This is my first fanfic so any tips and things would be really appreciated :)

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own Death Note... :(

Annnyyyway here goes :

~Updated 23/2/12~

Patter. Patter.

Fingertips of rain played along the roof top as the warm sun gradually merged with the fading light of dusk, the day drawing to an end.

Patter. Patter.

Inside the house, a boy sat, head on desk, eyes shut, listening to the sound of the rain. It was only a light drizzle that couldn't even be called a shower, but the sound was amplified by the hollow room, making it seem as if there were a storm raging outside. The boy's fingers drummed out a rhythm on his desk, beating in time to the steady fall of the water. The droning of the teacher had been filtered out alongside the murmur of the class, so the rain was all the boy could hear.

How he wanted to be running in the rain, looking at the sunset, hand in hand with his parents, like he had when he was younger. They would swing him back and forth between them, and he would laugh and they would smile at their happy little boy. And that's what they would be. Happy.

Not that that could happen anymore.

Instead, he was sitting in this useless lesson, learning useless things. He sighed. It all seemed like meaningless boredom. When would he need to use sequences in life? He understood them, but didn't see their use. Much like all the other subjects he was forced to take - he could do them, but never used them outside of lessons. And there was everyone else working their hardest in every way, while he slouched around school, completely unconcerned with education he was supposed to be grateful for.

Although he didn't particularly mean to slouch, it just seemed that his shoulders naturally curled over, his back bent, and his hand sat in his pockets, keeping warm. Scraggy black hair fell down over his eyes, hiding his face from the world. His hair was another bizarre point. However short he cut it, however frequently, it would grow back almost instantly. Yet after growing like the wind, it always stopped growing as soon as it reached an invisible line just above his shoulders. After a childhood of constant visits to the hairdressers, he, along with his parents, had given up and just allowed nature to take its course. Now, at sixteen years old, his hair had become part of his personality, part of the mask he had made to keep the world out. He was proud of his mask. So far, the world had not got inside.

Of course, there had been counsellors. Psychiatrists. Groups mentoring sessions. You name it, he had had it. Not that it made much difference – he had learnt to put his mask on and answer the questions to make them go away. After time, he had ended up here. He wasn't complaining – compared to some of the places he had been, this was by far the best. It was just his general dislike of schools. Of education. Of learning.

The only subject that really took his interest was sport – running, swimming, cycling. Being in tune with the outdoors - feeling the wind whistle past his ears; rain softly trickle down strands of hair; the earth compress under his bare feet – that was what he enjoyed. The freedom of it was exhilarating – he felt as if he could run away from everything and anything.

If it came to it, he didn't need to run away - when he was six, his parents had insisted that he join a karate class, and now, ten years later, he wore his black belt with pride. As part of the sport, he had to be disciplined, not that any of his teachers would ever imagine it. Due to his lazy appearance, he was immediately classified as a delinquent in every school he visited, and so was promptly blamed whenever anything bad happened. He imagined that was why, when the bell rung for the end of the day, he was kept behind by his teacher.

"Miss?" he pleaded, "Why d'ya have to keep me behind? I have stuff to do, you know…"

His teacher turned, and gave him a disapproving look. "Like vandalize the house again? You may find lessons boring, but this is no way to express your boredom."

"I didn't do that! We all know it was the guy who sits in front of me – you know, with the blond hair."

The teacher raised her eye brows "If you're going to blame your misdoings on your classmates, at least learn their names first."

"Oh, for-" the boy stopped himself, but too late.

"I will not have that kind of language in my class room. I think… yes. I will have you stay here for the next hour, so that you can think about what you've done, and when I return at…" she glanced at her wrist where an expensive watch told her the time "… four o'clock, when I expect you to tell me how you are going to make up for your actions."

With that, she left the room, not even seeming to notice the boy's protests.

"I wasn't even going to swear."He grumbled, after she had left the room.

The boy, upon finding the door locked, slumped back down into his chair. Maybe this place isn't so great after all. I mean, they keep us locked up like prisoners. Deciding he didn't have anything else to do for the next hour, he dropped his head down onto the desk, and dozed off to sleep.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. The room was getting dark. He squinted up at the clock mounted above the teacher's desk.

5:27. Damn. I've overslept.

The boy quickly got up from his desk, stretching his arms out, getting rid of the last of his tiredness. A quick glance around the room showed the teacher had not returned – the door was closed, and her bags were still by the desk.

His phone showed no sign of any signal and he could find no other way out of the room, so he walked over to the door, in the hope that he could get it open.

After having to resort to an explosive front kick, the door swung straight open, revealing the corridor, unlit, on the other side. The boy peered round the corner. No-one was anywhere to be seen. He turned around, meaning to get his bags to leave, when he abruptly stopped.

Before him was a twisted monster – its eyes peeled back, goring into the boy's own eyes. Its jaggared spine pierced holes through its curled back and two taloned wings curled over the beast's dismal brown frame. Two large claws forced their way from its feet, stabbing into the floor.

The boy, although surprised, wasn't scared. He had seen many unusual things so far in his life, and a monster wasn't the worst he had seen.

After a weighted silence, the boy decided to speak.

"Hey, um, can I ask what you are?"

After another long pause, the creature hadn't replied, so the boy tried again. "Hello? Er, can I get you anything…? I dunno, you want me to take you to our leader or something?"

The monster simply plucked a maggot out of its ear and chewed it in its mouth.

"Fine - don't reply then! You could've at least told me your name..."

The boy was surprised for a second time that day when the monster finally spoke. "Tuig."

"What?"

"You asked for my name. It's Tuig."

The boy tipped an imaginary hat. "Howdy, Tuig. My name's Ray. Mind if I ask what you are?"

Tuig seemed to be opening up, because his next answer was faster than the others.

"Haha… Can't you tell? I'm a Shinigami – a God of Death."

Soo... What do you think? Please review! I'd really appreciate any ideas and stuff you do and don't like (no flames please!)...

Thanks! :)