Jeez, Lord knows how long I've been gone! XD Last time I wrote on here was in my freshman year, and now I'm a junior…
(Man, it's been awhile… sorry about that, guys. And this isn't even remotely related to FFVII:AC at all!)
Well, let me explain, then. In my absence, I've managed to grow to love J-Rock music even more, and I went to this anime con, but I didn't get to shout for my love of the Naruto dub. sobs I was hoping to get jumped… lol!
Moving on, this lovely little DeathNote fanfiction was spawned while I was reading the first volume one night.
(Oh, the things two weeks of not talking to my friends can make me do!)
I figured I'd put it up here, since my friends wanna read it anyway.
Happy reading!
-- B. K. Siver
FYI: This part of the story takes place in 1999, in other words, circa pre-Kira.
"Vailant," the child heard his step-mother call, "Don't forget your lunch!"
Immediately, the thirteen-year-old boy ran back to his house. "Thanks, Pamela!" he gasped as he ran out the door.
"Man, I'm running late again!" he cursed to himself as he ran through his route towards school.
Valiant Dawson was a good student in school. Not exactly the smartest child, but not the dumbest. His grades were a lot higher than most boys his age.
That was the reason why he got picked on a lot. It was also the reason why he tried to get to school as late as possible without being bullied on the way to school.
Being thirteen, a pivotal age for boys and relationships, he had never had a girlfriend, nor had he had many friends in the first place. The other boys in his class teased him because of his book-smart mind while the girls shied away from him because he would always get awkward towards them.
This didn't mean that he was the loner kid in class. In fact, he was very sociable while in class.
He had what he called his "Trump Card:" his step-mother.
Valiant's home consists of his father, his step-mother, and his fifteen-year-old brother. While his father, William Dawson, highly favored his athletic older son, Robert, his step-mother favored him. His dad would always say how Valiant doesn't get out enough to grow some muscle, unlike his brother, who was
involved in most every sport imaginable. The criticism didn't come any easier while his brother continued wherever their dad left off.
Pamela, though, adored Valiant. She had been his mother since he was five, and once told him that he was destined to be someone significant because of his name: "brave."
As long as he had Pamela's adoration, Valiant could care less what others thought of him. He figured he should get along well if he had someone's love.
"Hey, Dawson!" one of his classmates shouted, "Head's up!"
Before Valiant could take any defense, his head was hit hard with a red kickball, leaving a criss-cross pattern on the left side of his face. "Ow…" he sighed with grief.
"You're out!" the kid chuckled.
As if I was playing anyway, the blonde-haired child thought angrily to himself.
His day would end the same way, too: Coming home late. If he happened to not get bullied on his way home from school, he would always come home later than the other kids because he would always find alternate routes to take.
However, today was different for him.
As if it were supposed to happen, a black notebook landed in his hands, and, as though he were expecting something special or extraordinary (it did fall out of the sky, after all), he opened it.
There was nothing extraordinary about it. No writing in it, no title in it, nothing.
The blonde had a huge "WTF?" moment when he found it to simply be a normal, black notebook.
"Well, I've been needing a new notebook for school…" he mumbled to himself, "I guess I won't argue with this; It is free… " He couldn't help but wonder how the notebook fell into his hands, seeing as he wasn't near any buildings.
A week had passed since he had used the notebook for school. While it appeared to be normal, he couldn't help but feel odd about it. He had been thinking so much about it, his focus in school seemed to be slacking.
Just then, he heard a high-pitched whisper.
"Are you Valiant Dawson?" he heard.
When he found the owner of the voice, he gave a mix between a gasp and a scream. It belonged to a creature that seemed to resemble an armadillo, but it had horns, spikes, wings, and it was also constructed completely of bone.
His teacher didn't see the being. Instead, she scolded her student. "Mr. Dawson!" she shouted, "Is there a problem?"
How can she not see that thing?! he thought to himself in amazement.
"Don't worry," the creature assured, "Only you can see me."
Valiant tried to regain control of himself. "Um," was all he could reply a first, "No, everything is fine, ma'am."
"What was with the shouting, then?"
The blonde tried to think of something believable on the spot. "I… I saw a bee, ma'am. It scared me," he replied.
The whole class laughed at him in response.
"Well, Valiant," his teacher said, "Try to control your apiphobia, please. The windows are closed, after all."
He blushed with embarrassment. "Yes, ma'am," he replied obediently.
As his teacher continued with her lesson, Valiant began to have a conversation with the creature that had appeared before him by writing down on his notebook.
What are you? he wrote.
"My name is Nelme!" the being cheered.
That doesn't answer my question, Nelme. What are you?
"I'm… not from this world," it would only answer.
Why are you here?
"Well…" Nelme began, "I, um… kinda wanted a friend."
What?!
"I saw that you were getting picked on in this world," Nelme immediately began to explain, "And I get picked on ALL THE TIME in my world, so I figured we could be friends…"
Valiant thought to himself what kind of world that Nelme lived in in order to be teased as badly as he was. What's the catch? he wrote.
The male Death God looked at the note. "Catch?" he asked.
Fine print, was all Valiant wrote in response.
"Well…" Nelme sighed, "You have to keep the notebook. If you don't want to, though, then you can give it back…"
The Death God looked as though he were about to cry.
Valiant sighed quietly to himself. No, I'll keep it. I need a friend anyway.
Nelme suddenly had a look that would express joy. "Really?!" he exclaimed happily, "Oh, Valiant, you won't regret this! I'll prove that Death Gods like me don't bring misfortune!"
The moment Nelme had said that, Valiant wondered just what the heck he had gotten himself into.
Is that the correct way to use "shy" in its past tense? I'm not sure…
The grammar check says that the way I'm using it is wrong, but when it corrects it, it sounds even funkier. Someone please tell me if I'm right if the computer is telling me I'm wee-tah-did.
Author's Note: Nelme is called a "Death God" because this story takes place in the United States. Where, I'm still deciding, but I'm siding with CA because… well… I dunno, but it seems to fit well. I guess. If you have any suggestions, you can leave it in a message or a review, but either or will do, but that's only if you have to. Also, I won't beg and plead for a review, since, this IS DeathNote after all, and it'll be reviewed eventually because DN is quite popular nowadays.
Ugh… now I gotta go because my stomach hurts right now and Dorian wants me to lay down with him.
(I love that kid! )
Anyway, until the next chapter, whenever that may be(probably sometime tomorrow or the next day, whichever suits my fancy). Also, the title may change since I can't think of anything else right now.
Also, I didn't realize that this kinda sounds familiar with the pilot chapter of DeathNote. I didn't read it until AFTER I bought How to Read 13. Sorry about that, guys,. And my friend told me that in fanfictions like these, the notebook usually falls into someone's hands. Damn you, cliches! I promise this will be different enough. I hope. nervous laugh
Until then,
-- B. K. Siver