#mello and mello fans taking the L once again. hes there for half a second just to die. ...its accurate at least

[lovewillabides]

absolutely uncalled for

EDIT: the effing main menu too...

[secretshinigami]

among friends, knowing foes

Author: @47gaslamps For: @paralllaxes Pairings/Characters: Naomi, the SPK, Mello, Takada, Mogi, implications of Naomi/Gevanni because apparently when I decided not to write for any ship I was confining myself to the ones where the two characters even coexist in canon Rating/Warnings: Rated T, warnings for manga-only aspects and high levels of keikaku Prompt: Naomi being with the SPK (with or without Raye is the author’s choice) Author’s notes: Did not elect to include Raye. An alternate universe in which a) Raye is alive and b) the SPK exists would have had me churning the variables until the end of time like one of those supercomputers in Hitchhiker’s Guide.

In his youthful glory days, it was said that the great detective James McParland had had to train himself, on his life, never to react to the sound of his own name. And so it was with Shoko.

Long before the formation of the SPK, when Shoko (despite her ever-precarious position as an FBI agent) was in effect little more than a crank letter writer to key figures in the Hoope administration – submitting unasked-for analyses of the events surrounding the week- or weeks-long periods known as Kira’s “reposes,” or the latency of Kira’s judgments in regions such as Israel or Ethiopia; continually re-emphasizing the probability that the investigation in Japan was not being conducted by the L she had personally worked with; never sure, until last March when Director Mason approached her in person, that anyone was even bothering to look at the byline – “Naomi Misora” had already become a bland ambient phrase that failed to pique any particular attention even when her own mother used it. And she was not speaking to her mother, of late.

But Shoko Maki, unlike McParland, had the great good fortune to have erased her own name in order to live among allies and friends – even now, in the darkest hour the SPK had ever faced.

They had faced death upon death. They were, if you believed in the weight of presidential executive orders, disbanded. But here they were, alive, still united without a second thought, in a safehouse built small enough that Shoko felt, for the first time, that the five of them could properly breathe.

She had to admire Near’s preparation, she thought, watching Rester unbuckle him from the body armor. Near had thoroughly put her off at first, a boy who put on a hermetically sealed childishness like a permanent costume, whose eyes followed an elusive train of thought as though it were a gnat drifting across the room – the first chance she had to have a private word with the boy, it was unfortunate how little the details of his origins surprised her – but (she could not say this for Mello) Wammy’s House had evidently become more habitable by the time Near was entered into the rolls. He knew his own weaknesses, he genuinely respected the strengths of his colleagues, and he held to a strange honor that Shoko could not quite grasp, but could view with a dim awe.

The way he’d danced about the NPA ever since their “temporary alliance” with Kira, delicately and laboriously circling in and in, going direct for the throat of the matter only because he realized it might be his last communication on earth…

Above all, he prepared in advance: he had kept in reserve a safehouse, and a gallery of heavy-duty masked NYPD suits (enough to outfit all the original SPK, Shoko was sure, though time had been too pressing to make a count), and a vault filled with bales of hundred-dollar bills, and an industrial fan in the penthouse which he’d thought to reserve for the local propagation of vital information, and lacking any of those four elements, the SPK would almost certainly have taken losses, and the most likely loss of all would have been Near.

In that case, they would have been finished. Kira’s reign would be without challenge. Shoko knew that, now – although she imagined she would have been a lot less inclined to know it in the actual event of Near’s death. She didn’t act in rational self-interest. No one did.

As Rester began to bring the backup data bank back to life, she turned her attention back to the hostage, Kanzo Mogi. All she really knew about the man, even now, was his stolid, stubborn loyalty to the second L. The precise nature of that loyalty was not quite a resolved question. But perversely, she found her guard on him more relaxed now than she had before the strike on headquarters.

Shoko entertained no foolish notion that Mogi’s arrival had directly preceded Demegawa’s discovery of their location by sheer happenstance. That would be tantamount to drawing an insurmountable wall between Kira’s right hand and his left. No one of any sense, no one, could make that mistake. Yet if Mogi were loyal to Kira, the luster of that loyalty couldn’t but be dimmed by the knowledge that Kira had considered his life expendable.

But he might, of course, be controlled by Kira. And if not, you couldn’t assume rational self-interest. If Mogi tried anything, Shoko had to be ready for action.

Besides, the more concentration she brought to bear on Mogi, the less she could afford for the man taking guard beside her.

There was no getting around the fact of Stephen Gevanni. Stephen Gevanni, the CIA agent with the indelible trace of an English accent, whose work ethic bloomed into frightening levels of efficiency as it approached the last minute, who had told her that he had chosen to change his name and join the CIA while employed in the booming tech district of Southampton, smiling shyly as though it explained everything (and, with a little consideration for the character of the hardware and software designed there and the proximity of the city to Winchester, Shoko had to admit it explained a lot)…

…but however she got to know him, there was no getting around it: he looked a good deal like an old colleague who had carried a flame for her, a flame that had even been a spark in her own heart for a fleeting moment. A shade of the skin, the slightest shifts in the angles of the eye or the jaw, were all that distinguished his face from that of Raye Penber.

Raye had been a good man, who had always meant what was best for her. But she had soon realized that his conception of what was best – for her or for anyone – was a life fitted, as much as possible, to whatever was safest and most routine. The extraordinary effort sometimes needed to apprehend a suspect, the gratuitous thrill of a motorcycle ride, anything that went either above or beyond the strictest call of duty: these things, in Raye’s eyes, were reducible to the level of needless hazard involved.

In itself, it had been one of those unfortunate and brief flirtations that simply happened in life, a mood that came and went and scarcely left a trace. But in the black ink of the newspaper of that first December, Raye’s mark on her life had been made indelible. He had been a good man. To see his name in the list of the dead was to know, once and for all, what Kira was.

Gevanni was, in reality, very unlike him. Gevanni was far from a fearless man, but he did his utmost in spite of it. He had a secret fondness for frippery, especially in the realm of suits, which he preferred stitched by his own hand. If it came to a fight (whatever they might lead Kanzo Mogi to believe), Gevanni did not stand a chance. And, though he had been nothing but silent on the subject, Shoko was sure that some of his special skills had been refined while on the wrong side of the law.

In short, Stephen Gevanni was admirable and imperfect and compelling, a man who had survived the worst and stood with her shoulder to shoulder as the last bulwark against Kira, and there was a part of her that could not look at his face without thinking how she might mourn his death.

Of the SPK (a phrase precisely equivalent to “of the whole world”, these past few months), only Halle Lidner had heard any of this: some hours after President Sairas’s surrender, these sentiments had spilled over into their regular sparring session. Lidner won so easily she couldn’t but ask why, and Shoko, for her part, couldn’t but tell. For Lidner’s ears only. She did at times ponder, though. Perhaps, should they turn out triumphant…

Shoko shook herself out of the very reverie she had just resolved to avoid, and turned her attention back to Mogi. It was because of him that this silence prevailed around the safehouse, and most particularly the part of the silence that was hers, keeping from the words that most desperately needed to be said.

The words that Lidner, standing in point position beside the door, desperately needed to hear.

To assume rational self-interest was sometimes nothing short of foolish.

—-

It took longer than Shoko expected. But the results with the NPA were well worth the wait, and an hour after they saw Mogi off, and Aizawa, relaxation began to take hold again. Rester and Gevanni would take some time before they could compile for analysis all unique news footage of the trap they had just escaped from, Near had curled to sleep in one of the armchairs, and Shoko found her opening.

She approached Lidner almost casually. Though she would speak nothing but the truth, she had had time to consider her delivery with care.

“This new HQ makes a good change of scene, don’t you think?”

Lidner laughed. “I’m surprised you think so, Maki. Isn’t that motorcycle of yours still in the underground garage?”

In all the excitement, the last thing on her mind was her Kawasaki. But yes, of course it was there. Left to the first looter who might come back and claim it, along with all the other disused vehicles…

“But you think so too, don’t you, Lidner,” said Shoko, glancing toward the ground. “You don’t half expect…” She left the sentence hanging.

“Expect…?”

“To hear Powers babbling every last idea that comes to mind, or Mason holding forth with one of those gusts of authoritative phrases as though he’s really in charge. Or to smell one of Gardner’s furtive cigarettes. You know… all that.”

Lidner did not answer, but did close her eyes as though formulating one.

After a moment, Shoko said: “Mogi’s phone had a GPS tracker. That’s what has to have done it, right?”

Jarred out of her line of thought, Lidner only blinked and said, “Probably.”

“And it didn’t occur to anyone to confiscate his devices on his way to New York,” said Shoko flatly. “Knowing he was working with Kira.”

“The plan required his cell phone,” Lidner reminded her.

“Not necessarily.” Shoko looked her dead in the eye. “Not if Mello could have been in the main data room right along with us.”

“You know that would never happen, Maki,” said Lidner, her voice coming across with much less strength than her face. She was catching on. “Some passcodes are one use only.”

“Yes. We determined it would never happen, because his presence posed a threat. A threat that the SPK could easily neutralize. But he recognized our desire for distance. Near’s desire for reconciliation. And Kira’s desire to eliminate the SPK.”

A long silence.

“And yet,” said Lidner at last, “we’re alive. And in a stronger position than ever before.”

“You think he intended to fail.”

“It was a blow against Kira,” said Lidner, her confidence waxing again. “Mello doesn’t have much in the way of personal resources, these days, but I can guarantee you he would be glad to strike at Kira any way he can.”

Excepting the final strike, of course, if it were done by anyone but himself. There was no need to bother voicing something so obvious, though.

“What do you think are the chances that Kira intended to fail?”

“No chance at all,” agreed Lidner at once, “but Mello had something that Kira lacked.”

Shoko waited for elaboration.

“Ratt’s information.” Lidner, to her credit, offered these words a bit gingerly.

“I don’t suppose he’s told you what that information entailed?” said Shoko coldly. “Apart from the true identities of thirty-four of our colleagues?”

“Of course not,” she snapped. “But I do know that every one of the preparations that saved us was in place when Ratt was still with us. If nothing else, he certainly would have talked about the cash in the vault. And you remember he had access to the vault with the skyscraper’s blueprints?”

Yes. Shoko remembered. But their escape had still been far from a sure thing. “We backed Kira into a corner. Mello benefits. I’ll grant you that. If we were dragged out and exposed to the cameras… that would also benefit Mello.“

“It wouldn’t.”

“No,” agreed Shoko. “But this is a man who literally blew himself up. He’s probably up to figuratively shooting himself in the foot.”

She turned to where Near lay sleeping, curled below the screens where Demegawa screamed silently into Gevanni’s headset that they be given as a sacrifice to Kira, and she looked back on Lidner with pity and compassion.

“Why are you so eager to call him an ally? You tell him all we know about Kira, you block me from tackling him to the ground the instant he lets his guard down, and now you defend him…”

Lidner was matter-of-fact. “If you’d tackled him to the ground, that would have been a blow to his pride he’d never forgive.”

“Considering what a blow to his pride our existence is, I suppose I don’t want to see what it would be like if he didn’t forgive us.”

Lidner sighed, drew herself up an office chair and sat. “Listen, Maki. I do have an answer to your question.”

She paused a moment, and this time, Shoko took time to sit herself, and let Lidner get her thoughts together. If either of them became intransigent now, no good would come of it.

“During the arrest of Kyosuke Higuchi. Near’s source said the two shots that took out Higuchi’s front tire, and blasted the gun from his hand, came from a private helicopter. A helicopter that had been on the scene prior to the arrival of the police blockade.”

Shoko was clearly supposed to grasp something here, but she was lost.

“Well? Don’t you think it was L in that helicopter?”

“I don’t think so, actually,” said Shoko thoughtfully. “You need good posture to fire with that kind of accuracy from a distance.”

“I–” Lidner looked up, flabbergasted. “Are you telling me you know what the original L’s posture was like?”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I met him. Only once, but–”

“What happened?” asked Lidner eagerly.

Shoko flushed dimly, wishing she had a better story. “He attacked me. I kicked him down a flight of stairs. I gather it was supposed to be some sort of test.”

“There!” whispered Lidner (Near had just snorted in his sleep). “That’s just what I mean to say! And the helicopter– if it wasn’t L, it was someone acting on L’s orders. Watari, or… well, it wasn’t anyone involved in the raid on Mello’s fortress, or he would never have had a chance to use the detonator. A crack shot, identity unknown. But that’s not the point. Is that an order Near would ever give?”

“No,” Shoko allowed. “But wasn’t this supposed to be your argument to justify Mello? Mello would just have blown Higuchi’s head clean off.”

“You say that like it would be a problem,” muttered Lidner bitterly. “But– I mean, you’re right. Of course you are. Mello is built to shoot first and ask questions later. But Near– he’s built more like your FBI man. He asks questions, and asks more questions, and only at the very last resort can he bring himself to shoot. If Mello isn’t there to shoot on his behalf, maybe… maybe he won’t see the last resort coming.”

Shoko felt the blood drain from her face, and her hands become vises around her armrests. To dredge up her private confidence about Raye, just for the sake of winning an argument that needed to be lost–

“There’s another possibility,” Shoko said, levelly, as though at a remove from her own body. “With regard to the helicopter. It might have been Kira taking those shots.”

She took a deep and shaking breath.

“We know that, at some point, Kira took L’s place. We know L was dead a week after that arrest. We don’t know how either of these things came to pass, but there is one way it might have come about. L might have found Kira useful. A crack shot, perhaps, and almost certainly a top-notch thinker… and what did it matter that he was a known murderer, if they were aligned in the same cause?”

Lidner stood and turned away, her eyes shut tight. She had no answer.

—-

The rift between Lidner and Shoko, though convenient for their cover, remained, very real, until the arrival of the plastic molding kit.

Rester had suggested (with all due respect, of course, and the edge in the voice that invariably came with the phrase) that all these special-order toys, like Mello’s chocolate trucks, posed a security risk, especially the Lego dolls ordered to resemble Kiyomi Takada and Light Yagami. Near – and Shoko was not sure this was an exaggeration – would sooner die than give up a chance to use toys as visual aids, but the kit was a reasonable compromise.

And so, in the lull before Gevanni’s last big operation, Rester, Halle and Shoko (but not Gevanni; tailing Mikami was always top priority) took one of Takada’s days off to watch Near craft the toys he thought he might need in the coming days. Mostly, what he thought he needed turned out to be soft plastic finger puppets. The SPK and the NPA were a bit caricatured, Near included. Mello, Misa, Takada and Mikami were caricatured to the point of political cartoon. And the portrayal of Kira, in one of Near’s strokes of sheer childish spite, was simply a cut-rate Hamburglar.

“But what on earth is this?” said Shoko, holding up a just-cooled mask in perplexity. It had a round face, blue matted hair, puffy bulging eyes, and weirdly puckered lips. “I can certainly understand wearing a mask to meet the second L, but why this particular mask?”

“I believe it’s a face Light Yagami will recognize.”

Halle Lidner looked from Near to Shoko, and then from Shoko to Near again, with increasing incredulity. “Near. Am I to gather that you have never actually met L?”

Near’s mouth turned up toward a cheek in irritation. “No, actually. I was merely operating on reliable and corroborated description. Pale skin the same color as his lips, dark unkempt hair, large eyes with deep shadows underneath. Is that not all correct?”

“How is it possible that L’s heir never met L?” Shoko demanded.

Near sighed and flopped back-first onto the floor, staring up at the ceiling. “In point of fact, it was because I was L’s heir. To be correct: one of the two. It was maybe a year before the Kira case that he paid a personal visit to Wammy’s House. Everyone went out to meet him, Mello included – it was a bigger event than three Christmases put together – but as for me, I stayed behind. I was sure he would want to speak with me privately, and if not, he would take the extra trouble anyway. Turned out, he was equally stubborn in passively drawing me out. Which made it a losing battle on my part. He left just as scheduled, and I had to get all the details second-hand.”

His eyes rested on Shoko. “But I gather you can set me straight. The records do say you once worked with L.” He rolled back into his regular crouch and smiled in that gooey way that always meant mischief. “All right. Let’s do this properly. But for future reference, Maki, there are some work history details you really ought to mention to your employers.”

Halle laughed.

—-

Taking up half Takada’s personal security detail had seemed like a good idea at the time, but in retrospect it was a waste of limited manpower. Takada was careful enough about her private communications that even her most trusted bodyguards never accompanied her inside her apartment suite; the only thing that proved of interest about her schedule otherwise was that she was always in meetings at one o'clock on Thursdays; and all that remained was to help accost the hostile riffraff a beautiful and politically outspoken celebrity inevitably accumulated.

The riffraff surrounding Miss Takada did not generally survive being accosted.

But her evening escort was mercifully without event, and all that remained was to smilingly endure the nine-o’-clock news. Tomorrow, if Mikami kept writing (Shoko was reminded that she and Halle weren’t the only SPK members complicit in Kira’s crimes at this moment), Gevanni would give the go-ahead to set the meeting. So much had been set in stone, so far in advance, and yet there were loose ends that no one had even considered tying up. Mello, lovingly immortalized though he was as Chucky the Living Doll, was still at large, and even the precise substance of these secret communications with Mikami Teru and Light Yagami…

“Good-evening-miss-takada,” mumbled the receptionist automatically as they passed. Megumi Kato, her name was. The epitome of a seat-warmer. She did what was plainly required of her, and then checked out. Not an option for an attache of Shoko’s prestige, unfortunately. A bodyguard had to take the initiative.

Yes. She did have to take the initiative. And Megumi Kato was her ticket to doing so.

During the evening broadcast, Shoko wrote a hasty notice, and, when she was sure Kato wasn’t really listening, delivered it to her and, without unnecessarily perking her ears by mentioning Takada’s name, told her to be sure to pass it along. By 10:05, the customary “good-night-miss-takada” assured her all was indeed well.

The following evening, with escort duty falling to one of the honest bodyguards, Shoko Maki arrived at Takada’s home alongside Gevanni, who was dressed as a professional locksmith. (Rester could tail Mikami for a day. He couldn’t confirm he was still writing, but that meant only twenty-four more hours before plans solidified beyond repair. Besides, she remembered with a squirm, Shoko’s preparations had really left Near no choice.)

Once inside, just as she had outlined in the note she left with Kato, she set out to make a complete security inventory of Takada’s living quarters. The points of entry (the windows were sealed and bulletproof, but the door, by the very fact that the search could be carried out, needed biometric scanners). The microphones and security cameras (all confirmed as NHN property, but numbered just in case). Any point at which a person might lie in hiding or a bomb might be placed to greatest effect. She’d borrowed Gevanni’s minicamera for documentation purposes. On occasion, she needed to call him over to get another lock. For the benefit of the cameras, she carried herself with brusque efficiency, punctuated only by the occasional comment and the click of the camera.

And when Gevanni unlocked the top left desk drawer and they both saw the sheaf of lined paper coated in names – perhaps she had visibly hesitated, or perhaps time had simply hung suspended for a moment – the photograph was made completely without comment, and the inventory went on.

They re-armed all the locks, proceeded out of the complex, and then out of the building. Shoko took one deep drag of the January air, and suddenly found her head swimming, the grey evening turning dark and green, and she fell to her knees into the brittle dead grass.

“We never did find those hotel notepads,” Gevanni observed wryly, from somewhere high above.

She laughed an unreasonable length over that, and just when she thought it was over, the fit took her again.

At long last she looked up through her tears into the haunting face of Stephen Gevanni. He was visibly sweating, propping himself up against the exterior wall for support.

“Let’s call headquarters,” she suggested.

[jinjojess]

Could you elaborate on what you dislike about Death Note? If you feel like doing it, of course! I always enjoy your unpopular opinions so I would like to hear more about this. I personally liked many aspects of it, but I can also see many flaws, and the second part of the story is way less fun. Also: "Remember how I can't stand characters transparently designed to appeal to a certain kind of fan" PLEASE GO ON. I need a serious critique of the characters!

Oof, I don’t know if I have that in me, but here’s a semi-short version.

Death Note has a lot of objective stumbles, but honestly the thing about it is that it’s very much Not For Me and that’s where I have the most issues.

Spoilers for the entire series, just in case.

Edit: This got really fucking long, I’m so sorry mobile users…

Note: This will be manga-based since I read the entire manga, but have only seen a few of the anime episodes.

So I was very on board with the series in the early chapters of the manga, because I liked how it was exploring the way that Light starts off as this really eager do-gooder who gets corrupted by power. In the early chapters he looks younger and adorable, and you can see a physical change in the way he carries and presents himself as he becomes more Kira than Light. Loved the idea of presenting a protagonist and then turning him into the villain and testing the reader to see if they would still side with him or not. That was cool.

I probably would have enjoyed his rivalry with L more if I didn’t find L so personally obnoxious. A lot of people like him (to the point where I feel like I am the sole dissenter) and I don’t think he’s necessarily the worst character, but just like…I dunno. Something about him and the way he’s treated in the series just feels so…I don’t know how to put this…wish fulfillment-y? Like he’s this dude who really shouldn’t be attractive because he’s gaunt and pale and clearly doesn’t take care of himself at all, plus he’s got all these nervous tics that would probably be at best politely tolerated while everyone talks about how awkward he is behind his back but like…I don’t remember that ever happening really.

Like if the police force were like “Jesus, dude, just sit like a normal human being for once,” I’d have found him more believable as an actual character instead of this guy conspicuously being weird to show off how “different” and “special” he is. Plus he’s also athletic, despite not ever being shown practicing or going to the gym or anything–he’s just super good at martial arts and a tennis champ, guys. Like sorry, but for those of us in the real world, we have to adhere to social codes and actually work for that kind of shit, and while some people find comfort in this sort of idealized escapism, it’s always just pissed me off from a personal standpoint.

Basically L feels like he was created to appeal to socially awkward fangirls who could squee over him and be like “he’s weird and socially awkward just like me! but everyone would be jealous of me if he was my boyfriend because unlike me everyone loves him!” Which in and of itself is not inherently Bad or anything, but it gives me a sense of unbearable second-hand embarrassment so I just cannot deal with that.

Let me be clear here: those kinds of fangirls completely deserve to have media aimed at them, and Death Note fills that niche pretty well. Again, this complaint is from a place of personal preference, and is just to get you to understand why Death Note turned out to not really be my cup of tea.

(Plus also where is the storyline where L gains weight or gets type 2 diabetes from surviving on sweets? Oh, it’s because his brain burns too many calories. Fuck that guy.)

Misa is similar in that she’s basically Yamato Nadeshiko: Goth Edition and that just ain’t my thing. Like don’t get me wrong–I love me some tragically loyal people, but I usually prefer that they also be capable in some other way (Pekoyama can swordfight like a badass, Sakakura is a world-class boxer, Mukuro is…well, Mukuro, etc.). MisaMisa is kind of a fuck up. Plus iirc she’s an idol and sorry, if you are not part of Maizono’s posse I have zero time for you.

Anyway, the fact that the reader is supposed to feel less sympathy for Light because of his treatment of Misa is interesting, but it’s kind of clouded by the fact that Misa is so annoying to me personally that I just wanted her to fucking die already and get out of the narrative. Rem, you are too good for this shit.

I did find the police force itself pretty charming, though. I was rooting for them for most of the story.

Ryuk was great too. A nice provider of very needed levity, and probably the most consistently good point of the series, at least until the very end which I’ll get into in a second.

Anyway, the more technical issues I have with Death Note are with its pointless meandering. There’s that famous tennis scene where it’s supposed to be really exciting because Light and L are trying to figure each other’s psychology out, but the things they’re thinking aren’t at all realistic. Like trying to win a tennis match proves you’re competitive ergo you must be Kira? What? It’s overthinking very mundane things that would have too many variables to ever be conclusive proof of anything, and it turns out to be pointless since they both reach that conclusion at the end of the game anyway.

So yeah, my biggest issue with Death Note was that it wasted so much of my time. It feels a little like the V3 trials, where you’d be purposefully led down this boring, clearly incorrect route so that the reader could be “surprised” when it turned out that something could be Occam’s Razor’d. There are entire volumes where nothing happens. And I don’t mean like, nothing physically happens, but the characters are having intense debates or whatever. I remember reading volumes where only two real conversations were had, and the rest of the time was everyone imagining and mentally preparing for said conversations.

Maybe my memory of the series is too patchy, since I read the manga over a decade ago in 2005, but I remember a LOT of padding.

Something I did think was handled well was how Light defeats L. That was pretty great because at heart I do love super smart villains with stupidly complicated plans, and that one was pretty great, especially since I figured that L wouldn’t be going anywhere.

However, the series should have ended here. It should have ended with Kira winning out over L, but the law being closer to figuring out who Kira is, leaving the reader in a state of uncertainty about the future of this world and Light as a character.

Would that have wrapped up all the loose ends? No. But it would be way better than what we got in the second half of the series, I think most people would agree.

So let’s talk for a second about Near and Mello.

To touch again on the “this was clearly for a certain kind of fan” subject, how hard do you think the publishers shit themselves when they realized that L was going to die but the series wasn’t over? L was and still is by far the most popular character from the series, and the fangirls were probably not going to be pleased that their husbando got ejected from the narrative.

So what do we do?

Replace him with more of the same!

While L was annoyingly teetering on Gary Studom, Near is basically that just with an added dose of “precocious child” which doesn’t really help the situation. I hesitate to call him Shouta L, even if that’s how it feels sometimes, but I just felt like Near was way too similar to L to be his own character. He felt more like L was reborn as a kid for the Death Note Babies spin-off.

Mello was a lot more interesting, with the inferiority complex and his tendency to, you know, actually do things. The only part of the latter half of the series I remember liking was when Mello kidnapped Light’s sister and there was this tiny glimmer of humanity left in him where he didn’t want her to die. However this was always offset for me by the fact that he was running around with an exposed midriff because yeah we need to have fanservice somewhere man. (Again, not inherently Bad and fangirls deserve their fanservice too, but like…not my thing, at all.) It just felt very…calculated, if that makes sense.

What would have been way more interesting to me would be Light finding out about these orphans being groomed to take over for L and there being some kind of commentary on how the side of “good” is using these really dubious and unethical methods to catch Kira, bringing up the question of whether or not they’re actually any better. Like let’s talk about that.

Okay so. The only thing left to talk about is the ending. And holy shit, that fucking ending.

I was still trying to be on board with Death Note even in the second half where I had very little desire to finish it but felt like I’d already invested the time and money so I might as well. I was trying so damn hard, and I was still kind of enjoying the ridiculous lengths Kira was going to get a one-up on his pursuers, with the fake out girlfriends and the cult, and the fucking pieces of Death Note pages inside the secret compartment of his watch and shit…it was so dumb but in like a fun way.

And to be clear, I’m fine with Light losing in the end, and being undone by his own hubris.

But to only have it happen because Ryuk decides to conveniently help the police? Like, that’s dumb. The entire thing hinges on Ryuk deciding at that very moment to fuck Light over–sure, whatever, he’s not on a side, sure. I don’t expect him to actually pull a Rem, but he must have fucking known that the lackey’s book was fake (who, by the way, should have planned to do away with everyone one at a time, using the power to determine how people die to make it look like an accident, and then he would have noticed that his notebook wasn’t a real one). At least hint toward Ryuk getting fed up, or bored, or something so that this doesn’t seem so frustratingly convenient.

Though Ohba apparently once said that L was the smartest character because “the plot needs him to be” so there you go. That’s his approach. Plot contrivances are the order of the day.

So yeah, anyway.

That’s why I’m not that fond of Death Note. Part of it is because of personal biases against certain kinds of characters that are not appealing to me, and part of it is because the entire story feels like it’s taking itself too seriously and is trying to be more clever than it is. As a more compact narrative I think it would probably get a pass, but the fact that it’s so bloated and sprawling really makes it hard for me to consider it objectively good.

…Turns out I did have it in me.

[swipestream]

SUPERVERSIVE: Even “Death Note” Needs a Hero

So I wasn’t going to do another post on “Death Note” – and I can promise you this will be the final one – but I decided on this topic because I realized that the flaws actually had a lot to do with the superversive philosophy. So I think this will be instructive even for people who aren’t necessarily fans of the franchise.

“Death Note” is basically two different animes with one title (as usual, this is my catch-all for both the anime and the manga, though in this case there are actually some instructive differences). The first half is an absolute masterpiece of concept, characterization, and (particularly) plotting, with multiple iconic moments and a level of consistent suspense that would make Alfred Hitchcock turn green with envy.

The second half is…meh.

I am sure fans of the franchise know where I’m going with this, and it’s really impossible to avoid spoilers if I’m going to discuss it. If you haven’t seen the show yet, do so before you read ahead.

…

…

Ready?

All right, let’s do this.

The death of L was the end of the franchise’s golden run. What happened is actually fairly common, and I’ve seen it before. The franchise decided it was going to go with a totally unexpected, game-changing move in order ratchet up the suspense and surprise people. “Sherlock” did the same thing in “The Reichenbach Fall”, and “Justified” did the same thing in the season 4 finale, “Ghosts”.

In all three cases, the actual episode was brilliant; for all of “Sherlock’s” flaws “The Reichenbach Fall” is the best episode of television I’ve ever seen. Yet in all three cases, there was a problem: the writers had no idea where to go from there. (“Breaking Bad” actually made this sort of thing its stock in trade; one of the main selling points of the show is that the writers would pull these sorts of massive game-changers constantly and follow the consequences to their logical and often brutal conclusions.)

In “Justified’s” case, they frantically tried to ratchet things back to the status quo, resulting in a mostly entertaining but sloppy season 5, and the show never fully righted itself until season 6. “Sherlock” did the same thing (twice, in fact), and even more sloppily; unlike “Justified” it never fully recovered despite a couple of good outlier episodes stuck between some real disasters.

“Death Note” is an interesting case. While it did accept and work with its new status quo, this caused a different problem: The new status quo simply wasn’t as interesting as the old one.

The problem with killing off L is that L was the hero. The writers put a hell of a lot of work and thought into L. After the Lind L. Taylor scene, we’re already impressed with him (Light’s “This could have been interesting if you were just a little smarter” is a great line). We watch as Light alters his actions in an attempt to throw L off his trail, and how L figures things out and reacts accordingly. We meet him, see his habits, his personality, the way he moves and thinks and eats. We see him take enormous risks and watch as he very carefully and slowly, but inexorably, tightens his net around Kira.

And we watch him die. We watch him lose.

This was a great episode…and this was where Death Note lost people. Because it lead to a lot of problems.

You see, everyone wanted L to win. And when L dies, we cut to…4 years later.

4 years later? So it was all for nothing? His work went nowhere?

And then we’re introduced to Near and Mello, or as I like to call them, punchable L and crazy L.

Near is left, Light is center, Mello is right

Near and Mello are introduced to us as L’s successors, but everything about them falls flat. Near is – and I don’t know how else to put this – just a terrible character. He looks and acts like L, except that he doesn’t do anything. L was active, he took risks, he threw himself directly into an epic mental battle with Kira. L put absolutely everything on the line. Near just sits there and works out stuff through a computer, then acts all cocky about it. He’s like L if L was lame.

Mello is actually, in his own way, an interesting character, but the way he’s used is just terrible. He’s supposed to be the “active” side of L in contrast to Near’s “intellectual” side, but the writers use him as a plot device who occasionally shows up, wreaks havoc, then completely disappears for long stretches of time. What is he doing? How is he running his own investigation? We don’t know and don’t get any explanations for silly things like him getting access to an actual missile. And he’d be a somewhat sympathetic antihero (though not nearly enough to make up for L’s death) if we didn’t see him straight up murder almost the entirety of Near’s task force for no reason other than spite.

The idea the creators had was to make Near and Mello the two different halves of L – Near being the intellectual half and Mello being the half that moves and take action. But this leads to two other problems.

First, splitting L into two halves does nothing but create two distinctly unlikable characters. If L doesn’t make moves and take risks, we don’t respect him, thus Near. And if L is a maniac who acts impulsively and murders people out of spite we don’t like him, thus Mello. You’re sacrificing one great character for two weak ones.

Second, if you’re going to use two “halves” of L solve the mystery anyway…why did you kill off L at all? Why not just use L?

The obvious answer to “How could you have L win the game without making it appear too easy?” is a simple but effective one: L wins, but sacrifices his life to do so. Thus the victory is accomplished with the proper sacrifice. The second Death Note Japanese movie actually accomplishes this in a suitably clever way, and I’d say – hesitatingly – that if it was extended a bit it would probably be superior to the way the anime/manga ended.

There is even a way Near and Mello could have worked. Flash forwarding to four years later was a mistake. It cements the fact that L lost, and again, people need a hero to root for or “Death Note” becomes unpalatable, coasting along solely on the fact that we want the maniac Light to die. And there’s really no way to go through a new investigation without rehashing things we already went through in the first half of the anime. The only way to avoid that is for the plot to become increasingly outlandish and ridiculous. The first half of the anime is expertly plotted. It has nearly no exploitable holes, and any that you can find are so subtle that the odds you’ll even notice them the first time around are extremely low. The second half is so woolly I’m still not entirely convinced the ending even make sense.

For Near and Mello to work, they need to be an extension of L. Once again – L can’t lose. This is very different from saying L can’t DIE. L can definitely die, so long as HIS plan and HIS work leads to Kira’s ultimate defeat. So here’s an idea:

One of my only issues with the first half of the anime is the reaction of the anti-Kira task force following L’s death. L dies IMMEDIATELY after saying he believes the 13 day rule – the rule that if a Death Note is not used for 13 days, the owner will die – is fake. And the shinigami Rem disappears directly after L’s death. So why does the task force not investigate this idea further?

The answer I THINK the anime is trying to get you to buy is that they are starting to believe that L is fixated on Light – that he has been proven conclusively innocent but L refuses to let the idea go. This is the tragedy of L – he KNOWS Light is Kira, but nobody believes him, so it’s clear in the final episode that he knows he’s living on borrowed time: Kira has no reason to keep him alive anymore. He’s been completely cleared. Hence L’s impatience when he realizes he’s hit upon the crucial clue that will unravel the whole thing but the task force is unwilling to test it.

So what if we see L secretly contact Near and Mello before his death, tell them he’s going to die soon, but that the 13 day rule is fake? Then immediately after L’s death we don’t flash forward to four years later but instead see Near and Mello DIRECTLY advancing L’s work, and it is L’s final deductions, and his secret hand-off to Near and Mello, unbeknownst to Light, that ultimately leads to Light’s downfall. If we do this it allows us to more properly accept Near and Mello as true successors and to see L as the ultimate winner of the game, providing the necessary closure to his story – because ending it with his death and the unraveling of all his work is the opposite of closure. It’s moving back to square one. We can hit home even more L’s current involvement in the story if we see Near and Mello having “conversations” with their image of L inside of their head, which allows us to see L’s continued impact even more clearly.

This is speculation, of course, though I think it could work; I’d imagine it would be more simple just to end the whole thing with the end of L’s story.

So that’s my diagnosis: For “Death Note” to work you need a hero, a man to root for, because without that the story is no longer satisfying to watch. If you don’t care about any of the people Light is facing off against, why do you care if Light wins? “Death Note” managed to coast along to its finale on the strength of the promise of Light’s downfall, and even then only barely.

One last thing: I will note that the final two episodes, where L and Near finally have their stand-off, are immensely satisfying, though I must admit to strongly preferring the ending of the manga to the anime. Light doesn’t deserve dignity in death; he deserves to beg. But both versions work fairly well.

To close out my “Death Note” series, I leave you with this surprisingly awesome song from the surprisingly awesome “Death Note” musical; skip to a 1:25 to see the real fun start.

SUPERVERSIVE: Even “Death Note” Needs a Hero published first on http://ift.tt/2zdiasi