*swaggers in late with Starbucks* Hullo, readers! Happy New Year, and all that jazz! I hope the erratic updates aren't throwing you guys off, but I feel like I should have warned everyone about irregular updates earlier. Oops. Well, if you aren't familiar with the Stormy Style, then please know that there is no such thing as "regular" updates in my world. XD Apologies in advance.

Thank you, everyone, for all of the support that you have given me over the years - for this version of CY and the original. Your feedback is incredibly valuable to me as a writer and, as readers, I encourage you to speak your mind so that I can constantly improve the quality of my work.

WildfireDreams: I am truly impressed that you've been able to keep up with me this whole time. Thank you for your dedication. :)

Metaphors and Miracles: Aww, thank you! I'll try to retain my current level of quality then, especially since this story will be more quickly paced than the original. I hope you enjoy it!

Akira0666: I'm glad you like it! As for the changes... yeah, they had to be made. XD I was in middle school when I was first putting together this story, though I didn't put it up on here until high school after much revision. Even though the original holds a special place in my heart, CY was in drastic need of a revamping. Hopefully this update follows the trend of awesomeness that I've been trying to achieve.

I also feel the need to throw in a quick disclaimer: please do not try anything mentioned in this book at home. Just because something is physically possible doesn't mean that we should test this for ourselves.

And now, without further ado, I present you chapter four. Hope you all are having a wonderful day! Kat, out!

Knowledge is Power. Power Corrupts. Study Hard; Become Evil

Previously...
(January 17, 2007; 9:16 A.M.
South Gate, California; United States)

"You will accept my offer, KC, because I am the only person alive who can give you what you want," Beyond said, eyes glittering in the faint light. "And our time is up, so I cannot tell you here and now."

Dammit. He wasn't wrong.

I had a ten-second debate with myself. To care or not to care. Did I really need L's help to get home? Probably. Did I really need Beyond to get to L to get L's help?

...Probably.

Schist.

The building is completely surrounded, Trey informed me tensely. We can't afford to drag him along. Getting out by ourselves will be difficult enough as is.

Difficult, but not impossible.

KC, don't you dare. Don't you fucking dare. I can see what's in your mind, and it. Is. STUPID.

I drew one of the diamond daggers from its hiding place in the hat. Even when I stepped closer and leveled it at the man's chest, Beyond didn't break eye contact.

"Beyond Birthday," I rumbled. "We have a deal."

Slicing through the straightjacket and restraints took a matter of seconds, but it was seconds wasted. Trey, link me to the cameras, I ordered as I ripped the jacket off of Beyond. The man before me rolled his shoulders and a series of cracks echoed loudly in the confined space. I need to know what I'm up against.

We're completely surrounded. Thirty cars, each officer with partners, and six dogs. That's more ammunition than I'd like to chance, the loctopus replied, but he brought up the external cameras anyways.

Oh dear.

"Wonderful," I muttered under my breath. Well, if we can't just make a break for it, let's make a break. Give me the building schematics.

Turning to Beyond, I flipped the dagger around so that the hilt pointed towards him. I extended it to him without a word.

Naturally, Beyond would have something to say about this. "You do realize that this is the equivalent of giving drugs to a junkie or alcohol to a drunk." That smirk would haunt my nightmares.

"So hurry up and take the damned thing before I change my mind."

The schizophrenic plucked the knife from my grasp and idly spun it around his fingers. I was momentarily hypnotized by his astounding dexterity, until I remembered that I couldn't let Trey do all of the work.

"Is there anything in this building that could survive a building collapsing on top of it?" I asked Beyond. "Someplace large enough to stash a body?"

His apathetic expression told me exactly what he thought of random questions, but the amusement flashing in his dark eyes caught me off guard. "There's a safe on the first floor. Chubb. 1979. Fairly durable. Whose body are you planning to 'stash'?"

"Ours," I replied dryly. "Go downstairs, locate the safe, and meet me by the elevators when you're done. Also, if you can find any organic material, like blood or tissue samples, get them."

I sprinted from the room without another word.

Trey, blueprints. Now.

There are five places downstairs that meet the proper criteria. We'd have to blow them at two different times to get the building to collapse in on itself, though. Do you have enough gum?

I always have enough gum.

I jabbed the button to the elevator. Most people say that it's suicidal to take the elevator during an emergency, but it was quicker than trying to run up twenty flights of steps. As soon as it arrived, I rode it to the top floor, pack of gum in hand. Pacifying elevator music accompanied me. When I reached the correct floor, I sent the elevator to the basement level and raced down the hallway, following the blueprints in my mind. I popped two sticks of spearmint in my mouth, chewed for thirty seconds, and deposited them in the corner of an empty office room near the far side of the building.

Cue the one and a half minute countdown.

Poking the giant ball into the groove where two walls meet the floor, I stretched the gum as far as it could go, popping another stick into my mouth as I went. I began to connect the balls of gum, sticking them to one another and stretching them as far as they could go. Once I had one entire wall of the twenty-fifth floor outlined in explosive gum, I ran back to the elevator, spat out the blob in my mouth, and lobbed it towards a random corner. Using the diamond dagger I still had, I pried open the elevator shaft, slipped off the Watari coat, wrapped it around the cables, and slid down to the top of the elevator. By the time I weaseled through the doorway of the first floor, the first explosion went off.

Beyond watched with an unreadable expression as I barely managed to dodge an incoming chunk of falling plaster. At his side sat an open cooler of blood bags.

"Is the safe bolted to the floor?" I asked, somewhat breathlessly.

"Yes," he answered in a steady voice.

I nodded, mind mulling over everything. "Cover the outside of the safe in the blood. Don't leave a single spot untouched, but save half a bag. Pull everything out of the safe and set it on fire. Be ready to get in it when I come back." I handed him the lighter as I walked past, not bothering to see his reaction.

Trey, show me where to plant the gum.

The next few minutes were spent snapping acidic glowsticks, chewing bubblegum, and running like hell back to where I had last seen Beyond. I called to him and followed the sound of his voice down a winding hallway. As instructed, the safe was sufficiently covered in blood and an opened bag sat propped against the cooler. Pulling Trey from his hiding spot on the back of my neck, I coated him in the remaining blood and stuck him just under the latch on the door.

You better let us out after we drop, I told him.

Trey shot me the image of a shit-eating grin. Yes, master. I live to serve.

"Hop in," I instructed Beyond, waving my hand at the safe. I chose not to notice that the man had somehow managed to crack open the safe and remove the files without further instruction from me. (In all honesty, I had been expecting to use Trey to break in—but that wouldn't have left us much time to take cover.)

If he was at all nervous about squeezing himself into a very small space with a crazy lady, Beyond gave no such indication. He didn't even hesitate to weasel himself in.

Climbing inside the safe, I tugged the door closed and finished my countdown. "Four, three, two, one."

The second explosion shook the building.

"Brace yourself. We're about to drop," I warned Beyond.

'Cramped' would have been the understatement of the century had I used it to describe my current circumstances. Beyond and I were a hair too tall to stand up straight inside of the safe, so bent knees poked one another in places that were probably more uncomfortable for him than me. His breath rasped in my ear since our heads practically sat on one another's shoulders. I was just glad that I didn't have giant boobs to work around.

The first collision with the top of the safe caught us both off guard. Beyond hissed when I accidentally elbowed him in the ribs. Grunting, I shifted so that I could brace with one arm up near my head and the other wrapping around Beyond's side. It was too dark to see how the man handled himself, but I could feel him slide an inch or two lower so that he could press one knee against the opposite wall to my right; the heat seeping through his pants was warm enough for me to feel through the layers upon layers of skin-tight clothing.

The next few collisions came back to back, and then one final blow toppled us. My collarbone caught Beyond's head when he lurched forward, trying to avoid crumpling on top of me. Then the safe tipped again and started rolling. I can't say who won the contest for most creative swears, but it was a long twenty seconds of pretending that we were children hiding inside of a dryer.

It took another twenty seconds after we stopped moving—we were laying on our sides, trying to disentangle our limbs—before Trey hacked the combination and picked the lock. As soon as the dual locking system disengaged, I shoved the door open and clambered out. A quick look around told me everything I needed to know.

I put a finger to my lips and helped pull Beyond to his feet. Collecting Trey from the open door, I shoved the bloody loctopus back under the collar of my turtleneck and beckoned for Beyond to follow me down the sewer tunnel.

The plan couldn't have worked more perfectly if it had been scripted in an action movie. The first explosion had destabilized the building, making it easier for the second explosion to topple it, and provided us with a nice debris precipitation. The second explosion had toppled the building and blown open the capsules to synthesize the acidic reaction faster. Corrosion had eaten away the important supports (and the floor), causing the building to fall in on itself rather than topple like a felled piece of timber. However, since the acid would dissolve anything inorganic, the safe and Trey had to be coated in a layer of organic material to prevent corrosion (since corrosion of the safe would mean that a beam could tear through and kill us). The weight of the building coming down had busted a hole into the sewers. Trey had opened the safe from the outside since he was somewhat protected from the fall by hiding in the combination well. No casualties. No flaws.

Police: zilch. KC: over nine thousand.

January 16, 2007; 10:42 A.M.
Downey, California; United States

Exploding bubble gum was new to Beyond. Chew for thirty seconds. Spit. Run like hell. Two minutes after the gum first came into contact with human saliva, the gum would explode. Of course, the woman waited until after she popped half of the pack in her mouth before telling this to Beyond.

Half of the remaining pack to blow the roof of the mental hospital; the other half to destabilize the foundation of the building.

Corrosive glow sticks were another first of Beyond's. When snapped, the acid would explode from the capsule ten minutes later and begin to dissolve any inorganic material it touched, unless the bubble gum blew open its capsule first. "Like Hot Hands, but less heat and more destruction," KC had told him. Apparently humans, being organic, were safe from the corrosion, but bringing the building down directly on top of them had been the last thing Beyond had been expecting.

Hiding in the safe was also quite clever. Cramped, but clever. (They had had to relieve the safe of the real files on Beyond Birthday, which he did by setting them on fire as well, in order to make room.) By covering the safe in blood from the hospital's emergency stash, the corrosion wouldn't eat through the safe and get them crushed (or impaled) by accident. But KC never explained how she got the door open afterwords.

They had spent approximately an hour in the sewers, during which time KC spent slicing off the bits of her clothes that had come into contact with the acid to prevent further corrosion. Beyond had jogged after her, grasping the dagger she had given him.

Though he had initially questioned the woman for handing him a weapon, Beyond was learning that, sometimes, it was better to see what asinine results would come from the estranged concoctions of KC's mind.

The subject of weaponry had not been approached since.

Now, they were ambling through the streets of Downey, KC clutching her head and all but leaning on Beyond for support as heavy rain pummeled everyone foolish enough to be outdoors. The longer Beyond watched, the more he would notice. Like the way she swayed away from passing pedestrians who weren't anywhere close to her, or how she had to squint to focus on anything, or the way her complexion deteriorated from pale into light gray with each passing minute. When she ditched him for exactly forty-eight seconds to burglarize a convenience store, Beyond stopped suspecting that something was wrong and knew.

Especially when KC returned to him with two empty cans of Monster, with four more tucked into the pockets of her coat and one half-drunk in her hands.

This woman was out of her mind.

But within minutes, her complexion improved, the grip on Beyond's arm was definitely tighter than before, and her hold was more to prevent him from pulling away than to keep herself upright.

KC couldn't have been experiencing caffeine withdrawals, nor any sort of sugar crash. The symptoms didn't match. Furthermore, she hadn't been shaking. But something had been rapidly sapping her strength to the point of almost dropping dead. A fluctuating terminal illness, perhaps?

Beyond could feel it—faint, but present. Like a titan awakening after years of slumber, curiosity blinked sleep from its eyes. Mildly irritating and persistent, it poked at Beyond.

It had been a long time since anything had piqued his curiosity. Five years of solitary confinement, first in a hospital, then in jail, and finally in L's perfect little trap—it had done a real number on his mentality. Beyond had long since stopped caring about many things, like the outside world (since L would prefer to keep him locked away to simmer in his failure) or other people (who could never understand his perspective anyway). It felt nice to finally have something to occupy him after five years of lacking stimuli.

He would vehemently deny it aloud, but Beyond felt damn good right about then. Free, curious—not to mention, a genius—finally strolling the streets with a fascinating individual. Dare he think it... Beyond might have considered himself to be having fun.

Then they arrived at the unspoken destination, and Beyond began to question more than his life choices.

It was an enormous hotel—too gilded and ostentatious to have honestly appealed to KC. Yet when the woman insisted that they clamber up the fire escapes, Beyond merely wiped some of the excess blood off of his hands and got to climbing.

"I have never once been submissive," he had said, a very long time ago. Beyond was practically a different person then. "One of the few things I can boast about. I have never even been submissive to a traffic signal."

Even when KC stopped on the seventh floor to chug another energy drink, even as Beyond's eyes scanned the enormous tower and the spiraling fountain out front and the frazzled valets running circles amongst the long line of expensive cars rolling under the expanseway and the enormous sign on the curving rooftop that proclaimed "CASINO" in loopy cursive, even when [in a rather amusing lapse of attention] KC left herself wide open and Beyond curled his fingers around the blade of the knife—he didn't. He didn't doubt. He didn't antagonize. He didn't kill. He didn't fall back on old habits. He didn't.

For the first time, Beyond Birthday was entirely complacent—out of subtle euphoria.

Freedom was something that most took for granted. Five years in restraints, either by heavy Velcro or the tight bind of a straitjacket, was all it took for Beyond to learn his lesson. He understood what it was like to be confined, to be humiliated, to be completely immobilized when and where it counted.

But now he breathed fresh air, climbed fire escapes with a woman whose mental stability was even more questionable than Beyond's himself, and felt alive.

So he didn't mind all that much when the woman gave sharp orders; not that he didn't train a hellish smirk on her the entire time. Freedom brought with it a familiar, bitter taste: anger. Anger at L for locking him away, anger at himself for so badly underestimating (or overestimating, depending on how one looks at it) Naomi Misora, and just anger in general. And even though his smirk had very little relation to how he was feeling, he had also severely underestimated KC's ability to read body language, because their pause on the seventh floor lasted longer than expected when she fixed an intense stare upon Beyond.

"There are conditions to the terms of your release," she began, pivoting to face him fully once more. Then, and only then because he was incredibly rusty, did Beyond notice the dagger gripped in one hand—an identical match to the knife that he held. During the slightest of silences, Beyond caught himself glancing between the two to check for any discrepancies; as far as he could see, there were none. "Leave the kid untouched and I'll personally assure you that the police, nor L, will lay a finger on you. If you fancy yourself clever enough to stab me in the back and get away with it..."

Suddenly, Beyond found himself pinned against the outside of the hotel wall, KC's knife at his throat.

KC's grin was downright maniacal as she said, in a tone more growl than voice, "Well, I wouldn't completely discourage you from trying it sometime."

Curiosity made way for other emotions that Beyond hadn't felt in some time. Memories resurfaced, actions made prevalent—the un-private detective emerged full-force and Beyond raked his eyes over the woman's body.

Going off of the underlying power in her voice, Beyond would have to say that KC held a position of equal power. The certainty, yet oddly versatile, offensive stance that she took against him looked fluid, practiced, trained—she was surely skilled in hand to hand combat. Pressed up against the contours of his neck where it met the back of his jaw, positioned directly over his jugular so as to avoid the trachea should she desire to decapitate him, the knife nipped; KC was familiar with human anatomy—and what it took to end a life. The way she took control of her circumstances, both now and back at South Gate, led Beyond to believe her a woman of constitution, dominance, and logic. She made her demands firmly, yet somewhat offhandedly, as though to give the impression that she had far worse to worry about than keeping her poor, recently-freed criminal under control.

A single spark of anger suddenly became directed at KC.

Beyond Birthday yielded to nothing and no one. Not even a fucking traffic signal.

So he let his smirk widen. His mouth opened slightly so that his tongue could slither out and lightly trace the closest knuckle of the hand wielding the blade.

KC didn't even blink.

She was good, but not good enough. Beyond still noticed the way her core muscles contracted—the fight or flight temptation that must have surged within her.

So even you have a concept of socially acceptable behavior, Beyond mused.

But to Beyond's utter astonishment, KC wiped the knuckle off on his chin before withdrawing the blade.

When KC resumed climbing up the fire escape (which was rather poorly constructed for a hotel of such expense and magnitude), Beyond delicately fingered the moisture on his face before following.

A real piece of work, she was. It might be fun to break her.

Clambering through a window on the tenth floor, Beyond had just enough time to think this before agony ripped through his entire body and a seizure threw him to the floor.

January 16, 2007; 12:03 P.M.
Downey, California; United States

I wasn't entirely sure what I had been expected upon returning to the hotel. Maybe Autumn would be watching television, taking a bath, or doing other strange things that small children do when the only supervision they have is an artificially intelligent lock-picking device. When I crawled through the window and called out, "Autumn?" in a hushed voice barely louder than a whisper, I certainly didn't expect to hear the crackle of a taser behind me.

Whirling around and brandishing the knife like a woman possessed, I felt the fight leave my body at the sight of Beyond Birthday slumped against the floor at the feet of my six-year-old charge.

Who was holding the taser that I had swiped from the police evidence lockers.

Autumn looked at me with wild eyes. "You were being followed!" she declared in a voice equal parts terror and pride.

Personally, I wasn't sure if I should be more terrified or proud.

January 16, 2007; 1:00 P.M.
Los Angeles, California; United States

I should have tried to wake Beyond earlier. I should have thought this through a little more. I probably should have left Autumn at a safe house. I definitely should have had Trey double-check my sanity before embarking on a new operation.

How the hell was I supposed to leave the country if L had plastered our faces all over America's No-Fly list?

Okay, that one was simple.

(And it was my face and Autumn's. For some reason, Beyond wasn't even mentioned when I hacked the Department of Homeland Security. Not for the first time, I wondered just how deep L's connections ran, and if L had somehow made the connection between the woman who escaped from the hospital and the Watari-esc individual who had freed Beyond. It wouldn't surprise me if Autumn and I were on the No-Fly list because of our questionable circumstances alone. Regardless, it sure makes a woman paranoid.)

But how the hell were we supposed to leave the country if 'Jessica McGee' wasn't a solid alias (and when it was, it would surely pop up because of my flight form the hospital), I had no backup and no allies and no real plan and no Blacksmith to fund my adventures, and we had to do so without endangering the lives of civilians?

My "not-so-great-and-thus-not-real" plan: wing it like a boss.

So when Beyond groggily, and tentatively, ran his fingers over his temple to signal his awakening, I said before he could speak, "Apologies for the electrocution. We're at the Los Angeles International Airport. Rise and shine, or you're getting left in the land of the free."

His eyes blinked open and stared impassively at the ceiling of our stolen vehicle. (Regrettably, the millionaire's Shelby Cobra wasn't discreet in the slightest, so I had to swap it for a less distinctive car.) I had parked the tiny Audi in the most accessible location, in case a quick getaway was necessary, but I was still on high alert as I swept my eyes around the area. I was looking for people (witnesses, officers, or maybe a patrolman who had noticed me breaking every speed limit law from Downey to here), exits, and maybe a food court. Not even the glucose drip, which I had swiped from my IV stand when fleeing the hospital, was doing much good; and I had one Monster left, which I proceeded to chug when I popped the top.

Squinting at the harsh light streaming in through the windows, Beyond lifted his head and glanced around. I almost choked on the Monster when his entire body went rigid.

"I don't mean to alarm you," Beyond said in a low undertone, "but there is a youth in the backseat. And she has a gun."

One glance in the rear-view mirror showed me Autumn glowering at Beyond with all of the ferocity of a tiny kitten. She might have been cute had she not been aiming a pistol in Beyond's general direction. Her grip was too tight and had the gun fired, Autumn would have shot Beyond in his arm if she was lucky, but it got the idea across.

I didn't trust Beyond as far as I could throw him, and I certainly wasn't about to take any chances.

Then again, there were probably better ways to handle this than giving the kid a gun.

"Meet my apprentice, Autumn," I said, taking more delight in the situation than I should have. "Kid, you know who this is."

"Hmm. My assumption was incorrect." Beyond twisted his torso at an impossible angle and propped himself up on one elbow. Since the seat was reclined, he was practically in the backseat. "You are not a hostage nor her child."

"Fight me," Autumn said in a quivering voice, but determination blazed in her eyes and the gun's aim didn't waver.

But now she would have been shooting Beyond's hip.

And as much as I wanted to see how this would end, I had to look at the bigger picture.

"Save the fighting for after we arrive in Japan. If we do so and keep all our limbs, we'll have earned it." I released a heavy sigh as I glanced around yet again. "We're boarding a flight that departs at exactly two o'clock; the time is now one oh'three. L has already informed authorities that we might attempt to flee the country but he has no idea who was behind the jailbreak. There is no one who can smuggle us to Japan, especially not at an acceptable rate, and we can only rely on ourselves."

Beyond didn't say anything. He didn't have to. One corner of his mouth curled into the infuriating smirk that I was coming to associate with the spawn of Satan. A single glance sent my mind scrambling for holy water and, for the first time in quite a while, Trey snorted.

Smooth, was his only remark.

In an effort to conserve energy, Trey was operating on low-power until I needed him, but one look at that inauspicious expression had me rethinking me game plan.

And I had to say... I liked it.

"Congrats, B. You've been promoted from captive to operative."

NONONONONONO-

I DID say that I would make a habit of throwing you at deranged psychopaths. I'm just going to be a bit more... gentle about it this time.

You bitch! Trey cried.

All throughout this verbally silent debate, Beyond spent staring at me with an unreadable expression. By the time I tossed him Trey's limp form to him, Beyond was more than prepared to catch. However, no sooner than he had obtained my mechanical companion did he hold the loctopus by a single leg, pinched between two fingers.

"It picks locks. Press it against any keyhole until it vibrates in your hand," I explained. "Hold onto it until further notice. Lose it, and I'll assume you'd rather pick locks with your own finger bones." I raise my dagger for emphasis.

"His name is Trey," Autumn informed brightly. "His stomach is ticklish."

Beyond, pointedly ignoring my less than subtle threats, squinted at the loctopus. "He?" the man muttered, almost to himself.

KC, if you make me stay here and babysit again, I will-

You're the best, Trey, I interrupted with a unholy smirk. Aloud, I announced, "Be back in twenty. Try to avoid killing each other."

"'Kay," Autumn mumbled. Fear was creeping into the girl's expression, as though terrified at the thought of being left alone with the serial killer.

"And if you aren't back in twenty minutes?" Beyond asked, eyeing me passively.

I shrugged and opened the driver's door, slipping out into the parking garage. "There are disposable debit cards in the dash. Check into a regal hotel and keep yourselves occupied until I get back."

"And if you don't come back?"

It took all of my self-control not to stab Beyond through the back of his left hand. Training a dark stare on the man and trying not to focus on how he returned the look with a challenging expression, I grinned.

Then I slammed the car door.

January 16, 2007; 1:18 P.M.
Los Angeles, California; United States

When KC returned thirteen minutes later, once again shrouded in a Watari guise, Beyond couldn't help but notice the woman's confident strides. And when said woman and her confident strides ushered Beyond and the small child through many back doors and long hallways, Beyond was truly impressed when they emerged on a runway with a fueled plane already waiting to be boarded.

Within minutes, all three people were aboard with their "luggage", the plane sealing itself closed as KC threw herself into the pilot's seat. The girl had been left in First Class with some generic Disney film occupying her, so Beyond sank into the seat next to KC and watched the woman with a sense of estranged fascination. Curiosity blazed inside of Beyond—how had KC managed to secure them a plane in thirteen minutes?—but he understood that fleeing the country was a more pressing matter than satisfying his own impulsive desires.

He really had changed in the five years spent in isolation. Where once was a bold and proud man, ruled by his passions and wayward morals, now stood (or sat) a man of intellect, wisdom, cunning, and wariness.

If nothing else, Beyond Birthday would learn from his mistakes.

"Ever flown a plane before?" KC asked suddenly, drawing Beyond from his thoughts.

"Are your skills inadequate for such a task?" he countered, unable to help himself.

As predicted, KC shot him a venomous look. "Have you or haven't you?" she questioned. Buckling herself into place with sharp, swift motions, KC was attempted to retain her composure and was doing a marvelous job.

However, Beyond could glean her frustration from the slightest cracks in her facade. KC was stressed, and Beyond's witticisms were only furthering her anxiety.

"I haven't," he admitted, "though my mastery of aerodynamics is more than sufficient to get us in the air. So long as I can determine how the controls work, I understand the process that must be followed in order to ascend."

"If you tell me that landing is a matter of basic physics, I will shoot you," KC stated flatly.

Beyond gave her a lecherous smirk. "Physics, aerodynamics, intuition..." If looks could kill, Beyond would have been a smoldering pile of ash.

"...Trade seats. I can explain the controls. You fly and I'll play air traffic controller."

Yesterday, if someone had told Beyond that he would be flying a plane out of the United States with the woman and child who broke him out of South Gate Psychiatric Hospital, he would have offered to admit them into the asylum as his roommate.

January 16, 2007; roughly two hours later
Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean

When all that could be seen was the expanse of ocean stretching out far below them, Beyond asked his question.

"How did you come to procure an aircraft?"

KC blinked and wearily raised her head. Once again, the woman's condition had been deteriorating, but at a much slower pace. Her skin was flushed slightly with exertion, and if her bobbing head and unfocused eyes were anything to go by, KC was struggling to remain conscious.

"The same way I got into South Gate," she replied after a moment. "Turns out that L has incredible influence, even in airports."

It clicked. And it was so simple an idea that Beyond was surprised that he hadn't thought of it at all, much less first.

KC had impersonated L to get into South Gate Psychiatric Hospital. It would make sense for her to demand a plane using the same disguise.

Vaguely impressed, Beyond returned his attention to the controls.

It hadn't taken him but a few minutes to memorize the controls of the airplane. Beyond knew a lot of what was to be done from his schooling at the orphanage, but he had no experience with which to apply his knowledge. Throw in a little refresher from KC and Beyond was ready to take to the skies.

If taking off a straightjacket for the first time in five years was Beyond's idea of freedom, then flying completely took him by surprise. To be soaring high above the clouds, to have surpassed gravity, was an entirely unfamiliar experience—and Beyond loved it. The idea that he was literally taking his own life into his hands was another bonus. He loved the thrill. And that view...

Had Beyond known what this would feel like in younger years, he would have never accepted his fate at Wammy's.

"I'm going to check on the kid," KC said, rescuing Beyond from incredibly sappy thoughts before he could turn into a pile of mush. Unbuckling herself from the co-pilot's seat, KC trained a firm look on him and added, "If something happens, use the intercom."

She was gone before Beyond could reply.

Sighing silently, Beyond returned his attention to the flight controls.

He knew that this freedom was momentary—that, once they landed, it was unlikely for him to feel such a way again—but he wasn't keen on basking in his current emotions. From what little conversation they had exchanged back in the hospital, Beyond understood that they were going to Japan because of L, though the notion of 'why Japan?' was not lost on him.

Why would L be in Japan? More importantly, how did KC know this?

Though if Beyond was to truly question his "saving grace," then he might as well question her odd skill sets, her insistence of dragging a small child into this, or even her strange condition. But, as questioning alone was a task both pointless and fruitless, Beyond resolved himself to remaining focused.

Arrogance and short-sidedness were his downfall before; and Beyond refused to fall victim to such a humiliating failure again.