These are going to be the last of my notes. The last of my trilogy of published works, though I'm sure the only person who will ever see any of this literature is Near. I feel no guilt in revealing any names in this work, as such – Nate River, also known as Near. Since I have just revealed my rival's name, I shall now incriminate my own. Here. On this very page. I am Mello, also known as M, or my birth name, Mihael Keehl.

You see, Near and I are working together – so to speak – on the Kira investigation, and in being involved in such a dangerous case, I'm positive it will be my last. It will take me a while to compile these notes, so I wanted to sift through them now and begin this composition – but first, as my final achievement, I want it to be recorded in history that, aside from L, I was the first person to solve the Kira case. I always have come second to Near, but in writing down the perpetrator's name here, it proves I've solved the case first.

Light Yagami.

Enough of my incessant rambling about the Kira investigation, as these notes are not about Kira, nor do I have enough time to narrate this story. Either way, I shall make it my last vow to write down this piece in full.

So first, I must introduce the topic of this matter. A. If ones knows anything about Wammy's House in Winchester, England, it would likely only be that Wammy's was an orphanage. What that person wouldn't know is that it is an orphanage and school for gifted children around the world, that only takes in twenty six students every generation, and that they all basically compete to become the next L (L is, of course, the world's greatest detective).

Anyway, A was the first child at Wammy's. A stood for alternate, or alternative – much like L stands for leader, last or lost one, N stands for next, and B for backup. A was first in line to succeed L, but could not handle the pressure, and committed suicide – at least that was the popular belief. Now, I could go on speculating what one, or any plethora of reasons, reason could be for A ending his life, the pressure is just the common belief. Instead, I will start at the beginning of the story.

A, AA or Adrienne Adrenaline, was the first orphan at Wammy's. A, like most of us, had an obsession. No it wasn't chocolate, jam, sweets, or toys, but blood – pain – and gambling.

When A was very young, his father was a sadist, his mother had died in labor. A's father had moved up through the ranks of the military, but during a session with a psychologist to test his mental health and competence, they found some unpinpointable malady, and he was let go. Upon this notification, A's father began to torture anything, his dog, cat, a bird – even A if there was nothing else available. Though one day a game of Russian Roulette went very "wrong," and A's father ceased to exist. A few days later, Watari, or Quillish Wammy, found A.

Being the first child at Wammy's, he had the chance to meet L.

Adrienne sat in Roger's office, nervous to meet his predecessor. He sat on the brown leather chair in front of Roger's desk; his feet were on the chair, his knees drawn to his chest. Adrienne's thumb found its way into his mouth, like a child, but he bit down on it, hard, drawing blood.

He turned quickly when he heard the door in the office corner. In walked Watari, and another boy, roughly the same age. The boy with Watari stood straight and had a mop of black hair. He wore messy jeans, and a faded gray shirt, his feet bare. The child took a step toward A and studied him. A had soft, choppy black hair. It looked dirty; he also wore his own light gray fleece shirt. L noted his navy sweatpants with gaping holes, tears, and fray.

L's shoulders were hunched slightly forward as he slouched over to A. He held out his hand ever so slightly.

"I am L." he said in his, obviously, higher pitched monotone.

To A, it seemed as though L was holding his emotions in. He reached and took L's hand to, presumably, shake it. Instead, to A's surprise, he pulled A to his feet with surprising force, "come with me."

A's eyes were wide, L guided A through the dull off-white walls of the institution known as Wammy's House. It wasn't until L reached the end of one of the boring, uniform halls, that he stopped. The hall was empty. There were no doors on either side of the hallway, but L walked to the dead end, and began to systematically drum his fingers over some unseen keypad in the wall. It faded away – the wall slid to the side. The wall had been seamless, he never would have guessed. Behind the wall, there was a staircase, which L proceeded to climb.

"Follow." He commanded.

A was obedient, and trailed along behind L like a lost puppy.

He stood, lost, as the other boy crouched awkwardly in front of a computer. It was a strange manner in which to sit – so to speak. He had his knees drawn to his chest, and would actually be on the floor if it weren't a mere centimeter between him and the floor. Upon closer observation, the room looked much like an attic. High walls, ceilings with large mahogany beams running from wall to wall, white washed walls and smooth wooden floors.

"Wh-why am I here?"

"You are here so that one day, you may succeed me."

A stared at L confused. L stood up and pointed to the floor, indicating that he expected A to take his place.

"Start reading through this case file, then you can start work on this computer. Form your list of suspects." A thick manila folder was dropped in front of Adrienne as he scrambled to get to work.