Picking up a cellphone and returning the thing to it's original owner should not lend in you in the middle of a murder investigation. Perhaps the road to hell really is paved with good intentions. Somewhat LxOC.

Enfer

| the road to hell is paved with good intentions |

I

.

.

In a perfect world, people aren't careless.

But this, being the world she lives in, it's not perfect and people are careless and drop their cellphones on their way to class and she happens to walk by the thing and picks it up, the action giving her a series of choices like in those bad choose your own destiny kind of game.

A, she can replace the thing on the ground, forgetting its existence completely and hoping that whoever had the brilliant idea to drop it would trace back steps to find it.

B, she could keep it. You never know when you're going to need a second cellphone and the person would eventually buy a new one to replace it – not once realizing that she had it.

C, she could play the nice little college student, dial back the last number on the phone and hoping that this person would know the whereabouts of the owner and tell him/her to come pick up the damn phone.

At first, Nao is tempted to just put the damn thing back. It's not her problem – she isn't careless enough to drop her phone in a public area where someone is bound to pick it up. Why should the fate of this tiny piece of technology be her burden when its owner obviously could not be bothered with it?

But then she'd sighed, flipping the phone opened and dialing back the last number. And this is how exactly she found herself sitting at the café near Toho university, eyes trailing impatiently on the door waiting for the owner of that phone.

The man she'd spoken to as she explained the situation seemed amused. His son was apparently not the forgetful type, but he did wear oversize jeans and that would probably explain why the thing fell off in the first place.

He'd thanked her three times, asking her if she wanted monetary compensation (which she didn't) and finally agreed that he would send his son to fetch the phone wherever she wanted.

She'd picked the place closest to her school, gave a brief description of what she looked like and hung up not feeling at all proud of herself. She should've just left the damn thing on the ground.

There are much better ways she could be spending her time. Her chemistry exam is in two days and she still hasn't started studying for it. Not that it's particularly hard for her to understand and, if she's honest with herself, she knows she won't start the actual studying until the night before, but lying to herself has become a talent.

Each time the door of the café opens, she looks up and waits. She's impatient, can't you tell, and eager to get out of here as fast as possible.

And finally, her impatience is rewarded.

The oddest man she's ever seen walks through the door. Odd in the way that he looks and what he wears. There's black hair messily styled on his head, huge dark circles under his eyes (and she thought she didn't sleep enough) and, most improbably of all, he has his finger in his mouth as he scans the room.

Nao blinks.

The man turns to look at her, a blank stare on his face.

Nao blinks again.

The man moves towards her table, obviously recognizing the phone on top of it.

She blinks again, because that's the only thing that she thinks of doing at that moment.

"You have my phone." The voice is plain, no emotion in it. Nao regards the phone and then the man, back to the phone and then the man again.

"Uh-uh." No one has stunned her into silence before. He looks at her with no emotion on his face whatsoever, eyes not moving from her face. She's pretty sure her mouth is opened.

Snapping back into motion when he grabs the thing in his hand, Nao suddenly remembers that she has things to do that do not include staring at this man a moment longer.

"Thank you." But even that sounds flat – if he's that detached about his phone, then maybe she should've just left it where she found it in the first place.

"Be more careful next time." His eyes snap up to her, the first emotion she's seen him display since she's laid eyes on him. Gathering her book, she shoves it into her bag and grabs her coffee. "I have to go study, have a nice day." On her way out, as she stops to throw the coffee in the trash, she turns around. His eyes are still on her, thumb in his mouth and eyes rimmed black.

She shrugs her shoulders and walks out, deciding that it's better if she forgets the whole thing.

And it actually works – until the next time she runs into him.

.

.

Organic chemistry exam done, Nao hands the paper to the teacher at the desk and takes her time walking out of the classroom. She's one of the first to hand the paper back and she'd lie if she said she didn't enjoy the disbelieving glances the other students shot her way as she finally leaves the room.

It's a nice day today, the kind that is warm, but not so much that every movement makes you sweat. She walks on campus before finding a bench under a tree and flinging herself onto it.

She'd spent most of the night awake to study and now that it's over with, her brain is fried and the rush of adrenaline is long gone and makes her wish that she'd gotten more than four hours of sleep. Her mother always tells her that she shouldn't wait till the last minute to crack open her school books – but she's a twenty-year-old university student, what does the woman expect?

She closes her eyes, enjoying the fact that her next class is three hours away. She certainly has the time for a small nap and it's not like anyone ever bothers her.

But the moment is cut short.

"You're the one who found my cellphone." She only cracks one eye open, gazing at the man in front of her who just ruined her peaceful thoughts.

There he is, the exact same as before, in the exact same clothes as before, staring at her with his dark rimmed eyes and his thumb in his mouth.

What the hell?

Her eyes are opened now and she's pretty sure she's glaring, the muscles in her face tense. See, that is what being a good Samaritan brings – nothing good.

"Can I help you?" She doesn't mean to be hostile. No, scratch that – her tone is laced with nothing inviting for a reason. That man is careless enough to drop his phone and now he's disturbing her sleep. What's next?

"Ah. I've recently been informed that I should thank you properly for the return of my phone." He actually fishes out the thing from his pocket, showing it to her. It's plenty awkward. She blinks, the irritation draining from her face.

"Recently?" She looks at the man. "You don't go out much, do you?" But it's a rhetorical question – the man clearly doesn't spend much time in direct sunlight or sleep at night. And while he's not ugly, she can't picture him with friends going out for drinks or having a girlfriend.

He casually ignores what she says with a shrug of his shoulders, his eyes focusing on her once more.

"As I could not think of anything to get you, I would like it if you accompanied me to lunch." It's not the words he uses, but the way he says it. He's staring at her like she really doesn't have a choice in the matter. She almost wants to tempt her fate and tell him no.

"You won't leave until I come with you, uh?" He nods his head, his back folding. If she cared at all, she would think that he has a posture problem, but she doesn't care – so she doesn't think about it. "Fine." Her arm cracks as she reaches for the bag and finally stands up.

.

.

He chooses a place not too far from the school, actually not that far from the café where she first met him.

It's not fancy by any means and mostly frequented by students because of its low prices and the fact that don't bother checking your ID if you order a drink. There's a TV not too far away from her seat and she's glad – it keeps her distracted from the man with the huge eyes who keeps staring at her.

"You never told me your name." Eyes trail away from the television to the man. She shrugs her shoulders.

"You never asked." And besides, it's not like she gives out her name to just anyone she meets. His black eyes shine, the corner of his lips twitching. He obviously doesn't smile much.

"I'm Ryuga Hideki." She snorts.

"Of course you are." But his expression doesn't change and she raises an eyebrow. "Like the phony drama actor?" He nods his head, thumb firmly attached to his lips.

"I am told I look nothing like him." She snorts again, a slow sardonic smile on her face.

"I'll have to agree with that." Ryuga Hideki, for all intents and purposes, is a very handsome man – and he's also way too stupid to be at Toho university. "I'm Deushi Nao." Nothing particularly exciting about her name. No one named her after some idiot actor.

The waiter comes and goes with their order. She sticks with what she knows best - a bowl of Udon. Besides, it's too hot for her traditional bowl of ramen. She looks over to Ryuga's plate of desert and rolls her eyes.

"So, what do you study at Toho?" Not that she's curious, but she wonders what set of skills the man possesses.

"Ah. Criminology." Hum, she pauses, trying to picture this man as a profiler on some police show. Sure, that could work. He certainly looks eccentric enough to be surrounded by serial killers. "And you, Nao-san?" She swallows a handful of noodles.

"Oh. Chemistry." She thinks it's the first time she's seen him blink. He looks at her as if this is the farthest thing he had in mind for someone like her. She's almost offended – almost. "Why, what's wrong with that?"

"I'm surprised, that's all." And he genuinely looks surprised. His eyes shine black and his fork remains in the cake. "One would not think that when they look at you. I imagined you more in the humanities department." She can't figure out if it's a compliment or an insult.

She shrugs.

"I don't care much for human interactions or their history." And suddenly, his thumb is back in his mouth and his head is cocked to the side.

"What about justice?" Is that what this is? Does he think what he studies is so much more interesting than anything else? Uh, he certainly doesn't give off the cocky vibe when you first look at him.

"Justice is too abstract, changes from one person to the next." He's biting the top of the finger, eyes darker somehow.

"Do you have an opinion on it? Let's say, about the Kira case? Some would argue that Kira has his own brand of justice, that he's cleaning up the streets and making the crime rate drop."

"I think that Kira is a bit of a hypocrite." A blink, urging her to go on. She sighs, how did a simple conversation turn into something so odd?

"Well, he obviously believes that he's making the world a better place. He wants to create some sort of utopia. But he's also murdering people while doing it. If he doesn't plan to kill himself after he's done, then he's not making much sense."

"And if Kira killed himself, would that excuse his behaviour?" What is this? Is there a hidden camera in the back?

"It would make him coherent." She pauses. "But Kira doesn't strike me as the type of person who would commit suicide. Obviously, whoever is doing this believes that their brand of punishment is the right one – so they have an ego problem. I don't think suicide is in their future."

She remembers when she'd witnessed the podcast, both of her parents keeping their eyes glued on the television as the man claiming to be the famous detective L announced that he was chasing Kira.

"I also believe Kira has an ego problem. I'm curious, did you ever give a thought as to who might be Kira?"

"No. It's why I don't study criminology. I have no interest in solving cases." His gaze doesn't waver from hers, almost as if he's trying to determine if she's saying the truth.

"But if you had to? Who would you guess?" He must be very good at interrogating people. He certainly picked the right subject to study. The first time she'd seen the man, he'd shown no interest in anything, not even his lost cellphone.

"This is a weird conversation."

"Humor me, please." Her forehead furrows in concentration as she tries to piece everything she knows about Kira, which is basically nothing more than next person.

"Well, Kira is obviously privy to classified information on those he murders, so I'm guessing either a police officer or someone related to one." She bites her lip. "But a police officer would have experience and not have fallen for that trick on the television a few weeks ago. So, I'm going to go with a relative. And he/she would have screwed ideals and clearly lacks maturity – someone young maybe? I really don't know."

She almost falls off her chair when she notices how the man has crouched on his chair, thumb still in his mouth and regarding her with a new serious face, the kind he'd never worn before.

There is a hidden camera somewhere, she's sure. The host just waiting for the right moment to pop in and tell her that she'll be on national TV. She looks around her suspiciously.

"Nao-san's reasoning is very good." And as he looks at her, with this curious smile spreading on his lips and the way his eyes shift, like he's coming up with an idea (she's sure she's not going to like it)…

Nao wonders why she didn't just leave that cellphone on the ground.


a/n : Hi. Um, well this is my first Death Note story. I've read a lot of Death Note stories with OC's and I thought I'd give it a go, for once with a character who actually has no interest in solving a case. I still don't know if she'll end up with someone or not, but at least she'll be friends with L. Let me know if you think I should continue this story, feedback is always appreciated. I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!

I do not own Death Note.