Author's Note: First of all, I don't own Death Note. This idea is based loosely on an iMVU group. Any questions about that, just ask.
Second of all, the events in the story take place as if the events of Death Note didn't happen. Again, any questions just ask.
Last, read, enjoy, or don't, and review.
1 - The Tokyo Detective Agency
The Tokyo Detective Agency was founded in 2002 by the greatest detective the world had ever known. He gathered the world's greatest detectives and The Agency quickly became the world's most successful detective group.
Then he joined The Agency.
The man behind the reception desk looked at the applicant skeptically. It wasn't the man's bizarre clothes, though they surely wouldn't help his interview chances. It wasn't his unkempt, unwashed hair, though they wouldn't help either. It was the look on the man's face. The man behind the reception desk couldn't take his eyes off the applicant's face.
It was the face of a murderer.
"Excuse me. Aren't you going to sign me in?"
"Huh? Oh, right. Your name?"
The applicant hesitated. He thought it over for a minute. He thought for another minute. Another minute went by.
The applicant appeared lost in thought. "Sir, your name?" The man behind behind the reception desk was getting annoyed now. "If you can't figure out your own name, I don't think you'll make a very good detective."
The applicant was getting nervous. He didn't show it, that was his specialty, but he was nervous. He did the only thing he could think of... He drew his weapon.
I should mention at this point that the applicant didn't have a name. At least, he didn't have one that he could remember. He didn't think he could keep his secret from L for very long. He didn't think he any other option than to draw his pistol.
Also, he was a murderer. He was just so good at being a detective, that he always managed to pin the blame on someone else. He was so good at being a detective, he rivaled L.
The man behind the reception desk was speechless. This man, who was applying to join the elite detectives, had just pointed a pistol at him. "Sir...?"
"You don't need to know my name."
"Sir... I think we can do this in a more civilized way."
The applicant glared. Civilized. That man dared to use that word. The applicant cocked the pistol.
"Sir?! We can talk this out! We can-" The man never finished that sentence. In the time it took for the man to finish his first sentence, the applicant had applied a silencer to his gun. The applicant had shot the man before he finished his second.
The applicant wrote a name down on the sign-in paper and stashed the body where nobody find it. That was his other specialty. It was his knack for hiding the bodies that bought him enogh time to frame someone else. He cleaned the blood up and sat to wait for his idol.
A young man was staring out his office window at nothing in particular. He was crouching forward, as if he couldn't stand up straight if his life depended on it. He had long, unkempt black hair. He was wearing jeans and a wrinkled, long-sleeved shirt. He was not wearing socks inside of his sneakers.
He was unprofessional.
He was also waiting. He was waiting for the clock to strike three. He grew bored of the outside and turned to look at his office. He only glanced at the small, square, wooden "L" on his desk before growing bored of his office. He looked at the clock. "Damn..." It was only two...
The young man was known simply as "L." He had founded The Agency, as it was known for short, three before the applicant arrived. In those three, short years, he had managed to recruit the world's greatest detectives and had actually managed to lower crime all over the world. Right from their only base in Tokyo. But there was one case that had been nagging him for a long time.
Only a year ago, he had caught on to a man who was killing people and blaming it on others. L had decided to call it the "Pass the Blame" Murders. Naming cases wasn't his strong suit, nor was it of any concern. All he cared about was solving them.
Only, he couldn't solve this one. Some bastard had the nerve to challenge the great L. That same bastard had the nerve to be beating him.
The clock finally struck three and L walked out to meet the applicant. He stepped out to the reception area and noticed something was wrong. "Where's the receptionist?"
The applicant replied, a little too quickly. "His said his shift was over and nobody would be in until 4."
"I see." His shift is noon - 6pm and he's our only receptionist on weekends. Something's not right. L shook the thought from his mind and admitted the applicant into his office.
Shortly after the two men sat down, at 3:12pm on Saturday August 14, 2006, all Hell broke loose.
Author's Note: I'll add more after I get any reviews, positive or negative.
And, if it's short I am sorry.