At first there was darkness, that's all. Nothing but the inside of a crowded cupboard. My legs bent uncomfortably, squashed in between a doll's house and a pram. Occasionally a child would come to the cupboard, pick out a toy, and we wouldn't see him or her any more. Sometimes they would throw a toy back into the cupboard. I was at the bottom of the pile. No one wanted to play with a strange looking teddy bear, with different sized buttons as eyes, a mouth in an almost frown. No. I used to hope and hope a child would come and play with me, but no one ever came.
When we were first in that old store cupboard we used to talk. That's how I found out where I was. Quilish Wammy's orphanage for talented children. Talented children didn't have much time for toys. The longer we sat in this cave of despair, the more tired we became. Slowly we stopped speaking to each other, we had no energy left to do so. One by one my friends, the other toys disappeared, taken to play with the children. Yet I stayed here. No one wants an old bear like me, with a faded ribbon around my neck, stuffing coming out. No one had wanted me when I was new, no one even named me. And now, there were so many new toys on top of me, no one would even look at a disgruntled old bear.
One day, a long time ago now, I was awoken from my sleep, torn from my dream of being a child's companion. It had been a while since old Watari had opened the large oak door. It creaked like a witch's hollow squeal, and opened suddenly, flooding us with light. The toys were excited, but I wasn't. Many times had the door opened before, and each time my hopes raised, but no, children wanted Cindy doll's and action figures, not me. They wanted new exciting toys. I settled myself down to sleep once more, but found myself being shaken by the toys above me moving.
"How about this one?" Watari, I know his voice.
"No..."
"Ok, this one?"
"No, it has mean eyes." I hoped the child was talking about one of the dolls, a spiteful one, that lived in the cupboard prison with me.
"This one?" Watari's voice was getting closer.
"No, can I have him?" I felt myself being picked up, I opened my eyes. A raven haired boy was holding me, by the leg may I add, but holding me all the same. His wide innocent eyes looked up hopefully at Watari, shadows circling them made him seem panda like, but he wanted me all the same. "Please sir? Please may I have him?"
Watari looked doubtfully at me, as if debating with himself. "Oh you don't want him, he's old, and dirty." He said, the insult, I wasn't dirty, dusty maybe, but not dirty.
"Oh I do, I do." He shook me vigorously. "Look he's not dirty any more." Watari sighed.
"Ok, you have him L."
With that my new owner, my new friend, took me by the leg, again, and thanking Watari quickly, ran with me to his room.
L's room was small. To say the least. A bed in one corner, a wardrobe, and chair that acted like a bedside table. He sat me down at his bed, and started talking quickly.
"This is my room, do you like it? You'll be living with me now k'?" He asked. "Course it's ok. You're going to be my friend. Aren't you?" he nodded, convincing himself. He couldn't have been more than three of four. "What's your name ay? I know, you're going to be Willoughby. You like that name?" He laughed.
From that moment on, I became L Lawliet's constant companion. I went everywhere with him. To nursery then to school, to meals, even in the bath. It was fun, being L's best friend, but it was sad. L didn't have any real friends. I mean, I know, that most of the children had toys as their best friends, but L didn't have any human friends. Only me. I didn't mind though, it meant that I had his full attention, all for me. He was always there for me, I was always there for him. He would carry me about with him, in a strange way. Holding me by the leg, my furry head banging along the floor, bouncing off the different steps one by one. He would hold my foot in between his thumb and finger. One morning, as I sat watching him get ready for breakfast he said something to me. Something that worried me.
"Oh, I can't take you with me today." He looked at my sad face, and chose to explain. "I'm sorry Willoughby kun, but I can't. Today I start my lessons properly. I can't take you with me." He sighed. "I'm sorry, but I'll come and tell you all about it after school. I promise I'll do that every day."
That was the first day L went anywhere without me. He had never done something like it before, it was always me and him, him and me. He never went on his own, ever. But today he did. As he left the room, he looked back at me, and promised not to forget me. I trusted him though, L would never let me down.
He kept his promise. He came back from lessons, telling me the most wonderful tale, of what he'd learnt, of the people he'd met. He didn't seem very fond of them, one had commented on him looking like a panda, secretly I agreed, but I didn't say anything. L was eight years of age by this point. And slowly starting to grow up.
In the weeks that followed, as they turned to months, L started distancing himself from the world. He stopped talking to me quite so much, but he still did occasionally. Everything was work. No time for his old friend, no time for new friends either. I wouldn't have minded if he'd substituted me for real human beings, but no, he substituted me for a calculator and work. L solved his first case that year, he was so proud. He came and told me about it, I hugged him, showing how proud I was of him. Don't think he really noticed, but ah well. I was proud of him. As he grew up, he turned into a fine young man. Intelligent.
But the older L got, the more he forgot about me. By the time he reached 13 I no longer lived on his bed, but on the chair beside it. As the days passed he forgot about me. Stopped talking to me completely, and slowly as the days turned into weeks clothes, papers stationary covered the chair. Burying me, hiding me from my L. I longed for the days he relied on me. The days he needed my companionship. But he didn't need me anymore. I couldn't help him. I'd watch as he came and went, growing up. Becoming more and more independent, anti social. His friends were cases, work, numbers and letters. He wasn't the little boy I'd known, all he was now was a detective.
L spent longer and longer awake each day, the shadows under his eyes became darker and darker. He spent longer and longer in his room, locked away from the world. He always wore his mask of no emotion, even when he was alone with me. But I had seen him cry, and laugh. I had, I had seen the famous L cry. But I can't speak, so it's not like I could tell anyone.
I knew that L had to leave me one day. He was growing up. But he was still here. He still came into his broom cupboard size room, still studied here, sitting on the tiny bed. He still lived with me, and although he had forgotten about me, I could still watch him. I watched him grow in front of me, I felt proud of him. He wasn't a child any more, he had become a wonderful man. I knew his future was bright, he had so many opportunities, he would be great. He already had a reputation for being the world's greatest detective, and only 17.
I knew something was different the day he left. I sensed something. L came into the room, and he seemed grave, as if he was attending a funeral. Bag in his hand, he slowly lifted things into it. It wasn't the first time he'd gone away. He often went away, but he always came back. looking around the room, he packed all that he would need delicately. Then dropped the bag on the floor and flopped onto his bed. He gulped, swallowed, as if he wanted to speak but couldn't. Then he noticed me, for the first time in months.
"Hello, I'd forgotten you old friend." He spoke differently to his recent monotone. He spoke with care. "Look at me, talking to an inanimate object. Trust me to have a friend in one too." He laughed, and sighed. "I'm leaving this place now. Not coming back. Some might say I'm glad to get out of here, I am, but I'm kinda sad to leave. You understand don't you?" He sighed again, ridiculing himself for talking to a stuffed toy. "Course ya do. I'll miss this place, I'll miss you." He laughed once more.
Standing up to leave he looked around once more. I'm sure he said something under his breath. Muttered to himself. I'll miss you, I'm sure he said that. I want to believe he said that. With that L left, and he never came back. He left me. To grow up, and to get on with his life.
