(Near/OC)
Hey all, well here we are: my very first Death Note fic
In which, I'm happy to say, I've pre-written the first four chapters; an incredible feat for me
let's get on with it, shall we?
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Unexpected Diversions
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Chapter 1/Introduction
The Reign of L Commences
With a final comforting whiz, a sleepy beep, and a series of flickering lights before the final extinguishing, the central computer system shut down. He watched as statistics and profiles and theories and evidence terminated before him on the silver boxes, fading to a non-descriptive gray and faint buzzing before turning black. Five years of hard work, perseverance, late nights, early mornings and twenty-three Lego sets later, the screen's constant flicker ceased, and black took over.
Because it was over.
Because it was finished.
And just like that, after five long, hard years, Nate River left the empty headquarters, a stray sheet of blank paper crumpled on the floor, last week's cardboard coffee cup still hiding dejectedly in the trash. Eerie quiet enveloped the once electrified room, the ghosts of the dead and living haunting the empty chairs and dark corners.
The last ghost to leave, clad from head-to-toe in blinding white, exited the hollow room without a glance over his limp shoulder.
The last of the temperamental lights switch off, and the building was locked securely by security until who-knows-when.
Because finally, Kira had been caught and restrained, and Light Yagami is dead.
The sleek, black car that constantly smelt of peppermints and scotch was waiting two blocks away, at the assigned time, in the assigned position, with the assigned driver, waiting for the infamous, assigned passenger to hurry in.
Needless to say, though, said passenger never, ever hurried.
Three minutes and twenty-four seconds later, Nate River slid into the backseat of the long, black box, in his opinion, just in time. Like he always was. He managed a smirk.
The car's engine roared to life and the headlights illuminated the narrow street in front of them. With a tap to the accelerator, the car was off, traveling toward nowhere but the future.
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Crime is a tiring thing, though it itself never tires out.
No matter how acutely the world walked in fear of the unidentifiable Kira - well, unidentifiable to anyone but him – it didn't take them long to soon realize that the higher power has mysteriously vaporized, and faster than you can say I am Justice, the old ways returned; stealing and hurting and killing and lying, because no amount of intimidation, no matter how ominous, can outweigh the effects of human nature for long.
He doubted Kira was even cold in his grave before the wave of crime started up again, and the world remembered it enjoyed the decaying mass it claimed to call the human race.
So, just like that, Nate River; Near; N, found himself swamped with job propositions to fight justice for good. To take the place of L; to be the clouded figure walking the earth with the sword of justice in one hand, the latest child's puzzle in the other. Even the FBI somehow managed to forget their own volunteered disassociation with the successors of L, and had been sending through faxes every day, on the hour, of invitations for him to join them in their fight.
Naturally, he hid.
He is no coward, though, thank you very much. Merely cautious. Light Yagami may be buried ten foot under, yet how many of his blind followers are seeking their revenge?
So, as he sat in the back of the well-polished, old-fashioned, black car, that smelt like peppermints (no doubt contributed by the former L), and scotch (most likely from the L before L) he could only sit idly and wonder what his own successor would smell, sitting in this very same spot, wondering about the boy who called himself N, then L, then dead, and if the curious smell of scotch, peppermints, and plastic belonged to him.
His fingers itched to build something, construct something, play with something, but as it had been advised, his personal items would be traveling separately. Thus, he resorted like he often did to twirling a white lock of hair around his finger, the digit pulling at the strands almost painfully. He didn't wince, though – that would only be highly illogical.
Where was he going? Only the driver knew, and it would stay that way, Near was sure of it. He would continue to work on cases he was personally interested in for the time being, but nothing further. And he would work on them alone, just as L had previously done, unless assistance was absolutely required, of course.
Which he very much doubted.
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Arriving at the warehouse, Near inspected it from the comfort of the backseat, with all the necessities of level heating and leather seats, and felt a rush of deja vu. The warehouse itself seemed to be an enlarged version of the small, red houses in his Monopoly set, only far more run-down and imposing, although, he had to admit to himself, it may have only seemed that way through the rain-streaked glass of his window.
A single entrance paved the way inside, the paint flaking off it's metallic glory, an entrance into what Near was certain hell itself looked like. But it did not matter either way – only he was going to be residing in it, and only he would feel the distinct similarities between this warehouse and the one he brought Kira down in every time he walked through it; not necessarily a bad thing, if he felt like gloating over his triumphant victory, yet it would be no pleasant experience, either. As far as he was concerned, N; Near; Nate River died in that warehouse alongside Mikami; his identity lost with Kira's.
Now, here next to this shell of a warehouse, in this shell of a town, was the shell of Near.
And only L lived in that shell now. Near was gone. L's reign had officially commenced.
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first chapter.
Warning: by rule, I don't like to rush things, especially relationships. Patience is a virtue, my dear friends. Our OC may be appearing about chapter 3, though there'll be plenty of mystery to entertain you till then (I hope)
A/N: (love that acronym, by the way) More chapters will be up very soon, so keep checking back!
Traditional bribery: your thoughts, friends? Press the button. It's begging to be pushed.