Summary: Matsuda, a 26-year-old journalist, stumbles upon a box of letters. All the letters were dated from a decade ago, and all were written by the same person for one person; L to Light. Matsuda reads the letters and becomes more involved with the history of this estranged couple's tragedy.
I'm a shameless addict. A new story, and I haven't started on the new chapter for T.S.F.L.
Inspired by a book with the same title by Jojo Moyes. I have not read the book yet though; I was flipping through pages in a magazine and saw a summary for this book:
A sophisticated, page-turning double tale of love spanning 40 years, The Last Letter From Your Lover is about a journalist named Ellie who discovers an enigmatic letter in a forgotten file in her newspaper's archives. She becomes obsessed by the story and hopeful that it can resurrect her faltering career. A spellbinding, intoxicating love story with a knockout ending.
Like I said, I only read the above summary and not the story, so my fic will be different. I altered the characters' ages too. You don't really have to know what age they are, or you can calculate the ages by looking at the dates on the letters.
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. Hah! Take that, sneaky-weaky lawyers! You cannot catch me~! Nah-nanny-poo-poo! Yeah, I'm childish. And this disclaimer is for all chapters! :)
Edit: I experienced some technical problems so I had to repost this fic... O.o
Chapter 1. Box of Letters
"Matsuda-san! I'm sorry, but could you work overtime for today? We have a lot to do and we don't have enough workers!"
"Matsuda! Where's my coffee?"
"Touta-kun, are you done with the draft?"
Matsuda Touta's head was spinning with all the information crammed inside his head. Sure, it was all from early this morning, and it was now 10 p.m. in the evening, but he was still stressed with his job.
"Stupid colleagues, stupid manager, stupid company!" Matsuda pouted.
His table was overflowing with stacks of papers that needed to be proofread. He still had a number of drafts due by next week. Matsuda's eyes flickered sleepily, and he banged his head onto the keyboard.
INFORMATION DELETED
"What the-" He was now wide awake, and tried frantically to retain back the lost document. As his attempts proved to be futile, Matsuda cursed his life, "Damn! My life sucks!"
He got up from his seat reluctantly and staggered towards the storage room, where all the documents were kept.
The storage room was huge, yet, it seemed claustrophobic because of all the metal shelves covering the walls and floors. Matsuda flailed his hands around, searching for a switch for the light. A measly light bulb dangling precariously from a piece of wire flickered on.
It brightened the room somewhat with an eerie, low orange glow. Matsuda scanned the labels on the boxes, searching for his desired document.
"Found it!" he exclaimed gleefully and pulled the box out. After retrieving a fat, dusty folder from the box, he attempted to place it back to its original spot. Matsuda was on tiptoes, pushing the box on its space. He succeeded and turned towards the exit to return to his office when he tripped on the fat folder he left on the floor.
Dusty boxes fell onto the floor and the storage room became hazier. Matsuda coughed and hacked, trying to get rid of the dust particles in his eyes. Sighing dramatically, he assembled the boxes to their places. An unmarked white box attracted his attention.
Picking it up, Matsuda searched it for any type of markings. He came up with zero clues. He was about to shove into any empty space he could spot, when a strange feeling washed over him.
Oh, what the hell. It's just a box. Hardly anyone goes into the storage room to check for anything missing anyways. And so, Matsuda picked up both the box and the nearly-forgotten fat folder from the floor and headed towards the exit.
Scribble, scribble, scribble.
Tap, tap, clickety-clack.
Tick, tick, tock.
Matsuda continued scribbling and typing as the clock ticked away the seconds. Every once in a while, he would look up and glance at the box. Shaking his head out of his reverie, he would then return to his work.
Finally, he could not take the suspense anymore. Matsuda shoved papers away from his table and settled the box over the empty space. He took out a penknife and slit it through the scotch tape.
As the folded parts of the box were unfurled, Matsuda's eyed widened in surprise. And he regretted widening said eyes almost immediately. Dust particles floated up and entered his naked eyes, causing them to water. He very nearly sneezed, but managed to control himself.
Matsuda waved off the dust and observed the contents of the box. Heaps of letters were haphazardly kept inside. His curiosity rekindled, Matsuda gingerly took out the letters and neatly stacked them together. He read the dates written on the envelopes, and was perplexed to see that they were dated from around a decade ago.
He separated the envelopes and arranged them again, this time according to the dates written on the paper. Amidst the rearranging of old, crinkly envelopes, Matsuda noticed that all the letters were sent from the same person and addressed to another person.
This L person must be really dedicated to Light. All these letters are addressed to Light, Matsuda wondered.
A neat stack of envelopes was tidily tied together with a rubber band. Matsuda, satisfied with his job done well, took out the first letter and began to read.
Reviews are like ice to me! Not ice as in drugs, but ice as in crunchy cold ice. I am addicted to ice for some reason. XD But I'm not alone. My 2nd big bro and youngest sis likes ice too!