five, part 1

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Her heart was beating out of her chest.

    She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she felt anxious, inexplicably uncomfortable and as if she were towered by the dreading sensation of pressing danger.

    5:32 pm.

    Kaira was sitting at her desk under the dim light of her lamp, staring at the grey sky turning black outside. Although the rain had stopped, the thunder had not. Occasional streaks of lightning would light up the city, making her jump in her seat.

    She gave shy, uncertain glimpses to the book resting on her desk, which she now refused to touch further. The moment her skin had come in contact with the cover, she sensed a cold, almost painful shiver run down her spine. It was terrifying; it was a feeling she had never experienced, and it left her lungs feeling like they were running out of air. She didn't know what to do with it; should she look inside? Call Light? Ignore it?

    Curious, she flipped the pages– barely, so that her fingers made as little contact with the book as possible. It was enough to catch a glimpse of scribbles of hundreds if not thousands of hand-written names on the inside.

    Could Light have written these names? Why? Who did they even represent?

    Filled with questions, she grabbed her phone from her bag and opened a web page. Her fingers trembling, she typed a random name she read into the search bar and waited for the page to load, the light of her screen lighting up her worried features. Her jaw dropped, and her eyes widened as the picture of a deceased criminal popped up, but her heart sank when she realized it was a murder linked to Kira.

    She searched name after name, her fingers shaking more and more every time.

    Kira this, Kira that... it was all linked to Kira.

    Was this part of Light's murder case? Was this part of his job in helping the police?

    After having looked up more than fifty names, her hands quivered enough to drop the phone straight to the ground, filling her apartment with the resonating sound of it colliding with the marble floor.

    It went back to silence, leaving place to the thoughts that seemed to be screeching in her mind. She dropped the suddenly heavy weight of her head in her hands as her fingers ran through her hair, trying to make sense of the situation. She couldn't explain it nor come up with any words or conjure any thought; the book felt evil– to the touch, to the eye, but mainly to every damn fibre of her being. As much as Light's ongoing investigation could explain the names, her guts were telling her otherwise.

    She closed her eyes and inhaled, replaying parts of her interaction with Light;

     "How do you think they're doing it?" Kaira asked calmly, not looking away from the inked words.

    "It doesn't matter, does it? They're ridding the country of criminals." He replied just as calmly, crossing his arms over his chest.

    "Strange thing for anyone to decide, don't you think?"

    He smirked, slightly tilting his head and looking down at her, "Well, perhaps Kira isn't just anyone."

    "You seem to have a strange admiration for this Kira." Kaira chuckled, her fingers wrapping around her cup.

    "I admire people who bring justice to this world, no matter the cost."

    This was a coincidence. It had to be. Light's fascination with Kira was simply a distant admiration, one that comes from converging ideologies. One last time, she grabbed the book and opened it to the first page, hoping to find a note, an explanation, anything.

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