Okay, so this here's my first fanfiction that I'm even slightly proud of. If you want to see my horrible work, I have some over on Wattpad. But read at your own risk.
Google's definition of requiem: an act or token of remembrance.
And if you're smart cookies, you'll have noticed that this is the first requiem. Meaning that there will be more for various (dead) characters of various anime/stories/movies.
Sorry. That was slightly patronising. So, enjoy before I do/ type something I regret.
There's a flash of lightning, a crack of thunder, as a man walks into the darkened bar, shaking water out of his blue-tinted black hair. With a strangely casual gait for someone who had just gotten out of a raging storm, he strolled to the bar, sitting next to a man who looked as though he hadn't slept his entire life, and stayed indoors the entire time. As he sat, he noticed the sound of bells in the distance.
The black haired man waved the waitress over, ordering peppermint tea and a bowl of soup. The two ate in silence, listening to the faint ringing of bells.
As the spoon clinked against the bottom of the bowl for the last time, the man leaned back, glancing over at the other man, who seemed to have his entire attention on the strawberry cake in front of him. This was proven wrong, however, when the man looked up at a sudden question.
"I'm curious. How'd you die?"
"My first friend killed me," was the blank response, as if they were merely talking about the weather.
The man sucks in a breath through clenched teeth, as though horrified, and shakes his head as if annoyed.
"That's... fairly horrible."
The paler man shrugged as though indifferent. "I expected it to happen."
"And that makes it better?!" There's disbelief, and the annoyance deepens to anger.
"...Yes."
"Has anyone ever told you that your social skills suck?"
"Yes."
"Well then, I guess I should too."
"Your social skills suck more than Justin Beiber's singing, and that is saying something."
"Who is this Justin Beiber you speak of?"
"Oh, right. You died before his rise to fame. He's a singer popular with teenage girls."
"Ah."
"So, how's the world of the dead treating you?"
"Well."
The man finished off his tea before walking toward the exit. Stopping behind the raven-haired man, he smirked before whispering.
"You won, L. Remember that. We'll meet again, as we always seem to do. Goodbye, old friend."
"Old friend? I don't believe we've met before."
The man snorts "Well of course. It'd be hard to remember the dead when you're alive."
"What?"
"Nothing, nothing. Now, it's time for me to go."
A pale hand snatches a darker wrist, preventing the other from leaving.
"You will answer my question."
The darker man heaves an exasperated sigh before leaning down next to L's ear.
"I am what came before, what was gone before and what will always be before. For the father comes before the son."
And the man continued on his way toward the door as he reached the door with a final smirk and wave, he departed.