Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or its characters, just my own.

Note: Okay, I know that many people hate OCs, but this is not a Mary Sue, I swear to you—at least I don't intend to make her that way. I want her to be a well-rounded character, so if you people give her a chance, then you can also give constructive critique about her—what you like/dislike, how I can improve, stuff like that.

Also, to keep you at ease, this OC is not going to be paired with any canon character—at least not romantically. Any relationship she will have with most of the canon characters won't extend beyond friendship—at least not in this fic. Not so sure about future fics.

Warning: Other than the OC, there is character death and a lot of angsting in the near future. It is all for the sake of the plot though–I swear.

Chapter 1:

About some miles off the coast of the United Kingdom is the country known as Ireland. It is an island that is partially owned by the English, the small upper part, known as Northern Ireland, but the rest of the land belongs to Republic of Ireland.

It is a source of history, culture and folklore, a wonderful place to visit—save for the lack of sun and warmth, of course. If you ever plan on coming here for a summer vacation, or something like that, then I suggest you to not expect to get any tans or go to any beaches. Most of the time, it's way too rainy to even go outside.

Since I am the older twin sister of Japanese star model, actress and occasional pop singer, Misa Amane, one probably wouldn't expect me to be in this place. After all, Misa and I are identical twins, mirror images of each other, with some exceptions. Misa likes to dye her hair blonde, for the sake of her career, while I prefer to keep my hair brown. She sometimes likes to put on blue eye contacts, while I keep my eyes the dark shade they were born in.

Which leads to what you are already expecting to hear: Though Misa and I look extremely alike; we have different personalities and interests. She likes wearing frilly Gothic Lolita dresses, and I like wearing plain clothes. She likes make-up, and I like to keep my face clear of facial goop. She likes to read fashion magazines and tabloids, and I like to read varieties of literature and novels. She wouldn't even think of being in Ireland, since she is practically a sun-worshipper, but I actually feel at peace here, or at least content (though a little more sun and less rain would be nice). We may be each other's clones, but we are complete opposites.

That does not mean that we resent each other though. Actually, it's best to say that our opposite personalities are what has made us as close as we have been in our lives, especially over the last couple of years. And if we did resent each other, I know that the two of us would be miserable. How could we hate each other? We are not only blood, but we are all each other have in the world to call family.

Two years ago, our parents were killed by a burglar, leaving Misa and I as orphans. In that situation, it was a requirement to depend on each other and work together in order to survive. Misa dropped out of school and went into a career in modeling in order to put food on the table (a decision that led to great success, believe it or not), while I watched her back and made sure her agent didn't put her through anything that would give her negative exposure. We both took care of each other in the best ways either of us could, as our parents would have wanted.

While Misa made her career as Japan's pop star, I reserved myself to stand in the background and focus on my studies, as well as my sister's well being. I wanted to become a lawyer, one who would impose justice on criminals, especially murderers. The experience of our parent's deaths never left either Misa, or me—it hung above our heads like a cloud.

In fact, we both steamed over it, especially after the man was let go after one year in prison. When that happened, Misa became depressed, angry and more reserved, while I was loud and indignant over the injustice. I had tried to get our lawyer to appeal the case, but there were too many issues that would hold back the trial. I became so angry that I dove myself into my work into becoming a lawyer, because that was all I thought I could do. I wanted to become, not the best, but a lawyer who was good enough not to let someone get away with murder. It became my goal, my obsession practically.

Not long after my parents' murderer was released, I managed to land a semester in England's Cambridge University, which required me to leave Japan, and Misa, for a year.

So far, it has been an interesting year abroad.

First, I got a boyfriend, one with a sweet English accent that made me cringe at the imperfections of the men back home.

Second, there was news of fatal heart attacks of criminals, mostly in Japan, being caused by a mass murderer, better known as "Kira".

Third, not too long after, Misa called me, sounding the most eager than she had been in a while, saying:

"Risa, Risa, you'll never believe it!"

What?

(Laughs) "He's dead, Risa! The bastard is dead…!" (Breaks off, laughing some more)

No way! Seriously?

"Yep! He's dead! Gone, poof—forever…And it's all thanks to Kira-sama…Kira-sama is the absolute best…"

Uh…Misa?

"Say you agree with Misa-Misa, Risa! There are many people back home who fight with Misa-Misa about this, but I know you won't. You know that what Kira-sama is doing is right and just…

"…Right?"

…Yes, Misa I do agree with you. What Kira is doing is right…

That news should have made me happy, and at first it did. But as the conversation between us continued, I thought about it and felt my sadness ebb away into bitterness.

I would have preferred it if the murderer had rotted in jail for the rest of his life, living in reflection of his sins. But I couldn't argue with Misa on this. If you had heard her voice, so joyful, yet hesitant and lost, then you'd probably understand how I feel. I couldn't argue that Kira's methods were not only unjust, but also pointless.

Not when she sounded so…so vulnerable without any reassurance of some kind, from either me or anyone else.

It just wasn't worth hurting her.

Fourth was when L came to the scene and publicly challenged Kira. I wasn't sure what to think of him, and I still don't know what to think of him. Frankly, I think I would have been more comfortable with him if I knew what he looked like at least. But I think I understand the importance of his anonymity, especially when going up against an opponent who could kill someone with his or her own name.

Misa's reaction was a little unnerving though…

"I just don't understand why L and the police won't team up with Kira instead of fighting him…They are on the same side, so why are they against Kira?!"

…I—don't know.

"L is just going to get in the way of a better world! Why is he…or she, I guess…fighting Kira? They should just team up with each other to build up Kira's world…right Risa?"

Of course, Misa…

Then of course, there was that other strange conversation we had about a month later…

"…Hey, Risa, can I…tell you something?"

Sure.

"It's a little…odd, and…unbelievable."

It's okay, Misa, you can tell me. I mean, it can't be any worse than anything else you've told me before.

((Both laugh))

"You're right, Onee-chan, as always…"

Sooo, what is it? New dress? New movie role? New boyfriend?… You're not pregnant, are you?

"WHA—?! NO!!"

(I laugh) Calm down, I kid, I kid.

(Harrumph) "Well, I'll have you know, that it's something big—bigger than anything we know!"

Okay, so what is it?

"I have a… A…"

Yes…?

(A pause, and then a strained laugh) "You know what? It doesn't matter…So, how's everything with you and Edgar?"

The conversation trailed on a different topic from there. We talked about our lives, what was going on, the relationships we were in, what type of clothes England had to offer—stuff like that. I talked about Edgar, my new boyfriend, while Misa talked about this guy she met in Aoyama. She didn't mention his name to me, but she said that he was "like a god," in her words. I remember laughing at her and teasing her about it all. She had obviously been hopelessly infatuated with him.

And finally, the fifth most interesting thing to happen to happen to me while I'm abroad: Mine and Edgar's trip to Dublin, Ireland for the week-long holiday break, before I headed back home to Japan.

Edgar's family owned a boat, and they allowed him to borrow it so the two of us could go to Ireland together. He knew that I had wanted to go there because of all the scenery and the mythology in it, so he was happy to take a trip there with me, especially since I would be leaving soon.

We had arrived on Thursday and were planning on leaving a week from there, just a few days before my flight back home. Until then, we were staying in Dublin, in a beautiful hotel room that had two beds and a great view of the city.

I was currently in said hotel room, curled up on my bed with an open book in my hand. It was late afternoon, the whole sky gray. Water came down from the sky and pelted down on the streets in bucketfuls. There was even the occasional crash of thunder to set the mood right. This was the perfect reading weather.

Edgar was out in a pub with some friends he met yesterday. That was fine with me; I wasn't one to keep my man away from having fun. Besides, I wasn't a fan of crowded places, especially bars. I prefer being surrounded by a small group of friends, rather than fifty or so strangers. So I decided to stay in the hotel room until Edgar came back.

Eventually though, I got a little bored. The book was great; there was nothing wrong with it. It's just that one can barely sit for hours on end, doing nothing but read. I might be a book lover, but I have some limits. I was getting twitchy over here for god's sake.

I groaned, closed the book and put it down on my nightstand. Then I lay down in a fetal position, my hands curled near my head and my splayed under my head, over the pillow. My lips were pursed in that characteristic Amane girl pout—the one my sister was better known for—as I sighed. I needed something to do.

Suddenly I beamed, an idea springing up in my head. I sat up and started searching through my bag for my phone to call Misa. It had been, like, two weeks since we last spoke. Between my college courses, her model shoots, her acting and building singing career, it was sometimes hard for the two of us to keep in contact. We were lucky sometimes to talk to each other at least twice a week.

I got out my phone and turned it on. I wasn't much of a talker during the school week, so most of the time my phone is off. After it loaded up, it started beeping, indicating that I had a message on my voice mail. It had been left there yesterday, in the early morning, when I was still sleeping I pressed the button to listen to the message and waited.

"Onee-chan? Onee-chan, are you there? Please, pick up the phone. I need to talk to you."

Misa's voice came through, but it was different from how she talked before, during our last conversation, much different. For one thing, she was calling me "Onee-chan," something she hasn't done since junior high. Second, she was speaking normally, something she only does when she's being serious (which is rare, trust me). And third, her usually high-pitched voice was now low and sad, with a hint of fear, as if she was afraid that someone might be listening in on her.

She sighed and gulped, "I guess a message will have to do. Listen to me Onee-chan, I don't have much time. He could be watching me right now, so this is going to have to be quicker than I want it to be.

"I…have done a terrible thing Onee-chan—many terrible things. I won't say what I've done because I'm so ashamed of myself—too ashamed even to tell you. I just feel so…so…so stupid! I thought he loved me, and that by helping him, he and I would…but that doesn't matter anymore.

"There is no way I can repent for my sins—they are too great, too unforgivable. But I know how I can stop it, how to stop him.

"Listen, when you come back home, search for my black notebook. I can't tell you the location over the phone, because he doesn't know. But don't worry; I will leave you clues to where it is. And when you find it, remember these two things: Don't write anything inside it, and trust Rem—she will help you, even if she might not look trustworthy.

"Take it to L right away. It's what he needs to convict him, you understand? You'll know him the minute you see him. Just think of the last man on earth I would ever date, and there you have him. He will most likely be at some sugar-addict café, or To-Oh University. He won't look like much, but you have to place your trust in him. He is our chance at catching Kira.

"Speaking of which, no matter what, don't trust Light Yagami. He is Kira and has no qualms in killing those who get in his way, but he can't do it without a name. But don't worry, he doesn't know about you, or your connection to me. You are safe, as long as you don't use your real name back home.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. This had to be some kind of joke, right? The next moment she would speak would be when she burst out into fits of giggles and say "Gotcha!" I won't be laughing though. This is just too scary. My heart is pounding in my ears and my breathing is getting irregular.

Misa better cut it out now; otherwise I'll be pissed.

But she didn't stop. In fact, she continued, her voice getting shaky and choked, as if she was going to start bawling.

"Before I hang up, I have to tell you this older sister: no matter what you might find out about me, what you might think of me in the future, I love you very much.

"I'm sorry that the two of us won't get married on the same day, or raise our children together, like we used to talk about.

"I'm sorry for being such a screw-up of a little sister, for giving you trouble all this time. I wanted to repay you back by bringing in money in our family and helping you for a change, but I failed, big time. I guess growing up just wasn't for me, huh?

"Most of all, I'm sorry that I broke our promise.

My hands clenched my jeans, my skin getting pale.

She sounded like…she was saying goodbye.

I did not like this joke of her's.

Not. One. Bit.

Though her voice sounded broken, ready to sob, Misa managed to get her pitch to match her characteristic third person referring voice—one that sounded carefree and childish. That didn't make the joke any better though. Actually, it made it worse. My stomach twisted when I heard her speak again.

"Don't you worry, Onee-chan! Misa-Misa may have broken her side of the promise, but that doesn't mean Onee-chan has to."

Her voice made my heart ache, especially when it had that petulant, scolding tone near the end.

"You still have a life to live, remember that. Don't waste it."

My heart was close to bursting out of my chest when she finally lowered her voice to a sad, broken whisper.

"Goodbye."

Click.

I immediately closed my phone, my body going numb. Then, with anger bubbling to a boil in my chest, I flipped it open again, went to Misa's name and pressed "call."

Her joke wasn't funny. Not in the least. And though I tried not to get angry with her, there had to be times when I had to stop playing nice and put my feet down on Misa's sometimes careless attitude. When I get back home, I'm going to murder her, I swear. But first, I'm going to gripe to her about it on the phone.

As her phone started ringing, I drummed my fingers against my denim covered legs. Her phone better not go to voice mail, otherwise I'll start screaming. Trust me, you wouldn't like it if I started screaming. It might give your fragile, old grandmother a heart attack.

Then, finally she answered. Well not exactly, but the call came through. Misa just didn't say, "hello."

Little brat of a little sister must be scared. Hmph, she's damn well right to be scared.

"Listen Misa, I don't know where you get off playing that joke on me," I snapped at her. "I didn't find it funny at all, you hear me? And further more—!"

"…I'm sorry, but this isn't Misa…Who are you?"

I froze. That was a man's voice. Not Misa's.

My eyes narrowed, suspicions flying through my mind. What was a stranger doing with Misa's phone?

"No, actually the question is, who are you, sir?"

There was a slight rustle and multiple male murmurs on the other side of the phone. The first man sounded like he was walking to another room or something. Then he spoke in a quiet, nervous voice sounded slightly nervous as he quietly told someone about me. Then I think the phone was passed to someone else because the next voice, though male, was different from the first. His voice was more calm and stoic, while the other was nervous.

"Hello, who is this?"

My grip on the phone tightened. Suddenly what Misa said struck my mind. What if she was right about warning me not to use my real name? That raised even more questions, like who were these men? And where was Misa?

I swallowed the lump in my throat, and tried to sound as confident as I wanted to feel.

"No way, pal," I said, my voice shaking slightly. "Tell me who you are first, and tell me what you're doing with my sister's phone!"

There was a pause on the other side. "Your…sister…? Who do you mean?"

I felt my lip tremble against my will. My heart rate raced and cold sweat broke out on my body. Something was wrong.

"I mean, Misa Amane!" I exclaimed, practically desperate. "You know, the person who owns the phone in your hand?!"

The stoic voice on the other side of the phone had a tinge of surprise in it as he muttered back, "Misa Amane is your sister?"

"Yes," I ground out.

"…She never mentioned a sister…"

"I don't really like to publicize myself as her sister. Her career is her's, not mine. Besides I'm not the 'wanting-to-be-famous' type." I wasn't sure why I was rambling. I just wanted to assure myself that Misa was all right. "If you want, you could call her agent," I added, "she'll vouch for me."

The man didn't answer for a little bit. I heard a soft murmur that sounded like an order and then there was more silence. The drumming of my fingers against my legs increased as my breathing became uneven. The base of my neck seemed to have frozen cold as a premonition went through my head.

Something is wrong.

Something is wrong.

Something is wrong…!

…Where is Misa?

For some reason, the image of a grandfather clock popped into my mind. It stood high and tall, almost as big as Big Ben in London, its face being just as big. Its golden swing slowly and stiffly swayed right to left, back and forth, making ticking sounds that echoed in my mind.

Finally, after what felt like hours, (but was probably five minutes), the man came back on the phone.

"Well, it seems your story checks out," he said. "Risa Amane, is that right?"

(Tick.)

"Y-yes," I swallowed shakily, and whimpered slightly, "Where's Misa? Please tell me where she is."

(Tock.)

There was a pregnant pause on the other side of the phone. For two whole minutes the man didn't say anything. I felt the clenched fist on my knees clench tighter. My nails would break the skin if it kept up, but I didn't care. I wanted the answer.

I just hoped and prayed it wasn't the answer that I didn't want.

The man sighed, finally. "I apologize to be the one to do this, Amane-san. Please keep in mind that this is not my forte, so to speak, so please don't…overreact."

My eyes widened as my heart skydived to my stomach. My brain had already configured an answer, but it was an answer that I refused to believe. It just couldn't be true.

I shut my eyes and willed him to give me the answer that I wanted.

"As her last living relative, you have the right to know," he continued.

(TICK!)

"Your sister is dead."

(TOCK!!)