Disclaimer: I do not own deathnote. Fan made.

*I haven't written in a long time. This story is actually dedicated to my amazing friend Syph-chan, whose birthday was today. (What an old hag ;D)

So HAPPY BIRTHDAY SYPH! I hope you enjoy this story and the chapters that are to come as well as all the people who also read it. Reviews are appreciated.

Enjoy!

"It's raining…"

The train heading towards Asakabashi Station moved steadily along despite the sudden downpour that had started about half an hour ago, ricocheting tens of hundreds of tiny water pellets against the hard, outer titanium covering of the 5:45 PM ride. Young children shrieked as they played with their stuffed toys on the train seats, their mothers absorbed in conversation dealing with the new sales being advertised during the commercial breaks of their afternoon soap operas. Students from the local high schools made up most of the passengers with uniforms clashing, but, distributing hints of needed color to the blur of people in the narrow space. Sounds of gossip and laughter carried through the air were joined by the obnoxiously loud chatter of businessmen on their up-to-date cell phones, desperately trying to juggle documents and folders in the crooks of their arms while miraculously keeping up with the dialogue on the other line. The standardization and lack of color in their monochrome suits complemented the melancholy of the rain nicely.

Amongst all of this commotion, a few scatterings of college students on their way home from an exhausting day of higher learning slumped against the walls or sat on the worn leather seats of the areas closest to the automatic doors, most anxious to escape the high noise and suffocation of the train and its inhabitants as soon as they were given the chance.

"…A mysterious rise in deaths this week…most of the notorious criminals in the area of Tokyo found dead…jail house deaths also increased…most labeled heart attacks…some suicide…Authorities are on the lookout for a connection to these new discoveries…Stay tune for more coverage…and now here's Saito-san with the weather forecast for Wednesday…", Mikami Teru continued to watch the ten dusty, antennae T.V. screens displayed in the window of the old electronics store blare out the amount of money won by a Megumi Yuki, the new hit movies coming out this weekend and what number they are expected to rank in the box office, and how grocery store prices keep spike, spike, spiking up. After deciding that the most important segment of the 10:00 news was over and that it would most likely not be revisited again soon, Mikami continued on his way to the apartment complex he has been living in for the past 3 years as he attends the Japanese version of the American Harvard Law school. His arms were full of books from the school's library, which he had just spent 6 hours studying in, along with countless papers and a variety of writing utensils. His black shoulder length hair covered the black ball point pen held by his right ear and his long, shaggy bangs rested neatly above his dark eyes. The streetlights were the only illumination aside from the forgotten store window and the occasional cars' headlights, lighting the sidewalk path.

Mikami Teru's eyes looked forward into the empty street up ahead.

"Some people are finally getting what they deserve…after all…"

He sat near the back, pressed up against the wide side windows which bordered the seats on both parallel sides of the train. Dressed in a simple striped cardigan of black, his gaze never altered from the window in front of him. His black rimmed glasses would be pushed up by one of his long, slender fingers while the other hand would be resting on his lap, holding down the scribbled papers and books he needed for the class he had that day.

The limited area increased in room as the 5:45 PM ride made its required stops at the corresponding stations along the way, providing exit to the assortment of passengers so they could continue on routinely, while also opening its doors to new ones just joining. With this on coming throng came a few first years from the local high school of that area's district. They playfully pushed and shoved each other, each towering about 5'8 and wearing their white and black uniforms in a relaxed manner. At this point, the train had been nearly emptied, the noise level having dropped to mere murmurs here and there. As the boys entered, their horsing around and lewd jokes echoed throughout the circular structure, disrupting the quiet thread that had nestled around the remaining passengers before. They sat for a while, smearing their faces into the window as to make disfigured looks at the people bustling across the platform. One boy in particular got up, leaving the others sticking their tongues out against the glass, to walk over to a younger boy sitting alone a few feet across them. He seemed to have been reading a manga, so thoroughly into whatever action was happening at that moment that he didn't notice the other boy grab him by his hair until he was already being yanked down onto the carpeted floor. The boy yelped in pain and surprise while adjusting himself on his knees, but the attacker just simply roused his friends to join him in his new activity.

"Check out this loser. What the hell are you reading? Pokémon?"

One of the uniformed boys took the book, using it to roughly slap the younger boy across the face.

"What a fag," laughed the first boy, still holding him by a hand full of his black hair. His hand pulled back, forcing the younger boy's forehead to stretch and his face to contort from the pressure of the pull.

"Heh, bet this baby still takes baths with his dad too." The boys laughed in unison, too involved in their teasing to notice the figure walking towards them.

"Forget that…this kid looks like he might still need to wear diapers. Look at his face," the fatter of the boys leaned into the victim's face. His breath reeked of McDonald's mixed with some ass.

"You look like your about to shit your pa---"

He felt a hand on his shoulder, large with the fingers digging into the soft flabby skin like a spider biting its prey.

Without turning around the boy started to say "Don't fucking touch-", but then Mikami Teru spun him around so fast he got motion sickness and had to reach out to grab a nearby support pole. He looked him straight in the eye.

The boys let go of the younger boy soundlessly, backing away towards the automatic doors with their eyes locked on the one who interrupted their fun. The fat one did a walk skip over to the others, his shoulder tingling a bit from where Mikami's hand had previously laid.

Luckily for them, the train had arrived at one of its stops, lurching them slightly forward as it came to a halt. They scampered out as quickly as they could, pushing against the other people who were getting off at a slower speed. As soon as a few feet of distance was put in between the train and their current position near the newspaper stands, the first years felt confident enough to shout back phrases like "Fuck you!", "Asshole!", and the tough guy "I dare you to try that again, you old motherfucker. Touch me again and see how I'll cut your fingers off with my fucking pen!"

Mikami Teru sat back down as the doors closed; gathering the papers he had flung against his seat during the unplanned interference. The loudspeaker announced that their last stop in Asakabashi Station would soon be coming up and for the passengers to make sure not to leave any of their belongings as they have a nice day. Mikami shuffled his papers into a neat pile and stuck them into the textbook he was carrying. He reached below his seat for his knapsack, stuffing everything he had been cradling into its respective pockets in an orderly fashion. His dark eyes picked up movement from the last row of seats on the opposite end of the train. Mikami switched his attention to the window, deciding to count the raindrops that slide by while his pulse returned to normal. The movement turned into a figure, and as the figure got closer, it became obvious that it was heading straight for Mikami, though he still would not remove his glance from the drops.

"I don't feel like being called a pervert today…" Mikami thought, as he reviewed what the scene with the school boys might have appeared to look like to a passerby. He placed his elbow on the windowsill, resting his chin in his palm as he prepared himself for some unneeded interaction with an appalled rider, trying to seem like he was immensely absorbed in whatever was happening outside the glass to the point that he couldn't be bothered with something trivial.

The figure stopped in front of Mikami's small piece of seats for a brief second, before sitting down directly next to him. Their arms brushed as the other found a comfortable sitting position on the creaking leather. By now the train had maybe ten to twenty people scattered throughout its entire length, some quietly chatting while others involving themselves with their digital device of choice.

He cleared his throat.

"Not many people would step into a situation like that."

The voice was strong, with an underlying tone of command among the charismatic lilt. Its owner was a young man, his hair a light copper brown that was neatly cut to frame his face which complemented the hazel eyes that were intently sizing Mikami's profile. He had a dark green long sleeve shirt on with an average pair of jeans, a style many teenagers wore as a go-to preference over the older, buttoned down looks. Resting by his leg was a backpack, and in his hand was a bitten apple.

"Most people don't like to get involved."

Mikami slowly turned his head to meet the man's eyes, deciding that maybe a chilling stare would give him the message that he did not wish to continue this conversation.

He stopped as soon as they met.

"My name is Yagami Light. I saw what you did and I applaud you for it." Light smiled in a friendly way, his face brightening as his lips curved. His eyes displayed a glow that seemed to throw off Mikami, who internally stumbled to regain his thoughts. Light extended his hand.

Mikami hesitantly reached out his own hand to grasp the outstretched one that hovered before him. As their hands made contact, a slight buzz went through him. His eyes followed up the hand, along the arm, up the forearm, across the shoulder and clavicle…until it passed his lips, nose…

Their eyes held.

The automatic doors swished open, the loudspeaker announcing that they have reached their last stop at Asakabashi Station.