Summary: Just as the title says. I figured that L would leave something for his successors to go on. Originally it was going to be just an essay, but, hey, I realized that this fit the envelope better. There are obviously spoilers.
Rated: K+, just because of the whole theme of death and dying and stuff... you know what I mean.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN DEATH NOTE OR IT'S CHARACTERS! THEY BELONG TO OHBA AND OBATA, AS ANY GOOD FAN SHOULD KNOW.
Author's Note: It was a long and arduous journey for something so metaphorical to come from such a young mind as my own, but if you're reading this, I made it out alive and smart enough to type. XD Enjoy, friends, fans, and freaks. I love you all!
AND IF YOU DIDN'T READ THE SUMMARY, THERE ARE OBVIOUSLY SPOILERS.
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To Whom it May Concern:
This pen I write with now is more intelligent than any human, even my now dead self. It knows words that have not been invented. It gives us a name. It influences people. It knows every single language of this world. It knows every human's name, every action we take, and every fear we have.
How does it know this? Because it can be everything. Words, drawings, and a possible difference between a life and a death. It is one of the few who know the name on my birth certificate, which has long been gone. It will document my name for a second time in the world at the end of this will. And then, it will document my name for a third time on my death certificate.
I am a detective. A famous one, and few have seen my face. I hide behind computer screens and voice filters.
Technology is something that has advanced at an alarming rate. First we have the circle (or the wheel, whichever you prefer, you can't have one without the other), then we had Stone Hedge and the Egyptian pyramids. Now, our biggest assignment as a race is, what? Curing a case of the sniffles? Sickening.
I for one would prefer scientists wasting billions of tax-payers' money on something life-threatening, such as cancer or dementia. Have you ever heard someone crying at a funeral because their loved one died of a cold? No. You get over a cold. But cancer and dementia are serious, something we seem to only dream about. But curing the cold has and will be for years, maybe even centuries after my death, "just out of reach."
I seem to be opposed of medical advancement, but I'm not. At least we're advancing, period.
Mankind will always wonder. There will never be a day when you, or your children, or your children's children will stop and say, "So, we've finally discovered everything. There is absolutely nothing else we can find or figure out. We know the depth of the universe, we're friends with other intelligent life, we figured out that there is no God, after all."
That will never happen, because we will then ask ourselves, "What else is there to wonder about?"
There is no coincidence that "question" begins with the word "quest," because there will always be one with every question. I should know that best of all. Even if it is a quick search on Google, or a journey across Asia, or even just looking underneath your bed, there is a quest. Cherish your quests, because you never know which will be your last.
If you are reading this, then know that whatever my last quest was, I cherished it. I cherish my quests. Use this philosophy often, because sometimes it pulled me through dark times, when I was on the edge of darkness and infection in the brain.
I have few friends, but I don't mind. It's better that way. Humans want companionship, need it. Have companionship, just put it right below your quest. It's still important, but if you want to carry on my legacy properly, you'll put it below, otherwise your life may be at risk.
Love is something a human creates. Love is just a word. Don't let the opposite gender cloud your thoughts, do not trust anyone. You'll never know who anyone is.
We don't have much time in our lives. It's likely I died prematurely, so make a note.
Now, if Beyond Birthday is still alive at my time of death, please send him a pair of my jeans and one of my shirts with a jar of strawberry jam. Something to humor him. He could have been great, but he wasn't. He cracked. It's something pitiful.
Otherwise, everything should be split between Near and Mello in Wammy's House. I wish for them to work together. They balance each other, and I believe that it will never be right if one is emotionless and one is emotional. So they should work together.
Mello, never forget your priorities. And don't forget how to use your emotions to your advantage. It's something important, because if you don't have any will, there won't be any conclusion.
Near, don't stop what you do. All you use is your head. You must use your heart as well. Show your friends what you are thinking sometime. They won't trust you. I showed just enough for people to begin edging close, but once they see how I sit and my odd eating habits, well, that's as close as they get. Oh, that reminds me, Roger tells me you've been eating your toys. Eat something real every once and a while... like a melon with some ham slices.
So, I am at the end of this will. Please take what I've said into consideration.
And always remember that there are many monsters in this world, and you might find yourself becoming one, just as I have, and I'm sure that that is what I am defeated by, because it is one of the few things I fear. Don't let the monsters get you, be strong, and if you can't get what you want, start wanting what you have.
And so, I document my real name for the first time in my life.
Remember me always,
L Lawliet
L was satisfied. After many times of rewriting his will, he finally found something that suited him. He felt that the salutation was not a plead but a request.
He set it down on the table after reading it over one more time.
"Watari, will you fix me some coffee?"
"Yes, sir!" Came the old man's voice from another room. After a few minutes, he came bustling in with a tray of a pot of steaming coffee, a cup of creamer, and several bowls of sugar.
"Watari, sit down, please."
Grunting as he sat, the old man's eyes looked into L's, and they twinkled as bright as the day he had met them. "What is it?"
"We should put this somewhere safe. It's my will."
"You're not hardly 22 and you've made a will? Why have you made a will so early in life?"
"Because if I don't get it done now, I believe that it will never get done. And I could croak any day you know." L smiled and wagged his finger at his oldest friend.
"Well, yes, anyone could croak." Watari wagged his finger back. "I'm no spring chicken, everyone knows that. But I have absolutely no will put out whatsoever! I'm not afraid of dying anytime soon, and I believe that once I do that I wouldn't really care what would happen to my things."
"Watari, you're a millionaire. I think that you should care what happens to all of that money."
"Are you kidding? I'll spend it all on you, buying you candy after candy!" They both chuckled. "I won't care, I just don't think that it matters much."
"Watari."
"Hmm?"
"You're a good fellow."
Watari smiled a crooked smile, and slowly got up, pulling the will up with him. He took it to another room to hide it somewhere neat.
In the end, Watari had put it in a safe. Once L died, nobody really knew where it was. It wasn't a legal document, so no one knew it even existed except the two and Roger.
Unfortunately, Roger had memorized the code to the safe so long ago, that he ended up forgetting it. They tried everything to get it open, but it just wouldn't budge. He couldn't waste too much time on it, he had an orphanage to run.
All of that knowledge went to waste, and it was undecided who his successor should be. They discovered it in the end for themselves, but the cost was heavy: two men, not even thirty, and a young, beautiful woman who just happened to love a God.
In the nothingness that shrouded L once he died, he looked around, and he realized that he was not a success, but a failure, because so much more remained in his head.
So much pent-up knowledge that he kept to himself.
And all of that knowledge went to waste.
Fin