A/N 1: Okie dokie. First off I want to say that writing this was extremely odd for me, being that I usually can't stand romance, especially between OCs and canons in fanfiction. And yet I had this idea thanks to two songs playing in my head at the same time (my brain is like an un-tuned radio sometimes). This is the first thing even slightly romantic that I have ever written, so bear with me XD Basically, the whole idea of the story is based on the idea that B had had any sort of romance before and during the time of the LA BB Murder Cases (he didn't seem the sort at all, though, I know). So, meet Lucille (or Lucy), telling her story from her own point of view. (She isn't all that important though. I think of this story as more of an analysis of B) Spoiler warning.
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note… etc etc. And I'm not all the concerned with Lucy, even though I do own her.
I never did understand him, Ryuzaki… B, I mean. His whole character seemed out of the ordinary from the moment I saw him. Everything about him was so strange, and the way he seemed to look out at the world was almost haunting. In fact, it always seemed as though there was this part of him that was hidden so deep within him that he didn't even seem to be aware of it; yet I saw it so clearly beneath everything else I couldn't touch. I don't even remember how we met… most of the time we spent together is fuzzy, stuck somewhere in the back of my mind because perhaps I just don't want to face what I lost. I lost so little in the aspect of B, yet so much more of me went with him… given away piece by piece without my even being aware of it. The parts of myself I may have valued most, as well as the feelings I may have found too painful or overwhelming to deal with. Maybe I'd expected him to stay near me longer, and that I'd eventually get it back… but he left me suddenly, without notice or warning. I never even got to say an ultimate goodbye. When he died there was no funeral. But who would have come anyway? Probably just – or not even – me.
It's hard to say exactly what I felt for B, especially being that it's difficult to remember everything I ever went through with him. I don't even know what made me chase him and have to get to know him. I never did accomplish the latter… yet I suspect I'm one of the few people who ever stayed around long enough to experience the few parts of B that weren't corrupted by his overwhelming obsession with winning his private battle against the detective known as L. It seemed that almost every aspect of him was taken over by this, aside from the parts that were stained with something completely different. That look in his eyes… I suspect it was whatever hidden there which latched itself onto these parts, like a parasite devouring its host. I could see it so completely sometimes, yet I was always unable to name it. That emotion… it was so lucid there… crystalline, dancing within those strange eyes of his. Mocking me for trying to take what I could never have. There was no room for love inside of B. He had too many internal struggles of his own to deal with another person's, and it got to the point where he seemed to have time only for L. I was competing with someone I had never seen and never spoken to. Someone I could barely comprehend.
Being with B was strange, and I remember the first time I'd worked up the nerve to actually touch him. Before that all I recall is listening to him think aloud about various things I had no idea about, him sitting on one end of the couch, I on the other. He would sit in that curious position of his, with his knees up against his chest. He'd urged me several times to do the same, insisting that it increased one's reasoning ability (or something along those lines). Of course I would comply, yet I never experienced anything different, though I suppose that could be due to the fact that I simply could not think of anything else besides how B seemed so completely ignorant of me… that he seemed to only acknowledge my existence and nothing more. Perhaps I offered him something he had not had in a long while, though I don't really know. I offered him friendship, however awkward, and therefore someone who would listen to him, though he opened up about so very little regarding himself. Yet I recall that I grew frustrated at one point, fed up with his stupidity regarding my advances. I kissed him, and he tasted like the jam he ate in that hideous manner of his, and of sugar. But it was strange, like everything else about him. He barely responded. No emotion. And after I pulled away to look at him, to try and see what he was thinking, he merely told me it was rude to interrupt and then kept speaking. But I did reach something. He actually looked at me a little longer than usual while he kept on, and I saw his eyes search me, staring at me and almost seeming to say "You'll leave me, too." After that I was gentler, though I eventually gave up. B would offer me nothing, and he would often tense when I placed my hands on his or even near him.
Over time I saw less of B, though I knew he was busying himself with something. I decided never to approach him regarding our decreasing amount of contact, and during some times of the month I wouldn't see him for weeks on end. At this I had a tendency to worry and wonder, though I knew better. With B I was always careful never to tread too deep into his private life, and mostly I let him offer up what little he did during the times he would speak to me, where all I could do was nod or make small meaningless comments to let him know I was listening. That summer was probably one of the worst in my life for several reasons, but mostly it was due to the dangerous look B then seemed to acquire in his eyes. Yet he also appeared unusually smug, more confident; but I still saw the pressure he'd created through his obsession with L, and it seemed to weigh him down. Of course I was curious, but he always hid things so well that he offered no clue to what my have changed. Weeks later I felt him draw farther away from me and from everything else and I knew he had gone further into himself. That was one of the last times I'd seen him… only hearing about him after he'd gone to prison for murder. While I had always known B was rather unpredictable, murder something I honestly had never thought he was capable of. I retained my restless thoughts, pushed back the shock. Instead I visited him during the few times I was allowed to, and I looked upon his face, his body burned by his suicide attempt. I didn't ask why, though perhaps I should have. I never offered him consolation of any sort. In my own obsession with him I never realized how selfish I was. How while I'd listened to him I'd never offered him much comfort. But I'm not stupid, I know that would have changed nothing regarding B's fate. All I know is that I was not as kind to him as I should have been… as I thought I was. For while he could offer me nothing in the odd relationship we had, I could have tried harder on my part.
B eventually died in prison, but not necessary of natural causes. While it had been a heart attack, the person who had called me regarded it as the act of a mysterious killer known as Kira who seemed to be on a mission to take out criminals. The synthetic voice told me it was sorry for my loss, but I didn't care what it said. It had no definition, no name. I had to ask, knowing the confusion in my voice was quite plain. L. How he knew about me and how much I wasn't certain of. All I know is that he claimed that Kira was the likely reason for the death of B. I'd finally spoken to the one I'd competed with for so long, however short the exchange was.
I doubt L was actually at all sorry for the death of B, but perhaps he knew I probably would not have been notified otherwise, being that I was not family. It was the only time I've ever spoken to L. But L… how dare you claim Kira was responsible for taking B away from me when he always belonged to you.
A/N 2: So there you have it. I went with the theory that Kira would have killed B, seeing as the book states he died of a mysterious heart attack. I'm not certain L would be the sort to make such a call for whatever reason, but it was the only way to get to the end line I had in mind. It's kinda short and I think it jumped around a lot (and repeated several words too many times), but as I said it was just a quick idea I had. And I suck at first person. I tried my best to stay true to B's character, so I really hope he didn't seem ooc. Not my best work, being that first person and I hate each other... and I can't stomach writing romance.