Take a deep breath, Sayu. And what ever you do, just don't cry in front of them. Daddy always said I cried too much over little things but now it's important to be strong. She focused on the steady click of her heels against the concrete sidewalks. One step, two step. One step, two step. It had been three days since she had last left the house after receiving the news. And she would still be curled up under her bed's warm blankets had some one not called the household to tell her that the NPA had collected her father's belongings. They said they would send it by mail but Sayu insisted on coming by to pick the things up herself. Light was far too busy these days and the thought of her mother doing the task was out of the question; like Sayu, the older woman had been struck down by grief, perhaps even worse in her despair. No. It was Sayu's duty to go there in person and take care of matters. She didn't want anyone else to handle her father's belongings; it only seemed right for her to go.

When the college student arrived at the NPA headquarters there were two desk clerks awaiting. Their faces were familiar, perhaps she had seen them at one the seasonal gatherings for policemen and their families. Both of them looked old enough to fathers, perhaps even someone's grandfather. It did not matter anymore. At one point, Sayu would have made the effort to be amiable but despair had made its niche in her heart and it was draining even just to smile. She could see the hesitancy in their gazes, a cloud of uneasiness as Sayu approached. I must look terrible, she thought. Sayu had left without putting on any make-up. She forced her chin upward, straightening her posture as she hoped to muster at least the illusion of composure.

She bowed in greeting, and the gesture was reciprocated. Before the two men could spit out their condolences, Sayu said quietly "I am here to pick up Yagami Soichiro's personal items."

While one of the men nodded and made leave to fetch the belongings, the other individual remained behind and tried to occupy Sayu's attention with small talk. His words blurred together and rudely, Sayu found herself only half-listening. You look so much like your mother when she was your age, Yangami-chan. That's right, I knew your parents when they were both a couple of college freshman, just two years before they were married. Eventually he said solemnly, "Yagami-chan, I am very sorry about your loss. He was, your father, a very good officer and an inspiration to us all."

At which point Sayu slipped into routine. Her voice was almost mechanical, having heard those words all too often as of late. "Thank you, sir," she said in return.

And that was that. There was a lapse in conversation that Sayu didn't bother to correct. At one point in her life she would have done anything to fill the silence. Daddy always said I talked too much. Crying and talking. If I wasn't crying, I was talking. I'm so sorry, daddy, for all the times I gave you a headache. I am sorry I was always so bothersome. When the second clerk returned, baring a medium sized box with her father's belongings. Sayu quickly took the item which felt heavy in her arms, weighted down by years and years of memories. Pictures and plagues all tumbled into space. Her father's life summed up in a 3 by 3 cardboard box. With an abrupt good-bye, she walked out the glass doors and into the waning afternoon. Overhead, powdery clouds were stained with a bloody red, the threat of nighttime fast approaching. A fear seized her to be caught outside after dark. If she walked quick enough, she would make it home in time to beat the final rays of sunlight fading behind Tokyo's consuming skyscrapers. Because even in the well lit streets, within the throng of citizens coming and going all around her, Sayu felt nauseous at the thought of traveling alone once the pregnant moon reigned the sky.

"Wait!" Sayu heard the shout but did not turn around, focused only on the task of getting home. But by the second time, she could not ignore the voice. "Sayu-chan, please wait!" The young woman paused in her steps, and in glancing over her shoulder she saw the awkward figure of Matsuda Tota bounding towards her. It surprised Sayu to see him since it had been several months since they had last encountered one another. In fact, at first she did not recognize him under the gauzy bandages hugging his forehead and cheek. And then she remembered what others had told her, Matsuda had been with her father when he was killed. Nobody had told her the details of what had really happened and Sayu was tempted to force Matsuda to tell her everything. She knew, he would. Because even while Light, her own brother had brushed her off, 'trust me Sayu-chan; it's better that you don't know', Sayu knew Matsuda would tell her if she really wanted to find out. But then she abandoned that idea because perhaps Light was right, as he usually was. Maybe it was better that she didn't know.

"Hello, Matsuda-san," she said once he had caught up to her, panting from the sprint, "I didn't realize you would be in the office this evening. Are you doing well?"

He gave a lopsided smile in between heavy breaths, "Oh I am fine, thanks! I was just leaving when I saw you. Were you here to see Light-kun? He hasn't been at the main office in awhile, you know."

Duh, of course I know that, she wanted to snap irritably but withheld her words. Light was for the most part, unreachable these days. And everybody knew that. Tucked away in some godforsaken hideout with the rest of the Kira investigation team, the only time she ever saw him was when he and Misa made one of their infrequent visits. She shook her head, sighing inward. Matsuda was a good guy, she told herself. A very sweet man. It wasn't his fault that he was completely oblivious about certain matters. "Actually, I had just stopping by to pick up my father's stuff," Sayu replied and her arms tightened over the cardboard box, as if to highlight the mission which had brought her out of the house and to the NPA's headquarters.

Suddenly, Matsuda's expression fell as he realized his lapse in judgment. His face flushed an ashamed red; he was all to accustomed to making a fool of himself but how could have overlooked the box in Sayu's arms. It panged him to see he had offended her. Another foot in mouth moment for the rookie-cop. Matsuda, 0. Life, 1. And at once he began to babble out an apology to which Sayu promptly interjected, "It's fine, really Matsuda-san. But you will have to excuse me, okay? I am tired." And indeed she was terribly tired.

As she began to move away, Matsuda followed after without any hesitation, continuing with his apologies. "I'm sorry, Sayu-chan. Honest. Ask anybody, I have a habit of saying the stupidest things at the worse possible time. Aizawa thinks it's because I was dropped on the head as a baby one too many times."

And despite herself a genuine smile betrayed her lips and Sayu gave a small giggle. Matsuda took this as a pleasant sign but still sought to redeem himself. "I hope you won't hate me forever now," he said while offering to take the box from her. At first, Sayu protested but eventually she gave in to his persistency and handed it over.

"No, Matsuda-san. I couldn't possibly hate you forever, you are too nice of a person," Sayu replied. And for the second time, the older man blushed but luckily Sayu didn't notice. She was too busy scanning the streets ahead of them with what seemed to Matsuda to be a very concentrated look. But after awhile, Matsuda was able to divert her attention to a blithe conversation over the new American movies playing in the down-town district.

They continued to walk in pace with one another before Sayu realized she could no longer see the police station behind them. She felt guilty about taking up his time any further; surely he had some place to be that she was keeping him from. And even though she had found herself enjoying the amusement of his company, Sayu was compelled to give him the opportunity to part ways. "You know, you don't have to walk me home, Matsuda-san," she said half-heartedly.

He answered with his best attempt to sound casual and matter-of-fact, "of course I do. Look, see? It's already getting dark and what kind of guy would I be if I let you walk these streets alone?"

She smiled and said, "I guess chivalry isn't dead yet."

"Not as long as Matsuda Tota is around!" He replied happily and they both laughed as he tried to strike a pose.

Sayu didn't want to admit to her own apprehension of walking alone, but she was secretly grateful for Matsuda's presence. Ever since last year's trauma of being held hostage, she was still haunted by the fear of the same incident reoccurring. Still fused with bitterness, those terrorist had stolen her innocence and naiveté; never again could she travel alone at night without trembling at every shadow.

But for the moment, Sayu was distracted from these memories and thoughts of her father. She could tell Matsuda was trying to make up for his earlier mishap and she found it endearing because she didn't know many guys who would make such an effort to redeem themselves.

As they approached the Yagami household, they paused at once on the doorstep, their encounter drawing to its end. Sayu hesitated to take back the box from him because she did not feel ready to face the burden in which it represented. But it was time to slip back into the dreary life of Yagami Sayu and seize the role of the girl still mourning her father's death.

Matsuda opened his mouth to speak but was struck dumb when she began to stare at him. The words balanced on his lips, but on the cusp of asking her out, Sayu took a step up to her home's door and his chance extinguished. "Good night, Matsuda-san. Thank you very much for keeping me company," Sayu said with subdued warmth.

Matsuda flashed a grin and bowed, "no problem! It was my pleasure. And anytime, Sayu-chan. . .Anytime you want to talk, just give me a call okay? Even if it's 3 a.m. or, or . . ."

"Good night Matsuda-san," she repeated with playful exasperation. And despite the grim beginnings of her evening, Sayu felt slightly better having met up with Matsuda. His goofy company had given her confidence, however fleeting, that things would improve. Because after all they always did eventually. It was only a matter of time before she moved on. Because even as Sayu shirked from the night sky's encroaching darkness, she knew that every time the sun sets it is only so a new day could begin in the morning.