never recognised and whenever his new publications were printed, the best of the field would snatch them up to peruse. 

Naturally, Es who often sent his novel research findings — from blood clones that wrote the papers and books due to their excess of spare time — to his parents did not know how far his name reached. Ever since his parents had asked him to translate his first essay into a few other languages, he had provided his works in twenty standard languages each. When each of the publications was in one of the original languages provided by the author, nothing will be lost from the incomplete comprehensions of the translator. The fact that Dr Simeon Noir was fluent in at least twenty languages was oftentimes what shocked others the most.

"Enough of that. Please, refer to me as Es," the blond detective corrected firmly. 

"Es...?" Mello echoed as his mind made the connection and his eyes seemed to bulge.

"Indeed," Es stated, his eyes filled with mirth, "I am the one you refer to as S. Currently, it seems that I stand as first."

Mello stumbled backwards as though struck.

The illustrious Doctor whom the world looked up to was the very person known as a mysterious detective who kept pace with the one and only L? The Doctor whose teachings were said to be treated as sacred writings by many was the detective whose face was never seen? Whichever of these was the side job, for these individuals with paths that should never have crossed to be the same person was completely unbelievable. This was far beyond lowering crime rates with his existence as some stated about the demoralising impact of being aware that one would be caught as soon as the crime was committed.

By simple arithmetic, L's ability was the equivalent of five ordinary investigative bureaus and seven intelligence agencies. Although it was easy to think of as a reason to respect and admire someone, that much ability in one human is nothing if not extremely dangerous. Modern danger management techniques rely heavily on diffusing the risk, but L's very existence was the exact opposite. If someone was planning to commit a crime, they could greatly increase their chances of getting away with it by simply killing L before they began. That was why L hid his identity. 

Mello understood that clearly and he knew that S had more unreported cases as compared to L.

S had capability greater than L. 

Yet now he heard that at the same time, Es had conducted painstaking research and written so many intuitive and insightful books about all of it? It surpassed simply having greater prowess. The two could not be compared. Just as Roger Ruvie told the children, if L was on a dimension that they could only look up to and continue to chase even if they dedicated their entire lives to pursuing his shadow, S was beyond that. The children could not even perceive the shadow of S. Now Mello knew that was true.

What kind of absurdity was this? The existence of the detective S made criminals afraid of their own umbrae due to the rumour that he could see everything. The astonishing Dr Simeon Noir's innovative thinking carried the world toward a new age. Though fewer believed in the existence of S than Simeon Noir, there was no doubt that both incredible men were known as legends. 

Had people known that they were just aliases belonging to the same man or known that this person was so unbelievably young, they might very well kneel before him and hail him as a god.

How in the world could he compete with L while still writing so much and researching so deeply?

Everyone had noticed how Dr Simeon Noir's location was always confidential, but no one even considered that his blindfold might have just acted as a superior replacement for an eye mask. People knew that the Doctor never allowed photographs to be taken, but they presumed that it was just personal preference. Those that met him said that he was well-mannered and humble despite his reputation, never that he was secretive or guarded. It never occurred to anyone that the surprisingly open young man who was forthright and generous with his ideas who stood in the spotlight could be the same person as the elusive S who was never seen. 

Perhaps one could have linked the multilingual talents of the two none would have thought to do so and, even if they did, they would dismiss the idea. Mello certainly would have done the same if only he did not recognise the two young men standing before him. How would anyone make such an impossible assumption?

Even if Mello had not recognised the blond as Dr Simeon Noir, the fact that L did not rebuke his claim was sufficient proof of his credibility. The children of Wammy's House too often found mail in their inboxes tipping off the latest culprit that dared misuse the name of S. The most common of these were not people impersonating S. That actually hardly occurred. The contents typically consisted of individuals that claimed to know S and those that attempt to spread false rumours about him. Even so, it was still their job to track down these people and make sure they were punished properly.

L was that protective over his friend and Es was not even aware of it.

"You are S and Dr Noir..." Mello stammered.

Es merely smiled back at the boy, unperturbed.

"You shouldn't even show your face to me then! You are too important..." Mello exclaimed while looking away as though doing so would help in forgetting what he just saw and heard.

"Actually," Es imparted, "this idiot here took off my sash once before in public."

Mello looked a little sick at the very idea of this.

"The CCTV..." Mello managed to choke out.

Es assured, "Wiped clean."

Mello could breathe a little easier now.

"Then..." he muttered, knowing that Es would never mention something like this had it been entirely inconsequential, "who saw?"

Es chuckled. As he had thought, this child was intelligent. Even if he was not the smartest kid in Wammy's House, Mello had the qualities of a peak genius. He did not have to be smarter than Near when his talents lied elsewhere.

"Naomi Misora," L stated, "an FBI agent."

Mello's mouth was agape.

"You revealed yourselves to an FBI agent? Am I hearing this right?" Mello exclaimed in shock as he gave up the formalities he had tried to keep because he was speaking to Es.

"It isn't a problem. To her, we're Ryūzaki and Suzuki."

Mello stared at L for one long moment.

Then he shook his head.

"Nope. I don't get it."

Thereafter, Mello was regaled with tales about the lives of the two detectives.

Things like how they first met, the tough cases that they had solved, the detective war L had waged behind Es' back and many other stories. All they served to do was further cement that there was just no way the successor of L could ever live up to the name. No matter who it was.

Mello, at this point, was convinced that it was definitely going to be Near instead of himself.

However, that did not mean he had given up.

He would challenge L as well, competing with Near for the position.

Whoever came up on top, no resentment or grudges would remain between them.

Mello never knew what the two greatest detectives had planned for Near and himself.

Had he known that they intended for M and N to work together, he might have begged for the detectives to allow the two of them to succeed only one of the names — L's. Mello was not sure if either Near or himself would be able to handle the pressure of being S. Perhaps to the rest of the world it made no difference since the fables have already been established but, while Wammy's House remained, the pressure to not sully the names they have inherited would not be easy to bear.

As for S...

Even if the position was vacant and openly displayed to entice them, none would dare claim it for their own.