BB always wondered if he ever noticed him. The silent boy waiting in the back of his mind, ripping and .scratching at the common label of insanity and normality, the fine line of opposites that drive even the most logistical people to a world of death and destruction. Yes, he had always been like this, overwhelmed with the rush of names, numbers, rushing past him with the days and seconds left of these pitiful lives people fought so hard to protect and continue when really there was no way to get past them. Death.
Everyone faces death at some point in time. He just happened to lend a helping hand. Oh well. It's who he was. He couldn't see his own numbers, couldn't see the name "Beyond Birthday" floating just above him, its red aura cast the same as every other freaking person in this world. No… he was special though. He had to be. He was almost like a Shinigami within his own right wasn't he? Yes; that had to be it. He was like a Shinigami; it was why he had been born with these unexplainable eyes.
It didn't bother him though, nope, not one bit. He was ignored, discarded. A failure; but no, B isn't right, even though he looks like L, he talks like L, he eats like L, he walks like L, he thinks like L. NO HE DESERVED TO BE L! You'd never know how his thoughts raged and his mind swirled with murderous intentions just by looking at him though. No, he seemed as normal as L was. He was a socially retarded genius with no care for the average human; or anyone else for that matter.
Wait, no, that's wrong. Beyond Birthday did care for another person, he cared for him deeply. L was like the moon, the perfect piece to complete the darkness that dwelled within him, but he would never reach. Chuckling quietly to himself he straightened some, his shoulders still sloping downwards to the floor as he walked in long but slow and awkward steps, jerking his limbs to move the way he wished to.
Light blue jeans swished along as he walked, catching on the carpets fibers and tickling the skin of B's feet. It felt perfect when people skirted around him, trying to get away from the scent of blood and strawberry jam. The blood wasn't real though, not until much later in Beyond's life would he have come into contact with blood of his own accord. The scent people claimed he had of this so called blood must have been purely psychological, according to everyone he had observed; it was his eyes that seemed to make him have that copper scent to him. No, that was just what they thought, Birthday had beautiful eyes, he told himself that constantly. It let him see things others would never, and it was natural for him. Like he knew that the brunette boy passing him now with that look of rushed worry would be dying in three days. Who knew from what though?
He stopped. There was someone in his way, with toes curled just like his, gripping the carpet fibers as faded denim gathered in wrinkled rolls and ripples at his ankles and caressed the tops of his feet. Scarlet eyes traveled upwards, taking in the wrinkled white long sleeved shirt just like his, and the naturally wide black eyes, so dark a pupil existed not. Hair spiked in sleepless points, this way and that, just strange enough to look natural. And that skin, it was so pale that he was able to liken it to the moon, bright and perfect, milky in complexion. Though it had was his skin lacked, the shine of health.
Cocking his head to the side with a wide and sly smirk BB shrugged. "It's like looking in a mirror, L."