(fanfiction) Deathnote: Dexter Morgan Goes to Japan

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The pale moon just outside the airplane window beckons me, compels me now, again, to that different kind of hunger. I tell myself it will be just a few minutes more until landing. But who am I kidding? A few minutes more and I will land on unfamiliar ground. Too risky to give in to my dark passenger. Besides I am without my tools. The hunger must wait.

Japan to me is an exotic place of rare fish delicacies and rich cultural history. Some laden with beauty, others soaked in blood. But for no mater how interesting it may be for an average tourist, it is being outside of my comfort zone I feel most vulnerable. I would not have come if not for Mazuka convincing Sergeant Batista I needed my vacation paid through attending the latest international conference for crime scene analysts. I was preoccupied looking at the moon, my pale companion, when Mazuka suddenly leans over me to look loutside, "Ah, ain't she a beauty?"

"Yes it is," I replied with feint excitement. Truth to tell, I never liked traveling; or worse, being too far from my territory.

"You know what your problem is, Dex? You really have got to develop your sense of adventure."

"And this is you saying you've done this before?"

"Shit no. It's also my first time traveling here. But I do know most of my relatives. Hey, if we have time...."

"Maybe," I,said abruptly, "But isn't this supposed to be an official trip?"

"Yeah well it's not like we won't get any off days. Besides," he lies back again to his seat, "the conferences don't usually take all day."

The rest of the flight was pleasing enough and as the plane landed. Outside by the tarmac looked a bit colder than usual. It took us about a few minutes to find our well-written names held high on small placards amidst the busy arrivals area.

Three men waited for us patiently to come near. One of them looked quite big for a Japanese.

"You must be Mr. Mazuka and Mr. Morgan," the big guy greeted with a smile, "Welcome to Japan. I am Inspector Yozen. Please, come, your accommodations await you."

Somehow, there was something odd about this and Mazuka should have sensed it too. Why would the National Police Agency go out of their way to escort us with plain clothes men? From what I heard from another colleague who's also coming in for the conferences, he took a cab to the assigned hotel from the airport. At least for Mazuka, the welcoming committee was a pleasing surprise.

"Never knew we're that important," he later whispered as the rest of our escort were out of earshot, "I guess this is how they treat all delegates, right?"


Or this isn't what it seems to be.

I LOOKED OUTSIDE the window while in the car. I can't believe how crowded Japan is. It was very unlike the postcards and pictures of Mazuka's relatives that he kept on showing me. The pictures looked serene with it's majestic backdrops of rolling, misty hillsides and worn down huts.  

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