Chapter 1

Beginnings

If a tree falls in a forest without anyone to hear it, does it make a sound? It seems like I am the only one who knows the answer. Heck, my life could probably be used to solve it.

If a child is in pain, but no one understands, are they still hurt? Yes. I would know from experience. I've been hurt many times, and it's not as if anyone notices. But I still feel the pain.

I have leukemia. Leukemia is a type of cancer focused on white blood cells. I have nosebleeds often. I bruise easily. I am physically weak. (though you won't get me to admit it.) And I'm incredibly skinny. It's not hard to tell that I'm dying.

Which is why I think it's pointless to put me in Wammy's. By the time L is dead, I most likely will be, too.

I would like to start at the day I went to Wammy's.

On my first day, I was 10 years old. My mother had died giving birth to me, and my father had killed himself nearly a year ago.

You could say I was low on self-esteem.

What is Wammy's? Wammy's House is an orphanage for incredibly intelligent children. In my opinion, it's kind of biased. Think about it; an orphanage that doesn't only except people with dead parents-Nah, you have to be a uber-genius, too.

Actually, they have a good reason for what they're doing. They need to find the smartest child in the world- preferably an orphan, before L dies.

Who is L? The greatest known mind in this world. He is a amazing detective, having solved more cases in the last three years than most police officers hope to in their entire lives.

And he's dying. L Lawliet (yeah-that's his real name) has a severe medical condition that causes him to need a very large amount of sugars in order to live. So, when he dies, the person currently in the top spot at Wammy's will take his place. Because people need someone like L.

Man… I'm way off track. I was at Wammy's right? Right. Ten years old. Right.

So picture a small orphanage a few miles off the edge of Winchester, England. At this time, about twenty or so children were playing in the front yard. Almost none of them notice the small ten-year-old girl walking through the large gates, holding the hand of a very old man. She is incredibly small, but not in a way that makes her seem young. Instead, she seems strong, like she has been through a lot, has seen a lot. She has long, curly, thick brown hair going down to the middle of her back. She is very thin and pale, with a vulnerable look to her build. Her eyes are not scared, like most students on their first day, or even crying. Instead, her face looks over the crowd in front of her, calculating.

"Thank you for your help, Watari. I think I can manage it from here." The old man smiles and nods.

The man had a slight Japanese accent; maybe for this reason, he whispered as he said, "Be strong, Marie. I'm going to go tell Roger he has a new charge." He chuckled and walked into the orphanage, leaving her behind.

On that day, I was to busy to bother with listening with what he had said; I was wondering who to talk to first. I eventually decided on the smallest group of children in the corner, for two reasons. One-they appeared interesting, with their eccentric clothing and hairstyles. Two, I didn't do well with the kind of people that usually associated with large groups; they were often shallow and demeaning. That isn't to say all of them are-just most.

One of them was tall and blond, with shoulder length hair and startling blue eyes. He was wearing all black, leather at that. He had a red and white beaded rosary around his neck. He reminded me of a dove splattered with black paint- his features were so angelic compared to his clothing. The other, mindlessly staring at the screen of a Nintendo DS through orange-tinted goggles, had messy red-brown hair; in my mind, it seemed to be maroon. He was wearing a fussy brown sleeveless winter coat over a long-sleeved black and white striped t-shirt. He had on black leather elbow-length gloves and knee-length boots. He was sporting black skinny jeans. At the time, I wondered if he was trying to look like one of his video-game characters, or if he simply preferred that particular style of clothing. Either way, it suited him. He didn't look up from his game as I approached them. The other one, the blond, stared at me warily.

"Hi, my name is Marie. What's your's?"

He grabbed a bar of chocolate from who knows where, an ferociously took a bite. I'll admit it; he scared me a little. He looked at me for a second and then shrugged, as if to say, 'What can it hurt, really?'

"I'm Mello, and this dip-stick is Matt. What do you want? There's a lot of better people you can talk to, you know. We're not exactly popular."

I shrugged. "Neither was I. You don't really want to get up close to the kid with leukemia. She's going to die, anyway." My voice came out sounding more bitter than I'd intended.

He looked shocked for a second, then turned to pity. He shouldn't have. I despise pity more than any other emotion. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "Don't be; I brought it up. So, tell me, does Matt over there talk at all, or just rarely?"

He laughed. I don't know if he was thinking the same thing as I was at that moment, but I'm pretty sure he was.

This is just the start of a beautiful friendship.

Chapter 2

Belief

There are not many things I believe in in this world. For instance, I don't believe in God. If there was a god, Mello (one of his biggest believers) would be in first place at Wammy's. If there was a God, I would be healthy; happy. Matt would have an unlimited supply of video games.

My mother and father wouldn't be dead.

I don't believe in birthdays, either. They seem like a waste of time. That may be because I never celebrated one until I met Mello and Matt.

There is one thing that I believe in, though-Beyond Birthday is utterly insane.

You would believe it too if he had greeted you the way he had greeted me.

I still remember his cold smile in the lunchroom during my second day at Wammy's. I can still hear his twisted and merry voice as he said it:

"You don't have very much time, now do you? Hehe… neither does your gamer friend. Or the chocoholic. But, if you compare them to you, they have an eternity. And you-well, you have a blink of an eye. I wonder, do you know?"

"Don't encourage him," Matt muttered under his breath while still being completely focused on his video game.

I ignored him; Matt probably gave me good advice, but I was curious. I focused on Beyond.

"Do I know what?"

Beyond cackled. The whole lunch room was staring at him as he said, "That, at the most, you'll only live to be seventeen? Or maybe I was wondering if you knew you had cancer? Alice May Harper, are you ignoring me? You're going to die, within seven years!"

I stared at him. "You're lying," I whispered.

He shook his head merrily, "If I was lying, then how would I know your real name, Marie?"

Mello and Matt suddenly stood up, as if by some invisible queue.

Mello was obviously mad. "Let's get out of this nuthouse."

Matt's voice was cold. "C'mon, Marie, let's leave. Beyond's a nutter anyways."

I only followed them because I wanted to try and escape what Beyond had said. It couldn't be true; I was going to be lucky enough to live until seventeen? I had been convinced by doctors that I would only live another year at most.

To live until 17 would be a miracle. I had never witnessed one of those before. They are another thing I didn't believe in.

Mello immediately started talking after he had locked us in the library.

"You shouldn't listen to him. He probably hacked into the school files. Or bribed Roger. Beyond just wants to mess with you." I smiled, but only shook my head at him. Couldn't he tell how happy I was? I was practically bursting.

Matt spoke up. "You're not upset. Why?"

I figured it was time to tell them. They obviously wouldn't figure it out otherwise.

"A few months ago, a specialist in New York told me that I would only live another year, at most. Beyond just told me I would live seven more. And you can't tell why I'm happy?"

Matt shook his head. "Why would a doctor tell a ten year old girl that?"

I was confused. "He believed it to be true."

Matt shook his head and ruffled my hair. "You don't get it, do you? Now it's my turn to explain. Even if you believe a patient is going to die, you don't tell them. Think about the emotional trauma. And what if you're wrong? The patient could sue you. It just seems to me like it's better for both parties if you don't disclose that kind of information."

I nodded. I could see his point. In a way, he was right. But I had purposely asked the doctor when he thought I was going to die, and how soon. "I still believe that it would be a miracle to live until seventeen. You know, considering that I would've only had a year before."

Mello, who had stayed silent through most of this, shook his head.

"What is you had lived your life being told you would live until you were seventy, even eighty? Beyond didn't need to tell you that. He did it purely to upset you. What the real miracle is, is that you weren't upset! You deserve to live for much longer than seventeen years. Everyone does."

I shook my head. Mello rarely made me sad, but this was one of those times.

"Mihael Keehl, hasn't anyone ever told you? People hardly ever get what they deserve."

Chapter 3

Heartbroken

With a show of hands, tell me-how many people reading this right now really and truly believe in miracles? Just what I thought. Hardly any of you.

And I don't need to see that to believe it.

But what if I told you I had proof? Because I do. Here it is- ever since I went to Wammy's I had been receiving extensive medical assistance. When I was 13, they started putting me through chemo. Every few months they would check up on me, to see if I would still have signs of cancer. I got used to them finding something.

But on my fifth appointment, they didn't. They asked to test my blood again out of the random one day a week after to see if they had made a mistake, but they didn't.

My doctor cried when she told me that they hadn't found any cancer. I couldn't wait to tell Mello and Matt.

When I got back to Wammy's from the doctor's office, Mello was the only one waiting for me. Matt, he said, was taking an aptitude test and wouldn't be back for a few hours. On any other day, I would've waited for him before telling, but I wanted to see Mello's face so badly…

I almost laughed as he turned as white as a sheet and bugged his eyes out. I wondered if I would have to pick his jaw up off the floor.

"Y-you… If you're joking, I'm gonna kill you."

I shook my head.

"Seriously?" I chuckled and nodded.

Suddenly I was in the bear hug of my life. For a while he just kept hugging me. Then he pulled back and looked at me.

"Remember when you first came here, and BB told you that you were going to die?" I nodded. "Do you remember what I said?"

"I remember everything you said, but what in particular?"

"When I said you didn't deserve it. And then you said people don't get what they deserve."

I was confused. "What about it?"

He smiled, and leaned in so that our faces were barely inches apart.

"You didn't deserve to have leukemia. And now you don't have it."

That one shocked me. I admit it. After he finished, I didn't know what to say. So I just stared at him, wondering what he was going to do next.

He leaned in slowly and brushed his lips across mine.

Mello disappeared from Wammy's in a fit of rage the next day.

I remember the day he disappeared vividly. I usually don't let my emotions gain control of me that way.

It was on a Saturday. I slept in until near noon, because I was incredibly tired from the whole ordeal yesterday. When I woke up, there was a box on my dresser. I walked up to it, figuring it was from Mello or Matt, a 'I'm so happy you don't have cancer gift', if you will.

Sure enough, on the package in Mello's messy handwriting was:

"I you don't open this, you'll wish you had cancer. -Mello" I smiled and ripped the package open. There were two things inside.

The first was a gun. I will never know his motivation for that.

The second was a note. It was a waste of a sheet of paper, really, with only two short words.

I'm sorry.

Needless to say, I assumed the worst. I ran out of my room, screaming the same thing over and over repeatedly.

"MIHAEL CURTIS KEEHL, IF YOU DON'T COME OVER HERE RIGHT NOW, I SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU!"

I must've looked like quite a sight, running down the halls, screaming out his name over and over. After a few minutes, someone came up from behind me and put his hand over my mouth, spinning me around.

Near was surprisingly strong.

"By your outbursts, I'm assuming he left you a letter." I nodded. " If you stop screaming, I'll tell you what's happening." I nodded again. I was out of breath, anyway.

He slowly removed his hand from my mouth. "L has died by Kira's hand. As L himself didn't decide who would take his place, Roger decided that he would've wanted Mello and I to work together. Mello disliked the idea and left, presumably to find Kira by himself, taking Matt with him."

I stared at him.

He… took Matt… But not me? I could feel the burn of tears behind my eyes, but I absolutely refused to cry for Mello's sake. If he didn't need me, I didn't need him.

Or at least that's what I told myself as tears slipped down my face.

The look on Near's face was one of understanding as he led by the hand to my room, closing the door behind us. He simply sat me down on the bed and waited me out. When my sobbing had faded, he spoke quietly.

"I would like you to help me when I go to stop Kira."

I nodded, but I felt guilty about it; after all, I wasn't doing so to look for Kira, but to find Mello.

Chapter 4

Intentions

In time, I grew close to Near; he was the perfect calm antidote to missing Matt and Mello. Near, in a way, made me feel numb. Like Novocain.

I hadn't been sure, originally, why Near would need my help, but soon it became apparent. I was like his Watari. When he had to speak to someone outside of his taskforce and the one in Japan, he used me.

In the next year, I grew rapidly, without any illness to hold back my growth. I was now the height of a normal person, but, as if for sacrifice, I had cut my hair to shoulder length. My face had leaned out most of my baby fat, and my emerald green eyes had gained a slight tilt to them. Though I didn't see it myself, Near said I was quite pretty.

I hardly ever saw the SPK, even though we lived in the same building. Near seemed keen on keeping us separate, telling me only what I directly asked. I learned later on that they knew very little about me, as well.

Near started to have me watch the SPK; he set up several screens in the walls of my room so that I could watch everything that was going on.

It was months before anything interesting (to me) happened.

I remember the exact time-1:38pm. I was fifteen when it happened. It had been a normal day, until that point. Then the news spread that someone was at the door, waiting for someone to let them in. I quickly switched cameras so that I got an easy view of the front door.

There was a boy about my age standing in front of it. He had shoulder-length honey-blond hair, and was wearing purely black leather.

No, I thought. It can't be. But all doubts were erased from by mind when the figure snapped an aggressive bite out of a chocolate bar.

I was snapped out of my reverie when Near's voice cracked over the intercom.

"Marie, can you see who it is outside the door?"

I said calmly, fighting other emotions on the inside, "Yes, I can."

"Do you know who they are?"

I swallowed, but ended up saying it anyway. Near wouldn't hurt Mello, would he?

"I…I think it's Mello." It felt so odd to day his name.

"I see. Do you want to be the one to confront him?"

Yes. Wait…. No, I couldn't. But I have to….

Oh, just get it done already, you know you want to see him. Weather or not you kill him, you still want to see him.

"Y-yes, I think I do."

For the first time since the day I met him, Near's voice carried a little bit of emotion.

"If you don't come back, I won't be angry." The intercom let off a small beep, signaling that Near could no linger hear me. I got up out of my chair and started down to the elevator.

I felt like a wuss, staring at the front door and daring myself to open it. I had been staring there for 5 minutes.

I was startled to hear Mello knock violently at the door in front of me.

"Near, if you don't get your f***ing butt up here and open the f***ing door, I swear you will wish that you had never been f***ing born, you son-of-a-b****!"

I winced at his language. I should probably hurry, I thought, patting by back pocket to make sure I still had my gun.

I took a deep breath and opened the door.

I noticed halfheartedly that Mello was tall now. About a foot taller than my 5ft 6in. I had to bend my neck up to see his face.

"What do you want?" I didn't mean for my voice to sound so icy.

He looked angry. Incredibly so. "What the f*** do you think you're doing here?"

I flinched. His tone was biting. "I work here. Would you mind telling me exactly why you're here?" Both of us could feel the unspoken question-Where were you?

He ignored my question. "You weren't supposed to get involved," he hissed.

I opened my mouth to answer, but didn't get a chance as he grabbed my arm and yanked me across the street, and down a couple of blocks. Suddenly he stopped.

He gave me a look that said, clear as day, Stay put. He walked into a nearby bar and vanished. I waited for a few minutes before he stormed back out, pulling someone behind him similarly to how he had tugged me. He stopped in front of me, livid.

"Matt, watch her while I'm with Near." His voice didn't leave any room for questioning. He looked over me for a second as if contemplating something. He took my gun.

"Hey!" I shouted as he disappeared back the way we had came.

"Marie, is that you?" I turned to the man Mello had told to 'watch me'.

I nodded feebly. "Yeah, I guess it is." Matt gave me a wry grin.

"Guess we've got a lot to catch up on, don't we?"

Instead of saying yes, I followed him into the bar.

Chapter 5

Reunion

"So are you, like, suicidal?"

I gaped at Matt. I had just told him a summary of the last two years, and that's all he had to say? I narrowed my eyes.

"No, But I could kill you." He shook his head incredulously.

"You wouldn't dare kill me. Besides, Mello took your gun." Remembering that, I frowned.

"I'm gonna kill Mello….," I muttered. He chuckled.

I glared at him. "What's so funny?"

We were sitting in one of the less smoke-filled booths at the back of the bar. It only had less smoke because I forbid Matt the option to pollute my air. Nasty habit, smoking.

"Never mind. It's nothing." There was a small silence as I waited for him to say more. When he didn't, I spoke.

"So, what've you and Mello been doing?"

Matt smiled. He was never one to tell stories, but this seemed to be one he enjoyed to tell.

"It all started when Mello stormed into my room. He started screaming about how Near always ruins everything and all, until I shut him up. I admit it was my idea to leave. No wait, I said that wrong. It wasn't my idea to leave; Mello would've left anyway. It was my idea to leave and find Kira. Prove that Near was not L's true successor.

"Don't look at me like that, Marie." (I had been glaring at him.) "I'm not done yet. I did want you to come with us. Mello put his foot down there, though. If I thought he was having a fit before….Well, let's just say Mello could put all toddlers to shame. I couldn't do anything to change his mind."

"So, what did you do when you left Wammy's?"

"A better question would be 'What didn't you do?'" He put on a heavy American accent, and I blushed. Did I really sound like that? I had only been in America for a few years…

I shook my head. "Well at least I was born in America. You have a British accent, and you, if I remember right, were born and raised until you were 5 in Spain, Mail."

He frowned. "Don't say that name here. We don't know who could be listening. Why don't we go back to the story at hand?" When I nodded, he continued. "In the beginning, we did odd jobs, whatever came our way. We saved up enough money to send messages to Mello's old family in America. Only after they had sent us tickets an we were on the plane, did Mello bother with telling me who they were." He paused for a dramatic effect.

"Apparently Mello had connections in the Mafia. We got to America a year ago, and Mello's already in a high spot in their rankings. He's been using the mafia to find Kira. Somehow, he's convinced them Kira is a threat."

I didn't know what to think. "It… definitely sounds like something Mello would do."

Matt nodded. "He went a little crazy, you know."

I frowned. "What?"

"He missed you," Matt explained. "He went a little crazy without you to stabilize him."

I was a little flattered and a little confused. "I stabilize him?"

Matt smiled. "Do you remember how when we were at Wammy's we would walk down the hallways and just talk, even if all three of us were supposed to be in classes? And how Mello would always start picking a fight whenever a teacher would tell us to go back to our classrooms?"

I nodded. "What about it?"

"You always stopped Matt when he started getting his violent look about him. If I had ever tried to tell him to give it up like you did, he would've punched me in the face, then proceeded to beat up whoever he was fighting with. But he listened to you. Sure, he would've been all pissy for the next few days, but he would've stopped the fight. In my opinion, Mello's like a time bomb, and no one but you is able to defuse him."

I laughed. "Whatever. I always knew you were crazy. So, what do you think Mel is going to do when he came back? He was pretty mad."

Matt's expression sobered a bit.

"I think he's gonna do one of two things-Either he's gonna kiss you, or start cussing you out. Knowing Mello, I'd lean toward both."

That sent me into near hysterics. I leaned over the booth and gave Matt a hug.

I had really missed my best friend, after all.

Chapter 6

Reality

Mello took 30 minutes to get back. He seemed moderately less mad than before.

I took that to be a good sign. Maybe he wouldn't cuss me out. I really didn't want to fight with him the first time I saw him in two years, but if he started it…

He stood at the end of the table and looked at us for a second.

"Matt. Wait outside in the car. We'll be out in a second." Matt raised his eyebrow in defiance, but went along. As Matt left, Mello took his place, sitting across from me in the booth. He stared at me, scrutinizing the way I was moving. It made me nervous. Finally, he spoke.

"Well, you've grown, haven't you? And you cut your hair." He chuckled. "Still have the same taste in clothing, though." I blushed, automatically looking down to see what I was wearing. I wore a thick cameo army jacket and black skinny jeans. My hair was pulled back in a (really short) ponytail, and I was wearing knee-high combat boots. I frowned.

"What, exactly, is wrong with the way I dress?" I swear I saw Mello's lips quirk up in a minuscule smile.

"Nothing. It's just so… Marie. No one else can even come close."

I smiled. Just a little bit. "So that's your way of saying, 'I missed you'? I think it needs a little work. But, just so you know, I missed you, too."

He gave me a teasing smile. "You missed me? You must be masochistic."

I thought about it for a second, and for some reason that thought sobered me.

"Do you want to know what I missed?" Without giving him a chance to answer, I plunged on. "I missed waking up in the morning and meeting you in the common room. I missed hearing your bitter griping about how you were running out of chocolate when we all knew you still had three boxes left. I miss hearing you go on and on about how Near isn't as good as he thinks he is. I miss hearing that incessant snapping of chocolate. I miss felling triumphant when you smiled, like it was just for me. I miss the way your walls would break down when you thought no one was looking. I miss seeing you wear all those crosses and hearing you pray every night even though you have nothing to be sorry for. I miss those rare moments when I would go to your room and your door was open. I miss feeling like I was intruding when I realized you were praying. But, most of all, I miss those awkward moments when I realized you were praying about me. If that's masochistic, then I am one sick nutter because I miss it all."

He stared at me for a second then got up and sat next to me. He leaned in so his lips were half an inch away from my ear and spoke.

"I could go on and on right now about how I missed every little part of you. And, fact is, I did. But, we might want to get up and continue this conversation somewhere else, considering the fact that people are starting to stare at the underage couple sitting in the back booth." I nodded an followed him when he got up. We left the bar and walked a few minutes until we reached a Wal-Mart parking lot. He immediately located a old beat-up pickup.

"If you value your life, don't insult Matt's car. It's his baby, and he'll tell you the same." I giggled. Same old Matt.