The Cave, a death note fanfic

I don't own death note.

When he was a little boy his family used to stay with his grandparents on their farm in Hokkido during the summer vacations. His grandfather and uncles grew high quality rice for the sushi masters and the top local sake brewers. Their large farm was set high in the mountains where the dark volcanic soil produced some of the best rice around.

Despite being young at the time, he was well aware of the tension and the friction caused by their visits - his father and the other men of his family did not get on. His father, being the oldest son had been expected to take up his grandfather's position as the head of the family and lead their farm as his ancestors had for many hundreds of years. So when, at twenty, he had joined the police and moved to the heart of Tokyo, they could not have been more disappointed. Arguments had been had.

But then, instead of fulling into deprivation and despair as predicted, his father had actually done rather well for himself; got promoted, got married and had children. And 'children' changed everything, for his grandmother at least, suddenly they were invited to dinner again, sent New Years cards and the summer visits began. Some of his earliest memories were on that farm, confronting a cow for the first time, being pushed into the paddy field by his cousins and the big family meals where all the adults got drunk and sung together.

It was another of those memories that brought him back here tonight.

He had been older then, around eleven, and this time they had come in the winter. His grandfather, who had always been in his eyes the oldest, the baldest and the wrinkliest man ever, was dying. Of what he'd never been told because children shouldn't know these things, but it had meant his father was given leave to visit him one last time. Having never seen the farm in any other time except in the bright rays of summer, the winter desolation had been a shock, the heavy snow, empty trees and the death and the ice in stark contrast to the usual happiness of this place and scared him even before they arrived and anyone bothered to explain things to him. In fact his parents had been very against bringing him, the last days of a much loved relative deemed unsuitable for a child, but his grandfather had asked for him, specifically… because he was the first. So that was why it was just him and his dad.

As their car finally made it through the last of the deep snow and onto the driveway they arrived to the sound of an argument. Loud and angry voices sounded from deep within the house. He recognised his uncle's voices demanding, aunts pleading and his grandmother was crying. Then the door was thrown open.

"Soichiro! You're here! Finally. Well, where's the boy?" His grandfather stood in his thick traditional winter clothes as the family gather around. His father rushed up to the house as he slipped out of the car greatly concerned by the glares he was receiving from half his family.

"Father, you're looking well, I heard…"his father said sounding quite surprised.

"Heard what exactly!? That I'm dying?! Well you'd be right, I am. But whilst I am still master of this house what I say goes!" He had never seen his grandfather look so frail although it hadn't seemed to have had an effect on his vitriolic speech.

"He wants to go out!" Cried one of his aunts.

"Darling please don't be so silly, you'll freeze." His grandmother, standing at the back with a hankie clasped in her hands.

"Tough! I'm not dead yet. I'm going on a walk and I'm taking that boy with me." All eyes turned once again back to him as though he might know why he was going on a jolly walk in the snow with a dying man.

His grandfather marched forward brushing off all protests and guiding hands.

"Now me and him 'ere, are going for a stroll, none of you ungrateful lot are to follow us and we'll be back in time for dinner so you'd better have it ready! Here take my stick! And would you stop being so tall!" The last sentence being delivered when his grandfather realised he'd grown since the last time he'd used him as a proxy crutch.

To the surprised looks of his family and the concerned looks of his father he was lead out of the grounds and on to the path that lead up to the old family shrine.

"Are we being followed?" He had never been too fond of his grandfather, who had been abrasive and course when sober and mean and aggressive when drunk. He had respected him, although he wasn't sure what he was meant to respect him for, but he'd been told to, so he did.

"No sir" he added the title because although he was holding the old man's stick his grandfather was a fast man when he wanted to be.

"Good" and he allowed himself to slow down and let his breath show the strain. The weight on his shoulder grew much heavier and as he stared at the man it was as though somehow he had gotten older.

"Should have done this years ago, not with you of course, your father… Stupid boy! Running away like that… well it's his loss." Half to himself the man mumbled as he suddenly veered them off the path and into the thick packed trees. What told his grandfather that this was the point to change direction he didn't know, but it was though the question showed on his face because the old man spoke again.

"Didn't you notice? It was the point when the bird song stopped. If you can hear it again, you've gone wrong, but you generally need to head down hill." He thought that direction was odd and perhaps rather poorly thought out, but he didn't say anything because that usually described anything his grandfather said.

"But it has to be you now, you see? First son of the first son of the first son etc and if it has to skip that wastrel then the better for it I say!" The snow was deeper, up around his knees making him wish he'd been warned about needing his hiking boots when visiting sick relatives. However it was his grandfather he was really worrying about, his breathing much heavier and laboured. "We can take a break if you need."

"Don't be stupid!" a clip around the ear was the only thanks he got.

He wasn't sure for how long the were walking, but his grandfather had been right, he could hear no bird song and the snow looked completely undisturbed as though nothing ever came here. The trees were also strange, not in a way he could name but in a deep subconscious level of uneasiness.

Then up ahead he could see a large clearing in the trees with a shear rock face at the end and his heart raced as he tried to imagine the terrible things that might await them.

He was disappointed when all there was, was a small rather crumbly looking cave. To be fair it was a cavernous black opening in the middle of a cliff, but it wasn't that exciting, him and his cousins had been in and out of caves just like this one every summer. It didn't even look like the sort that would have a few descent bats in it. Again this must have shown on his face because his grand father said.

"Well what were you expecting? Some bloody great forbidden temple with statues and what not. No! You'd have people trampling all over it the whole time, that's not the way to keep nothing secret."

In his rather doubtful suspense he tried to look into the cave and see something more than the small rocky opening.

Eventually when it appeared his grandfather may have forgotten him he said.

"Grandfather, what is in there?"

"The world's greatest weapon." Said his grandfather reverently.

As a young man, he had tried to follow his father. Despite the boredom and malaise he'd felt at the shear simplicity of life he'd worked hard at school, gone to the best university possible and joined the police the day after graduation.

But that's when things started to go wrong. They said he was too smart for the job. But he wasn't 'street smart', didn't have enough 'street cred' and had a tendency to vocalise quotations marks around things he didn't think were real words. His boss said he was too impertinent, his coworkers said he was too arrogant and the commissioner just didn't like him. Didn't like his name, didn't like his accent and called him farm boy whenever he could.

All this was confounded by the fact that he was… not that good at his job. Policing had changed, no longer was it the elegant and intelligent problem solving he'd watched his father do. Now there were targets and priorities, politics and politicians. One drink driving scandal and the whole force have to spend the next month on patrol with the Breathalyzers. And was it just him or were there less serial killers around these days? Even if he did get a case to work on it was only because no one else would want it; he was never going to get a medal for solving the infamous 'Mystery of the Stolen Hedge Clippers' case. Was a little excitement too much to ask for?

Some money would be nice as well, after a minor disagreement with his inspector he'd been put on probation and half pay. His debts had risen so fast, against all his best efforts, it forced him to his great embarrassment to give up his apartment and move back in with his parents lest the bailiffs come knocking. Yet despite now living on his parent's kindness it hadn't been enough, all his pay went straight to the banks leaving him without any sort of cash and surviving on the free biscuits in the break room and walking an hour to work to avoid the train fair. It was in this hunger and debt induced misery that he had arrived at his brilliant idea.

His father used to tell him that when he had started out in the force it had been hard for him too, but after an amazing bit of policing he was branded a hero and a hero he'd remained. His father had caught one of the most notorious gangsters of the day, and so would he. However unlike his father he hadn't been given the case and normally he wouldn't have done something like that but these were desperate times. So one night after work he'd slipped into the chief inspector's office and copied the files.

Hariya Kounoshin and his gang were often referred to as 'art dealers' but quite often what they exchanged for the priceless fine art and sculpture were small pieces of lead travelling at quite high velocities. The gang were ruthless thugs controlled by the smart and eccentric but ever so slightly psychotic Hariya. The location of their hideout had always remained a mystery, that is, to everyone except him. As soon as he'd seen the files the answer had jumped right out at him, although it had helped significantly that his route to work bypassed a building frequented by Hariya's henchmen. He had gone a few days later armed with a camera, a tape recorder and his gun. Not that he intended to use the last item, this was to be purely a recognisance mission, under no circumstances would he single-handily run in there, gun drawn, to have an epic gun battle and arrest Tokyo's most wanted.

He really ought to listen to himself.

He'd started off with the photos and gathering evidence like a good little policeman, but then when Hariya himself arrived he couldn't help it. The leader had dismissed his body guards telling them to wait inside whilst he had a fag in peace. The gang had raided the Tokyo National Art Gallery last week taking several priceless works of art on loan from other museums and it was still possible that they had yet to be sold on. In fact they may be in the very building that Hariya leaned against smoking, alone, unguarded and back turned. These sorts of opportunities came only one in a life time. Hariya drew another cigarette from the carton and in a moment would have both hands busy with lighter and cigarette. In absolute silence he crept up behind the gang leader. He wanted to jam the end of his gun into his spine, feel the man tense in fear and whisper directly into his ear.

"Drop the weapon and raise your hands!" Yeah, something like that, only him saying it instead of the man behind him jamming a gun into his spine.

Hariya turned to him and exhaled a cloud of curling smoke. "I was wondering Mr. Policeman, when you'd decide to come over and say hello." He laughed and carefully removed the gun from his hand and inspecting it. "Well bring him inside then."

What happened after that was just one pain filled nightmare. He was tied to a chair then Hiriya's men had 'worked him over', his nose broken, lip split and so much blood it was now running down his front in rivers. When they forced him to reveal that he hadn't told anyone where he was going that night and that no one else knew of the hideout, the gang geared and congratulated him.

They would kill him and dump his body somewhere no one would ever find it and the worst thing was he knew the police would never look. He'd be written off as a suicide and maybe there'd be a plaque at work or probably not.

He had told them everything, so not only had he fucked up his own mission; he'd now compromised the rest of the investigation by telling them everything the police knew.

"Well Yagami-san I must say it was very nice of you to drop by this evening, but know I'm afraid its time to say goodbye." Hariya walked towards him drawing a gun from in side his jacket. He raised the gun placing it against his head, he then clicked off the safety.

"Wait please!"

"Now why should I do that?"

"There's something else I haven't told you…. Something you'd be interested in."

…

."The world's greatest weapon huh if you're lying to me Yagami, then you will very much wish that I had shot you back there." He was tied up in the passenger seat of the black tinted Mercedes as it drove on towards Hokkido. He had no idea what he was thinking with this, what in the end, would delaying his death by several hours matter? He wasn't going to be rescued on some little farm in the middle of nowhere. However one of the files had mentioned in passing Hariya's passion for ancient Japanese weaponry and whatever it was that was in that cave was certainly old and presumably Japanese. And in his human desperation to live at any cost he'd cobbled together a story about a famous Samurai war hero being buried in a cave with his armour and swords. He'd said the site was guarded by his family who were too scared of bad spirits to enter the cave. He didn't know what was really in the cave but now he would be killed there.

He just hoped that… actually he had no idea what he hoped for, if only his grandfather had been a bit more informative.

….

"The world's greatest what?" he had stared up at his grandfather in disbelief.

"Weapon, boy, weapon! You know sacred and unholy device of the daemons and Shinigami. Untold haunted souls and rivers of blood, that sort of thing."

"OK… why in this cave? Why here?"

"The Yagami family for centuries have guarded with our lives this terrible and hallowed mystic thing of somethingorother. Don't look at me like that, I'm only telling you what my dad told me, right before he died, and what his dad told to him and his father before him."

"You've never been in there have you?" for some reason he was feeling a lot more rebellious than he would usually dare around this man.

"Only once, like you will now. You'll go in there and see that it is true, and you'll leave and will never go back, unless it is needed. Unless the world's gone to pot, there's disorder and chaos and you the only one that can stop it, then and only then will you come back here. Because whilst it might give you a power like no other, you will lead a cursèd existence. I witnessed a world war, saw Japan turn and crumble, defeated and destroyed but I never came here. Neither will you, because humanity is better of without somethings as my dad said to me, and as you will say to your son when the time is right, now go in there."

"What are you listening to? I can't hear anything?" Hariya stood slightly away from the group who were mostly occupying themselves with pointing their guns at him. In a few hours the sun would rise and would be the last one he'd ever see. The men had brought huge lamps from the car and whilst it was light and the path looked very different 10 years later and at night there was still no bird song nor bat cries.

"That way then." He said as he lead them onwards though the forest. Nothing lived here, he'd noticed it then and the gang were noticing it now, everyone was uneasy and edgy. They were more likely to kill him and abandon this wild goose chase then ever reach their destination.

Hiriya however managed to keep them going and eventually after a few missteps they reached they cave.

And for the second time in his life he prepared to enter, forsaking all his grandfather's warnings, and possibly handing over something truly terrible to this evil person.

His grandfather had refused to even come to the mouth of the cave but pushed him on. He was just glad to get out of the snow drift, and after all the tricks his cousins had played on him over the years he doubted anything in this dumb cave could bother him. The first thing he noticed was how far it stretched, but when he turned to ask his grandfather how far he should go he said in that annoyingly cryptic way the 'he'd know'. So he carried on walking until the mouth of the cave was a distant spec.

That was the second thing he noticed about the cave; it wasn't dark. It had been pretty gloomy outside when he'd entered and he'd travelled too far now for the light to carry, yet light still filled the air. As he looked around for the source of the strange light he noticed he'd come to the end of the tunnel.

Here it opened out in to a wide gloomy cavern, a massive void in the mountain. The floor was smoothed, carved and further into the dim depths and as far as his eyes could see statues sculpted out of the mountain stone that stood like a frozen army bursting from the rock and all eyes on him. They were of people, possibly, but horribly disfigured people who in rows and columns marked out a path to the centre of the cave, where a raised dais stood.

It loomed above the floor dark and foreboding, but he was drawn towards it and moved through the forest of twisted statues. Being a sensible boy he knew that the statues weren't looking at him and following him with their eyes, even if having moved through the cavern he still felt like the centre of the attention. There was no dust or grime or anything organic at all, the place seemed sterile and empty of something real. The ceiling above the dais stretched downward like a stalactite reaching toward the raised surface, its rough stone, as he moved closer was revealed to be again carved with something disturbing almost liquid like. He had reached the centre of the cavern where too large stairs lead to the top of the platform and the bottom of the spiked stalactite.

As he placed his foot on that first step something horrifying happened. ..

That he never spoke of. Not when he'd run screaming from the cave, along the tunnel and into the arms of his grandfather. Not as he'd been carried shaking down the mountain or not when his father took him and held him, trying to make him speak. He didn't ever because there was only one person that would understand and he had died that night without saying another word to anyone.

This time when he entered the void it was different. Because this time the scariest thing was not in front of him but behind him in the form of the gun wielding henchmen and their master.

"Yagami what the hell is this place!?!" Hariya's number two's voice filled the space and echoed of the walls.

But Hariya stopped him. "What games are you playing Yagami? There are no weapons here, correct? But then, look at these sculptures here boys! I've never seen anything like them. Chip them out and they'll sell like gold dust!" He walked up to the closest one, a mostly humanoid one with a large wide mouth full with teeth and malice. "Very macabre… Hmmm nicely preserved and look at that craftsmanship." Hariya turned from examining the long gangly arms and delicate clawed fingers.

"I'm not sure what you are planning to do in this place but I am curious. World's Greatest Weapon you said, and you believe it don't you? Very curious indeed, well lead on, I want to know whats up there." Hariya with his gun at his back lead his group onward, and although he was focused on plinth at the centre the others were more concerned about the statues and did not like them. He could see them twist and turn watching them as though they might at any moment come to life. There were too many tentacles and claws for that to be a happy experience.

As they reached the steps he paused and trembled knowing what came next and Hariya noticed. "Yamamoto go up there and see whats there." The man stepped forward and on to the first step and froze. Then he let out a blood curdling scream as his eyes darted upward and all around, his face twisting to the horror. His friend rushed to help but as soon as his foot touched the stair he too screamed. The gang panicked and yelled and tried to pull the others free. Hariya was barking orders but all the guns were now occupied so he took his last chance at life.

"Yagami! Get him!" Yelled Hariya as he jumped onto the stairs and started climbing. His eyes desperately squeezed shut, hoping he could cope if only he couldn't see it. Distantly and over the raw he heard gunshots but carried on ascending. Then his back was on fire as a bullet ripped through him and he opened his eyes as he fell.

Far away he heard his own voice screaming as he looked down on to the ceiling as it writhed. Those indistinct and unpleasant carvings shivered and twisted limbs and bodies emerging and submerging back into the mass. Their faces screaming at him in pain and outrage the stretched mouths and vacant eyes all raring at him from above. He dragged his body up the next step as the screaming intensified and boiled against his ear drums. The creatures on their pedestals jeered and cackled as he rose another stair. His blood was running from the bullet holes and up the stairs as if attracted to the spike. Vaguely he could see Hariya's men, some still there guns firing wildly others rushing to the exit but Hariya himself was closer. His face smeared into a mix of fear and hatred was focused entirely on him as he too scrambled up the stairs, gun clenched in his teeth.

He speed up turning round to climb like a child on hands an knees every stair bringing him closer to the top but then closer the screaming bodies. The end was a long meter or so away when a hand grabbed his foot. Hariya dug his nails in pulling backward. He desperately kicked out and missed and slid backward, but he kicked again and this time connected. Losing hold Hariya raised the gun and fired again, more blood splattered on the steps, but he had to keep going another stretch and his hand brushed up against the last of the stairs.

His body screamed in protest as he hauled himself upward and landed in a heap on the flat smooth surface, and he was too tired to stand and wet too as now the blood had soaked all his clothing. But then he saw Hariya's hand too scramble on the platform, and with his last bit of effort and his blood covered slippery hands he found his way to his feet. At the centre of the platform was another raised block directly under the spike of the stalactite. Now he was close enough to see into the eyes of the faces and their rotten, broken teeth but still he approached for on the block sat a beautifully ornate gold chest. Encrusted with brilliant jewels and about the size of a think briefcase its lid rested inches below the very tip of that terrible spike. Staggering, he almost collapsed before reaching the chest, but he managed to lean against the block as his hands found grip on the lid.

"Don't you dare move Yagami!" Hariya stood on the platform this time his gun pointing directly at his head, his command barely heard over the screams filling the air.

"Or what?" and he slid the lid off the chest, he was already going to die what difference would it make. He heard the gun fire but his hand was already in the box searching for the thing that had to be hidden like this. There was something smooth and papery but he brushed aside, and then for the first time, looked at the world's greatest weapon.

And it looked back at him. The baby was fresh and pink and kicked its little feet and held out its little hands.

So Yagami Soichiro picked up the baby.

This has been sitting on my computer for a while when i kinda went of death note but if enough people are interested i'll finish off the next chapter and carry on.

So do please coment if you like and tell me what you thought. when did u realise who i'd been writing about?