Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note

Author's Note: This is my very first Death Note Fan-Fiction ever. And I must admit, the title came out a bit . . . morbid, don't you think? But I must come out clean. The prologue is giving me problems, seeing that introducing characters has never been one of my fortes . . . that and the fact that my brain has going into a depressing void of writer's block. So if the beginning sounds a bit confusing to you, it should be clarified in the later chapters. Oh and I'm using both the manga and the anime as references, so there may be some places here and there that might not sound right-- I tweaked some things but a bit. As for the story, I'm making a good first portion of it take place from L's death to some time later.

But I do hope you enjoy it. :)


Prologue

December 2004

The fragile crystalline structures seemed endless in the ashen sky. Flurry upon flurry, each delicate snowflake floated gracefully down to rest on the earth's unforgiving grounds; they were like the soft flower petals of a cherry tree, each seemed to have a fragile beauty-- a beauty which could be ended by the smallest of breaths.

Winter.

It was an unforgiving season. It was a season of death; yet it doubled as a season of rebirth. Ice glistened, caked around the bare tree branches, making even the tallest of the wooden figures tremble in the wind. Dead leaves seemed to dance in the wind; the finale of a final Sonata. There was no cry for mercy-- God's divine judgment had already been established.

There would be no clemency beneath these clouds of gray.

Somewhere in the distance, a clock struck twelve. Twelve steady chimes- death plagued the air. As the last of the melancholy echoes reverberated in the afternoon air, the air was still once more.

But alas, there is no such a thing called harmony in the world; and thus, the silence was broken once again . . .

--

"What was that? Roger, what did you just say?!"

Disbelief. Pure utter disbelief plagued the teen's features as he continued to struggle to get a grasp on what exactly he had just been told. The news came to him as if he had just crashed into a brick wall.

And then the words came.

"I'm afraid . . ." the older gentleman spoke, his hand clasped, intertwined within one other-- eyes adverted straight down to the mahogany desk in which he was seated down upon, "L is dead."

In the dimly lit room, it was almost as if time had stopped; only the lone ticking of the clock marked every passing second, a reminder that the world was still moving-- a reminder that there was no changing the past.

" . . . Dead!? Bu-But how? Do you mean he was killed by Kira? Is that it!?"

"Most likely, yes,"

A fist pounded the table. "But he promised us that he'd find Kira and execute him! And know you're telling me that he's dead!?"

"M-Mello-!" the elder man began, but was interrupted by the third figure in the room. The sound of puzzle piece hit the ground like a cascade of rain; clattering the array of pieces-- in simple disarray.

Dark black pools stared up at the two figures several feet away from him. The boy seemed younger than the first, stations at the ground, holding up a puzzle board; light feather-like hair gave him a muddled look. But, as sayings go, there's more than meets the eye. "If we can't win the game-- if we can't solve the puzzle-- we're nothing more than failures," came a simple response to the news. His voice was not tinged in shock or anger as the first boy; instead, it seemed to be devoid of any emotion at all.

It was a plain comment, but it acted as if it had lit the ignition to a bomb. Several more words were spoken among the three-- though the third never really spoke; he merely replaced the pieces back to his puzzle. But the tension in the room only seemed to build until its breaking point-- there was only so much the mind could bottle up.

"Listen, Roger . . . Near will be the one to succeed L. Unlike me, he'll do the job calmly, without emotion; like how he solves a puzzle," the teen's voice trembled as he made a sharp turn for the door.

"I'm leaving from the institute too," he deadpanned, pausing in mid-step from the doorway. His actions were always rash; that was expected of him-- that was the consequences of letting emotions overpower actions.

"Mello!"

He turned to face the elder man; a fire raged on in those teal eyes, "Don't waste your breath; I'll be fifteen in no time at all."

A pause.

"It's time I started living my own life,"

Without another word, or comment, the teen slammed the door shut-- his footsteps soon echoing down the hallway, then disappearing altogether, without a trace.

--

Frigid blasts of winter air wisped her deep indigo tendrils of hair around in a frenzy. A solitary figure stared at the little flakes of snow falling from the heavens above; they seemed like a curse-- or were they a blessing?

The indigo strands wisped dangerously around her face; dancing in the oncoming gales-- escaping like a mad-man from their rightful place, tucked away behind the hood of her ashen colored coat. Her skin was chilled to the bone, but she continued to remain firm and unmoving like an ice sculpture; only the billowing of her pallid jacket seemed to ripple in the winds.

She had always liked the snow; it was delicate, yet powerful-- capable of bringing even the strongest men down to their feet. Yet now, the season seemed so distant and unfamiliar. What once was a 'winter wonderland' had now turned into something that she couldn't recognize. The snow was no longer light and fluffy-- it was now brittle and frail.

The world seemed to be withering away.

Winter.

She had so many memories of the icy season; and yet, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't remember any of them.

Deep cerulean eyes fixed upon the harsh grounds, searching, longing to pick up --even if it was a faint trace-- those long lost deep memoirs that seemed to be frozen, trapped away beneath the snow.

"From this point on . . . you're name will be Kanon; you will no longer be known as --"

Why couldn't she remember?

Why couldn't she remember her own name?

"Kanon . . ."

The name sounded so strange to her now; so unfamiliar, even coming out from her lips. Then again, she never had any opposition in such a codename; she merely accepted it with no complaints.

"You were used, Kanon," a malevolent voice chuckled.

What was this? A memory?

"You're only a mere marionette; he holds the strings. Not your father, and certainly not you."

That eerie laugh escaped a man's lips; his face was cascaded in darkness.

Why couldn't she remember the face? Why?

"Don't you understand? You work for us now."

She knew not the face behind that mask, only the voice. There were so many questions left unanswered. She had been trapped like a caged bird ever since she was placed in their care. Freedom seemed to be a forbidden sin. No where to run, no where to hide; only to live to serve and obey.

Ice nipped away at her frozen cheeks; her eyes, now staring steadily towards a single card in her hand. Judgment, of the major arcana.

A foreboding sense of amusement seemed to linger in the room as the cloaked figure simply stared and the upturned chair-- the girl, no longer in sight. She had chosen to run away to her freedom.

'Such foolishness,' the figure mused. 'She's such a stupid girl,'

"Dear, dear Kanon," the voice spoke one more, the glass walls glided up to the roof, revealing a number of other members, hidden in the shadows. As the last echoes vibrated off the stone-like walls, the man smirked; his eyes glued towards the lone exit-- the plight for freedom.

"We still control the strings,"

She was a fool to believe that nothing would have happened if she had run away from the organization. She believed that her freedom would cut all the strings that attached her to them; that she would finally be able to live.

That was bullshit. Certainly the deaths of her acquaintances were not coincidental. Each casualty occurred with meticulous precision, and the touch of death seemed to spread out like a plague. Vengeance raged through her blood. A death a day to those who she knew. It was almost as if they displayed a sole message to her.

Run, Kanon, run as fast and hard as you'd like. But you can't hide from us forever.

She regretted many things, yet she learned to let past events be past events. Nothing would bring them back. She wanted to punish those who sinned and crush them into the ground-- burying them with their horrible deeds. Blood for blood. Life for life. She vowed that one day she'd have her vengence.

Now, the winter winds never ceased to stop; their crisp airs swirling around her body, giving her the long awaited solace that she had been searching for ever since she had stepped out of the confinements that bound her.

The lone slip of paper flew from her hands, dancing wildly in the air. She watched it being carried up into the sky, fluttering like a butterfly first learning how to fly. The solitary card flew higher and higher until it was no longer seen, absorbed by the sky.

A lone ray of light immersed from the ashen sky, striking itself right before her feet.

The heavens had heeded her cry.

It was a sign.

A sign that judgment day would soon arrive.


More Author's Notes: ;w; I told you I'm not good at this stuff! -jumps off a cliff-

Ahem. As said before, so far, all of this is taken place in the past. As for my OC, I'm not sure how her pesona's going to be. But I can tell you this; she isn't going to be one of those 'super-duper emo freakin' Mary-Sues' because honestly, I've had enough of them. As for the story, I'm going to create some twists and turns along the way. Oh and the thing that she was holding was a tarot card called Judgement. It seemed to fit, so I used it. o3o''

I'd greatly appreciated if you guys would let me know what you think of it so far. So please review; it'd make my day if you did. :3