AUTHOR'S FORENOTE: This is a story entirely of my own creation, but all characters, to some degree, belong to the creators of the Death Note series. I had started it with another account, but have since forgotten the password. Additionally, my writing was substandard at that time. I hope you are able to enjoy reading this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. However, I do ask that you keep in mind that these characters may not be true to the manga or anime depictions, as I like to give them multiple layers. As a result, time and ageing may be incorrect, and, frankly, I don't give a damn. I wouldn't want to read about an eight year old orphan feeling suicidal and having homosexual urges, as that is extremely inappropriate. Fourteen, although it may seem young, is more fitting, as I, myself, experienced similar topics, aside from the homosexuality, and recovered from them around the age of twelve. If this mature content offends you, please click on the tiny inverted arrow at the top of the page and proceed with your life. Right now. BUT if you stick around long enough to read my story, please leave a comment telling me your thoughts. All thoughts are welcome, and I greatly appreciate them. If you have a question, leave that too, and I'll get back to you. Thank you and let the reading begin!

"I can't do this, Edmund," a blonde woman, around the age of twenty-five stated, "I'm just not ready."

"Just shut up already," the man named Edmund said with a regal voice, ever so slightly hinting at his annoyance.

"It's a life change."

"Alicia, we'll get more maids— a nanny, even. Besides, he'll take on the family business when he's older."

"Edmund, I'm serious. I'll go crazy. A baby is—"

Slap.

Edmund River lashed out at his young wife with a harsh hand. No tears emerged from the woman's made up face, though she stumbled backwards, placing aristocratic fingers on the reddening skin. Her mouth remained slack, not unlike a carp, but not one word escaped. Only shaky, shallow breathing filled the silent room, echoed by a much stronger, much more ardent breath.

"Let's go home, Alicia," Edmund stated, placing his top hat atop his salt and pepper hair, stiff from a morning gel regimen, "Sebastian— have the chauffeur bring the limo around to the front."

"Right away, Master River," Sebastian, their loyal butler, replied.

One of their maids gathered Alicia River's belongings while another collected their newly born son, who was pink and soft like a lamb.

The family rode off towards the Lillian Estate, named after Edmund's great grandmother. Contrary to what the name would imply, the River family's wealth was not particularly old. In fact, the entirety of the funds came from Edmund River's term as the family head. Raised in a small, impoverished urban environment, Edmund was accustomed to criminal activity by a very young age. While many brought up in similar settings shun such a lifestyle to become respectable adults, Edmund River chose to continue this way of life until his dying breath.

A frequent drug user, a raging alcoholic, and not a stranger to domestic abuse, the thirty-seven year old tyrant was the head of a crime organisation specialising in human trafficking. While Alicia River, née Rolfe, seemed to be a victim of this man, she willingly helped him in this crime by luring young men into her home, where they were seized by burly men, and never heard from again.

Alicia, unlike Edmund, was born into an affluent family, she was written out of the will when she turned to the profession of prostitution. Craving the wealth she once had, she married one of her more frequent patrons, by ensuring him with a male heir. She had planned to put said male heir up for adoption immediately after birth, only to tell Edmund that he did not make it. Unfortunately, Edmund partook in the birth itself, observing, firsthand, the first cries of the white-haired newborn.

It comes to the attention of any unseen observer, however, that Edmund and Alicia River are not fit parents. Quite frequently, little Nate received beatings from his parents that were unfamiliar to other children his age. In actuality, they would have been appropriate for criminals of the worse kind.

These beatings were unjust and cruel. The River family maintained an extremely professional image, and extended this image to their youngest member. Toys were banned in the Lillian Estate, as were sweets, tears, and small, fluffy animals. Near was subjected to an extremely demanding schedule and was punished brutally— by means of flying fists to hot-iron branding— should he be off by the slightest second.