Hey, thanks for deciding to read my story? Its mostly an L vs. BB plot, but a little bit of Kira will be thrown in here and there. The timeline is a little messed up, and I'm sorry about that. Technically the whole BB incident happened around… 5-7 years earlier than the book, and I'm sorry if you don't like stories that aren't right when it comes to the timeline. That's pretty much the only thing that's wrong about it (the timeline). Near is nine, Mello and Matt are eleven.

Pssssttt… I am kind of nervous about this story, so tell me if you like it or I may discontinue…. Thanks.

Disclaimer: I don't own death note.

Please R&R

Now to the story.

Opposites Attract

Life was hard. I learned that young. Love doesn't exist in my world, only hatred and war. The only person I have ever known to be capable of love, was murdered. My mother had loved me, well at least that's what I was told, and that's what I'm going to believe. My mother was murdered when I was three years old. Brutally, at that. I had been the adopted daughter of Backyard Bottomslash.

I was never really bothered by the horror story of my mother. Mainly because nobody had ever taken the time to explain it to me. However, I do remember the killer well, all to well.

His ruby eyes are burned into my soul. I had been in the kitchen, playing with the cereal my bother had lain out for me while she went to blow dry her hair in the bathroom.

Then the man came. He had seemed friendly at first, but I was fooled.

The cereal that was in front of me was oddly intriguing. The flakes kept swirling around whenever I would hit the table hard enough. My mother called to me, telling me to stop playing with my food, and I did. For awhile. When I was sure she had forgotten, I began to play with it again.

I was in the middle of making a tower out of cereal, when the door opened. The door opened slowly and silently, and I assumed it was just my nanny, so I kept playing with my cereal.

I realized something was wrong when I didn't see anybody in the kitchen, or picking up after me. I turned around to see a man, he was dressed in black, but he wasn't wearing a mask. He had black hair, and his skin resembled the porcelain my mother called 'China'.

He seemed equally surprised to see me, he hadn't expected a child with the way Backyard Bottomslash lived her life. He had been trailing her for some time now, and he knew she wasn't dating anyone, and she was a simple bank worker. When he saw me gaping at him, it was his turn to say something.

"Don't worry, I'm only here to take you're mommy. You have plenty of time left, Sanya Okoye."

That's all I remember of the early years of my life. The few years I had experienced real love. When I was born, my birth mother, whose name and face are a mystery to me, gave me up. Then one magical day the saint, also known as Backyard Bottomslash, adopted me.

From ages one to three, I was happy. Backyard's family wasn't too appreciative of me, and they had nothing good to say when she had adopted me, in fact, all they had to say were bad things.

They'd complain about how I had a gene disorder, how my skin was coal black, and Backyard's was porcelain white, how Backyard wasn't married, so there was no way she could take care of me.

Backyard never faltered. She fought tooth and nail for me to be accepted in the family. She tried to explain that my gene disorder was called Alexandria's Genesis, and such a pretty disorder shouldn't even be called a disorder, it should be called a gift. She told them that we didn't need to have the same color skin to be family, and she told them that she didn't need a man to raise a healthy and independent woman.

But, that day never came. When Backyard died, the only people to go to her funeral were me and my nanny. After the funeral I sat on the ground, getting stains all over my best dress, and I tried to will my mommy back to life.

I wanted to lie there forever, it was the closest I would ever get to my beloved mother. The closest I would ever get to hearing her voice again, the closest I would get to feeling my mommy's warm arms hold me against her, to listen to her soft heartbeat…

Too soon, I was whisked away by my nanny and put into a black car to go who knows where.

Eventually I lost count of how many times I had been changed orphanages, how many nights I cried myself to sleep, how many states I had been in. It didn't matter to me. I hadn't talked much since my mommy died, and nobody really seemed to care, or did they want to hear my voice. If someone asked me a question I'd answer it, or if I had something to say, I'd say it. Nobody seemed to understand that.

The orphanage I was currently residing in was a poor one, in an even poorer neighborhood. I had been sitting in my room all day, listening to the children play outside. It was a sunny day, and it felt so good to bask in the sun.

Three barely audible knocks came from outside. I stood up slowly and walked even slower to the door.

Outside stood a small boy, probably the age of five or six. I, myself, am only nine, but I couldn't help but notice how skinny the boy was. I glanced at myself, and I realized that we were all skinny here.

"The matron wants to see you." He said quietly, scurrying down the hallway, desperate to get away from the creepy girl who lived in room three hundred and seven. That's what everyone called me, and I actually found it rather humorous, it made me sound like a horror movie character.

As I walked down the hallway, getting looks of hatred from the other children, I realized that I was beginning to outgrow my clothing. My denim jumper was now an inch shorter than it used to be, and my pink shirt I wore under it was starting to become tight. They were dirt stained, and seemed rather old and ratty. I would have to go see Penny to get another jumper.

I knocked twice on the door and waited for the Matron to tell me to come in, she replied almost instantly, but something about her voice indicated excitement.

"Sit. Sit!" She said with such excitement that I immediately sat down. "We aren't a very fancy orphanage…" She said, pausing to think about how money was stretched thin here. "But, I have arranged a new orphanage for you. A better one. For smart children, just like you! It's called Whammy's House." Her voice turned bitter at the end of her statement.

I looked at her expectantly, hoping she'd take the hint to explain herself. "Sorry, Sanya. This orphanage might be rough for you… This orphanage isn't usually for people like you. Sure they have some odd people, but classes are held in the building, with your peers. You can't avoid people like you do here." I nodded and stood up. I didn't care to hear the orphanage matron call me odd and antisocial. She didn't know me at all. In fact, she was just like everyone else. She avoided me like the plague.

"The car is coming for you in an hour. Sorry about the short notice, but I just received the information as well. Here is the fax." She said, handing me a piece of paper. As I was leaving the office she called after me.

"Go see Penny, get some nicer clothes, you look like a homeless child."

I am homeless. I thought, leaving the office and heading towards Penny's. Penny's room wasn't far from mine. I walked into her room and handed her the fax. She read it at lightning speed and looked at me.

"Ooh. Special opportunities at a smart house, eh? Sounds like something the Grouch would send you to." I just nodded.

"Well, here, let me get you some fresh rags. You can't go entering some fancy-shmancy place like that!" She said grabbing my wrist and dragging me to her closet. She dug out some clothes and I threw them on.

I left her room and went to mine to pack. She didn't seem sad that I was going, just happy for me. Penny was nice, and I felt sorry for her. She got outlawed by the other kids, and even the matron, for being nice to me. I could tell that we wouldn't have ever been good friends, but at least she was nice.

When I got to my room I realized I didn't have anything to pack. I had a teddy bear and my contacts, which I was already wearing.

My contacts were ugly. They were a muddy brown that no one ever paid attention to. It was better than the attention my normal eyes got. Some people said it was a sin to have violet eyes, my mommy had just said that it was a beautiful gift that I should never take for granted.

I took my contacts out and looked at myself in the mirror. Staring into my purple eyes, trying to see something that wasn't there. Maybe if I stared long enough, I could relive my memories with my mom. Then, a sleek black car pulled up. Just like the one I'd been taken away in six years ago. I put my contacts back in and headed outside.

I walked out to gaze at the car. A man, who was very old, got out and opened the passenger side for me. I was about to thank him when I saw the man who would be riding with me. He turned his head, slowly, to meet my gaze.

I wasn't able to breathe. The oxygen caught in my throat and I let out an unbearable choking sound. My face felt wet, and then I realized I was crying. I was backing away from the car, screaming.

"MURDERER!" I heard a someone shriek. Then I found out I was the source of the scream. It didn't sound like me, the sound was guttural, grating, shrill, and scared. I hadn't been scared like this in years.

My first sense to go was hearing. Eventually I couldn't hear a thing. All I could see was his shocked face in the distance and people began to run towards me, thinking I had a psychotic break. Then I couldn't smell or feel anything anymore, I saw myself falling backwards.

Then my vision began to fade, eventually all I could see was his haunting face in the distance. Then, I blacked out.

I felt lost. Everything was dark, I was floating. I couldn't tell which way was up and which way was down. All around me I could see his haunting face, something wasn't quite right though. His eyes… they were a graying shade of blue… and they looked so innocent.

I searched my mind for the picture that I had remembered perfectly, for the past six years. The picture of the man who had killed my mother.

I projected it somehow so I was now staring at what seemed to be two different people.

They were identical in every single way… but one. The killers eyes were ruby red, they were menacing, evil, scary, and he seemed proud of it.

This man… this strange and awkward man, his eyes were a graying shade of blue, and he just seemed tired. He seemed like a good man that was just so tired. But, I won't be fooled. I am sure this is some sort of act. If I can hide my past, and my eyes, so could he.

I stayed silent for awhile. Enjoying the bliss of the darkness, when voices began to come to me in whispers.

"Is she okay?" Came a mans voice, he seemed genuinely concerned.

"Well, no one had ever come to Whammy's unconscious," A lady said, letting out a lighthearted chuckle. "She's malnourished, distraught, but otherwise she seems to be okay. In fact, I bet she can hear us now. She should be waking up soon." She said in a more serious way.

"We aren't sure what happened. She called L a murderer." Came the mans voice again. Who was L?

Then I felt my eyelids flutter, the nurse had predicted it perfectly. The room had light that was so bright it blinded me.

"Why hello there," The man said to me, realizing I was up. He was the same elderly man from earlier. The woman seemed friendly. She was pudgy and was wearing pink scrubs.

"Where am I?" I asked. The walls were white, and everything in here seemed sterile.

"You are in the Whammy's House Infirmary. You passed out earlier." He said, and immediately the memories rushed back. I instinctively pulled my knees to my chest and flung my hands up to my face. "Please don't let him hurt me. Please." I said quietly, whimpering, then I realized. I had been talking a lot lately. I hadn't even opened my mouth for six years, and now I was screaming and telling people that I didn't want him to hurt me.

"What are you talking about, child?" I composed myself quickly, and realized maybe it didn't happen, or something, and that I should try my hardest to stay out of the asylum for smart kids, too.

The next few hours were complicated ones. I had managed to get cleared to leave the infirmary, and now I had to go see the head of the orphanage, also known as Roger, for reasons that I wasn't really sure of.

Roger's office was nice, and the chairs were comfy. He greeted me and I gave a small nod. "We need to discuss your alias, we already have a few, you just need to tell us if their fine. Is Quari alright?"

I nodded, and that's what the meeting consisted of. Really interesting, I know. I think he was just concerned that I might be crazy and wanted to see me in person to see if I could really harm anybody.

I walked to the library to see if it would have anything interesting. The past few orphanages I had been at didn't have a library, and I was excited to see this one's. We were in England, which I recently found out, and that the building was rather large.

I wanted to shriek with excitement when I saw the library. They had separate floors for fiction and nonfiction! Most of the people I knew before would tell me how big of a nerd I am, but now I was amongst other nerds, so for once, I could be myself.

I was walking through the shelves of the books, touching each one of them, trying to find a good book. I had the biggest smile on my face, because libraries made me forget about my troubles.

Then I stopped when I saw a book. To Kill a Mockingbird had been the only book my mother had ever read to me.

I felt tears well up in my eyes but I took the book off the shelf anyway and began to page through it. Eventually I began to laugh, realizing what a big bi-polar baby I was.

"Hey! There's a meeting going on over here, keep it down." Came a voice from across the room. I turned my head to see a blonde boy about my age chomping on a chocolate bar, clearly annoyed.

"Oh, I didn't notice, I'm sor-" I looked at the people he was with. There was a boy with red-brown hair who wore goggles, a white haired albino boy, who in my opinion was very strange, and lastly, my eyes fell upon him.

He was staring at me with cautioned interest, and he seemed to be trying to gauge my reaction. Without warning I shrieked and began to run away. I soon found out there was no way to go without running into him.

He was my worst nightmare come to life. He had taken the life of my mother. And me? I'm only nine. I'm scared.

I tripped over tables and chairs, trying to jump over things, and then I saw the safest place. A table that was in the corner. I quickly got under it and covered my face, pulling my knees up to my chest.

Then I sobbed, I turned hysterical and felt like I wanted to sit there for hours, maybe the rest of my life. The only word I could think of was mommy. I called for my mommy like a five year old, begging for her to come save me. She never did.

To be honest, I kind of did this story on a whim, so tell me if you like it, or it might be discontinued for some time.

Thanks for reading.

Til' Next Time,

Sastars429