Evanescent Evenings

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Disclaimer: I disclaim.

Rating: T – teenagers these days can take a lot of violence right?

Warning: violence, blood and gore, a bit of OCCness for the sake of the circumstances, future shounen-ai (LightxL)

Summary: (AU) He had gold eyes and he was called Light – that was all L remembered of his savior from a vaguely remembered incident from his childhood. Years later, in the midst of grisly murders, they meet again, and L finds out just why Light's eyes were of impossible gold.

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Author's Note: (Sigh)This was supposed to have been a one-shot posted on Halloween. Unfortunately, a lot of unexpected things happened, one of which involving a car and being trapped in a place where I could get a hold of the internet (the horror!) So! Since I had the time and the inclination to expand the tale, I did!

I took a lot of liberties here, especially concerning the situations of characters, so please just go with it, neh? It's pretty much all written, except I have to tweak the middle parts and ending with the additions I made. So yes… I hope you enjoy reading!

~Sunday~

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It was Halloween at Whammy's House.

The children had been looking forward to the holiday since the trees first began to change their colors. It was a welcome break from their intense classes and extensive lectures, not to mention relentless training for some; but best of all, they were all to go to the neighboring town and go trick or treating. They weren't totally secluded from the outside world of course. Each class had a day out in town every month, but it was only in few occasions that the entire school was able to go out, namely on Christmas Eve and Halloween. Hence, like birds being freed from a cage, the students fervently took to these days as extremely important events, and prepared for them like no other.

The grounds were littered with fallen autumn leaves and clusters of jack-o-lanterns with eyes and mouths aglow, some with scarecrows dressed up as witches or ghosts watching over them. The hedges of the gardens were strewn with cottony strands of web and plastic spiders and snakes that mingled with their hidden live counterparts, while trees were lit up with more lanterns in the shape of pumpkins and various ghouls accompanied by rubber bats that bounced from their elastic strings. Shreds of cloth and paper also waved about in the nearly barren branches, as if reaching out to would be trespassers. The older children could be found here, in the grounds, running about as devils or goblins, super heroes or celestial beings; with their guardians looking on half-heartedly to make sure no one accidentally trips and catches fire. The teenage students were also hanging about in their groups talking excitedly about the trip, how they would get away from their supervisors and dare each other to explore the town cemetery or some reputed haunted house mostly. Everyone was excited as they basked in the orange setting sun, and eyeing the buses already parked on the main driveway that would take them to the town.

Though all the buildings in the compound were covered in similar decorations, the main house was the masterpiece. The hedges surrounding the structure had cross-shaped planks sticking out of them to give the illusion of a rundown cemetery as frontage for a supposed haunted house. More jack-o-lanterns and skulls were spread out in groups on the grounds, all with their monster dressed sticks-and-hay attendants. Some of the windows were painted from the inside with bats and cobwebs, while some were covered in orange cellophane with shadows moving about. The main steps even had black candles with flames fluttering in the October breeze. The front doors, in contrast, were decorated quite plainly with a mere 'Happy Halloween' sign stretched across the top. It opened to the brightly lit foyer, also decorated with faux cobwebs and spiders, where the smaller children were being dressed in their coats and being handed their little spooky goodie bags to put candies in. Teachers were bustling about to ready their wards, as some of the kids bounded down the main stairs, half-dressed.

"Come, come, children!" Roger called. "The buses have been waiting. Linda stop dilly-dallying!"

"Sorry Roger!" The young girl intoned as she slipped past him and ran outside to where the rest of her class was grouped together.

"Quillish! Quillish!" Roger cried out to the man walking down further into the hallway. "It's almost time for us to leave!"

The middle-aged man dressed in a dark brown suit turned towards his old friend and smiled. "Just a moment, Roger. I need to check on L."

"Do hurry Quillish or we'll be late for the show!"

"Yes, yes…"

Quillish walked towards the main library where he had left his favorite ward an hour before. He moved between bookcases to a quiet corner at the edge of the reading room which L had claimed as his own. Sure enough, the young boy half sat, half-laid on the deep red arm chair with his legs dangling from an armrest, his figure illuminated by a single reading lamp.

"Yes, Mr. Whammy?" L asked when Quillish was close enough to hear. He didn't look up from his book.

"We're almost ready to leave, L. Are you sure you don't want to come?"

"I am fine."

"Would you like me to get you anything from town then?"

"There is no need. Please enjoy yourself, Mr. Wammy."

Quillish sighed. "Are you sure, Lawliet?"

Obsidian eyes looked up at the mention of his last name and saw the worried expression on the old man's face. Repressing a sigh, L straightened up a little and quirked the corners of his mouth to make a small perfunctory smile. "If it wouldn't be much trouble, I'd like to have some more candies?"

Quillish's countenance perked up a bit and returned the grin. "All right then. Candies it is."

L nodded as his guardian walked back towards the doors, and relaxed his position to return to his book, but before the footsteps disappeared behind the shelves, the kind voice called out to him again.

"Happy Birthday, L."

"Thank you," he replied automatically, pretending to have returned his attention to his book. Apparently satisfied, Quillish began strolling towards the way he came, leaving L alone in the library with only the books and fading light for company.

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Around two hours later, L uncurled himself from the chair and stretched his limbs. It was fully dark out, and a large autumn moon adorned the sky. The rest of the house was quiet for miraculously everyone was able to go to town for Halloween this year. Usually there was a child or two stricken with severe cold and had to stay. This time only a couple of aged teachers were left behind to watch over the main house. Anyway, there were enough security mechanisms to discourage the best of thieves and the orphanage/school was in the middle of the country side.

The teachers were supposed to watch over any child that got left behind as well. Strictly speaking, L was still underage and had to be supervised. He had just turned twelve today after all. But being the favorite of the orphanage's founder had its perks. In any case, he was more mature than some of the instructors, and in some ways more experienced. It was found that he had a special aptitude for solving mysteries; hence he had started assisting various investigations in London a couple of years before, most of which he solved himself. The occupation appealed to him and there were some cases that were vastly interesting. Quillish usually accompanied him personally to these trips, which only concretized his status as the teacher's, or rather, founder's pet. He knew some of the other children were envious of him, but they were smart enough to keep their opinions to themselves. Intelligent they were, but not nearly as intelligent or talented as himself. In other words, they had nothing over him and even if they did, L considered it to be trifle. He wasn't entirely a recluse, of course. He conversed with some of the children and instructors. He just didn't care to make friends of any of them. There was no point. He liked the younger children though. At least they were honest and genuine when they gave their smiles. Unfortunately, they were corrupted by the older ones soon enough. So when he was here, he spent most of his time in the library, in his room, or any place he could find where he could be left in peace.

L took the book he had just read, turned off the lamp and went to the shelves to put the volume back where he had found it. As he shuffled out of the library, he ran one finger along the spines of the books. He had read nearly every single one in the room, except for the newly acquired ones on account of being on a case most of the time. He only spent his days at Whammy's during the general holidays now, such as Christmas through New Year, Easter and Halloween, his birthday. He couldn't really care less, but Quillish insisted that he deserved a sort of 'break' like any normal child.

He walked to the back of the house towards the kitchens and rummaged around for the cake they had had earlier that day. It was the center piece of the traditional afternoon tea party to kick off the Halloween celebrations, which doubled as L's birthday party. Like every year, everyone sang Happy Birthday, L blew out the candles and everyone began to gorge themselves with sweets (his favorite part.) Idly, L thought that every birthday he had, he was surrounded by demons and monsters. Was that some sort of premonition of the future? He certainly was dealing with real life monsters quite often.

He found the cake and cut an extra large piece of it for himself. He ate it as he perched on the counter, listening to the crickets chirping outside. He wished he was working on a case at the moment. It was turning out to be quite a hollow evening.

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L was taking a stroll in the grounds. No matter how brave he thought he was, it was still unsettling to be walking around a mansion of sorts in absolute silence. If L could, he would've slept, but having plagued with insomnia since he was younger, then practicing late nights when he was studying, then finally working to solve cases until dawn, sleep pretty much eluded him. The teachers on the other hand, had already retired to their quarters.

L walked past the jack-o-lanterns, some of which were black with soot; some still had lights in them, but flickering; and some out of candles and sporting black holes for mouths and eyes. It was eerie. He didn't bring a lantern or flash light since the moon was bright enough that night. The slight cold breeze ruffled his hair and made the shreds of cloth that hung on the scarecrows flutter. He walked slowly in hardly-used sneakers, making his way to the back of the property, to the woods, to a small plot of land where few of the students or staff knew of. It was a small cemetery.

There weren't many grave markers at all; only five to be exact. The two on the right side under the shade of the trees were former students of the orphanage. One died of pneumonia, the other of hemophilia. Their crosses were identical, adorned with pre-casted roses and ivy. One grave, on the left, was of an old teacher of Quillish and Roger's acquaintance. Heart complication, Quillish said. His grave was a simple tombstone with his name and epitaph.

On the very center of the plot was a statue of the Virgin Mary. She was looking down on two cherubs caressing another two simple stone tablets at her feet. They had no names, and Quillish never told L who was buried there. However, he always visited the graves when they came home. He never said anything, just placed a bouquet of flowers on each tablet, stood still for a few minutes then turned and walked back to the main house. L conjectured it was probably Quillish's wife and offspring. He didn't know for sure. Quillish was probably the only person he never checked the background of, out of interest or necessity. L thought he owed the man at least that much for raising him.

He stood in front of the stone effigy, noticing how the moonlight made the figure almost ethereal looking, when he suddenly saw a shadow moved from the corner of his eye.

He spun around towards the direction of the movement and strained his eyes to see what it was.

Nothing.

But the hairs at the back of his neck were standing and he felt something was there.

"Hello?" He called out. No one answered.

"Who's there?" He cried louder. Still no sound, only the rustling of leaves in the wind.

Dread dropped at the pit of L's stomach, and he knew he had to get out of there. He turned to walk back the way he came when suddenly all the air was knocked out of him as his back and skull collided with the old teacher's tombstone.

L faintly felt sharp nails dig into his shoulders and began ripping his shirt. There was a growl near his head, but his vision was too blurry to make out what was on top of him. He only saw shadows and pale, almost white skin. It was a man then?

He heard another growl, but from somewhere farther. Barely a second later, the felt the weight on him suddenly disappear and saw the profile of the Virgin Mary in the moonlight. L blinked and instinctively raised a hand to his shoulder. He faintly heard snarling and the sound of a struggle to his left. He rolled his head to the side to see what the commotion was and saw figures moving in a whirl of movement.

"How DARE you?!" A voice roared.

It was answered with another animalistic snarl.

"They are forbidden!" The voice said again.

L watched as the figures slowly came into hazy focus. There were two. One was a young man in a dark suit soiled with mud. He was the one talking. The other looked like a man, but his face was contorted in such a deranged way, it looked beastly.

The man in the suit had the beast by the wrists and it was struggling to get free. It was shouting curses and gargled threats. L could only make out one word clearly: Light. The beast was calling the man 'Light' – the man's name.

He looked on in dizzy amazement as Light twisted the beast's arms around itself, making it turn on its spot and positioning it in front of him, chest to back, in a sort of painful looking embrace. Light did not stop pulling the beast's wrists though, and with a strange surge of strength pulled the appendages out of the shoulder sockets.

The beast's screamed and it sounded like the gates of hell were opening.

Blood spilled on the earth, making the fallen red leaves ever more tainted with the color.

But Light was not finished.

The beast collapsed on his knees, still screaming, tears, drool and blood running down its face. It's pale, now blood-covered body clearly shaking.

"You chose this life, so you must live by the rules. If you cannot, then there is only nothingness for you." Light said. He was standing with the moon at his back, so his face was in shadow, thus L noticed that his eyes were glowing gold.

L saw the beast gasp as if to take breath in for another scream, but before he could, the sounds of bones cracking and a muffled pop was heard as Light's fist exploded out of the it's chest. The beast arched his back from the impact, face parallel to the sky.

A couple seconds of blessed stillness went by, only broken by the steady sound of sticky blood dripping. L just noticed that Light seemed to be holding something when his fist tightened and mumbled a few words. A squishy sound was made, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then the beast began to shake in earnest. Blue hairline fractures began to appear on its skin and continued to completely cover it. Soon the cracks turned yellow, then red as the skin changed from white to gray and disintegrated into fine dust. A low groan was the only thing the beast could utter as he fell apart. And soon enough, only the rustling of leaves could be heard as the echoes of what had transpired faded into the trees.

L's vision was beginning to go white again, but he kept staring as Light raised himself from his bended knee and looked down to where the beast was only a few seconds ago. He felt his eyelids growing heavy and his head beginning to throb. Vaguely, he saw Light walk towards him and crouch down. L noticed that the blood on Light's suit was gone.

"Are you all right, child?"

L rolled his head with much effort to look directly at the face over him. With detachment he did not know he still had, he simply muttered, "I am not a child."

Golden eyes softened at this and L was rewarded with a smirk.

Then everything went dark.

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Someone was crying…

L heard the sobs clearly.

He turned the door knob and went through the threshold and stopped.

He was in a long empty room. It was filthy. The floor was covered in dirt and litter as if it had never been cleaned in a century. Cobwebs hung in the corners of the ceiling; the already faded paint on the walls was peeling. Dust motes swirled about in the sunlight filtered through the cloudy windows. The rectangles of light coming through the glass were superimposed with crosses making smaller parallelograms stamping the floor of one side of the room.

L took a step forward, knowing somehow that the one crying was somewhere inside, even if all he could see were worn floorboards and broken glass.

He heard the door click closed, and the sobbing stop at the same time.

"L," someone said.

He looked around to look for the owner of the voice.

"L."

He whipped his head left and right, but he still couldn't see anyone, then…

"L," a voice near his left year said.

He turned and only had a second to see the fangs of the beast clamping down on his shoulder.

He screamed.

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"L!"

L opened his eyes wide and saw someone leaning over him. He was breathing hard and his brow was covered in sweat. He thought his heart was going to explode right out of his chest.

"… What?" he gasped.

"L, are you alright my boy? It looked like you were having a seizure."

L blinked and focused on the owner of the worried voice and saw that it was one of the teachers that got left behind.

"Mr. Maison?"

"Ah, good to see you didn't suffer from any brain damage. How are you feeling?"

L relaxed back against the pillows and controlled his breathing to a more normal pace before he answered. The dream was slowly slipping away, and reality was returning.

"… the back of my head is throbbing," he said.

"Well, Mr. Park said you did hit your head quite hard. Do you feel dizzy?"

"No. Aside from that I feel fine. Who is Mr. Park?" L asked as he tried to remember what had happened that earned him a headache and a trip to the orphanage's infirmary.

"The one who found you, dear boy," Maison nodded his head to the other side of the room. "Mr. Raye Park."

L turned his head on the pillow to look and indeed, there was the young man leaning against the wall. Memories then came crashing back – the cemetery, hitting the headstone, the beast, Light. L's eyes widened.

"Glad to see you're alright. That rogue banged you up some."

"Rogue?" L asked, incredulity tingeing his normally monotonic voice.

"Don't you remember what happened, L?" Maison asked.

L didn't take his eyes away from Light. "Remind me."

Light smirked and pushed himself away from the wall. "You were taking a walk in the woods when the criminal I was chasing saw you and intended to make you his hostage and possibly next victim."

"Criminal?"

Light strode to L's bedside. "Yes. I'm a detective and I've been pursuing this particular criminal for a while now."

L's eyes narrowed. "Where is this criminal now?"

Light's grin widened. "He is currently being transported by my partner to the police station in town for the night, and we shall be taking him to London in the morning. I stayed to make sure you were alright."

"Why haven't I heard of a criminal of any sort in the area?"

"Perhaps because he's from another country. He's been on the run for a while."

"So you are from Interpol then?"

"You might say that."

"L!" Maison scolded. "Stop interrogating the man. He saved your life!"

Light waved his hand at the old man. "It's alright sir. Children are naturally inquisitive. I don't mind."

L frowned. "I am NOT a child."

Light looked straight into L's eyes and a knowing smile graced his face. L suddenly realized that Light was rather… beautiful. "You are to me."

L stared back at him and didn't really know what to say for the first time in very long. There was something in his voice that he could not point out, something in his words that were more meaningful than it seemed. It was as if he spoke in code and L wanted to decipher it. Light's eyes didn't waver and… wait.

"Your eyes," L whispered.

Light raised a brow. "What about them?"

"They're brown."

"Yes. They are."

"But… they were…"

"L!" a voice from the hallway called out. Soon the door swung open and revealed a rather out of breath Quillish Wammy. "L! Are you alright?!"

Quillish fast paced to L's side with a very, very worried look on his face. "What happened?!"

"I am fine, please calm down."

"Mr. Hope said you had an accident and was being treated here. Are you seriously hurt?"

"No, as I said, I am fine Mr. Wammy."

"He bumped his head sir, but I believe that he only has a lump. No brain damage or skull fractures that we can tell."

Quillish turned to Light as he spoke. "Are you the young man who saved him?"

Light gave a nod. "Gerald Park, at your service."

Quillish grasped Light's shoulder and said, "Quillish Wammy. I am in your debt. Ask anything and I will do everything within my power to grant it."

Light chuckled and scratched the back of his head in a sort of half-embarrassed gesture. "Well, if it's not much trouble, could you please have someone arrange a ride for me to town? I'm afraid my partner took our car."

"Of course! But is that all? You may stay the night. It is rather late and we have very good cooks. You may request anything you want for breakfast or dinner, if you have not yet eaten."

Light shook his head. "A ride to town is enough."

"But surely…"

"Don't I need to write an eye witness account?" L quietly said. All eyes turned to him.

Again, Light smiled at the boy. "There is no need. I saw everything and my report will suffice. I would not want to give you any more trouble or trauma. This investigation is confidential. The less involved you are, the less complicated it will be. Besides, you need to rest and I really must go." He turned to Quillish. "Mr. Wammy, was it? I am sorry to impose, but all I ask is that you keep the events of tonight secret and arrange a transport for me to town. Would that be possible?"

Quillish nodded brusquely. "Of course. Please give me a few moments to get the car."

"Thank you."

When Quillish had gone, Maison nodded to the other two occupants of the room. "I will just get ice from the kitchen for a cold compress."

Then just like that, only L and Light were left.

L was looking at his pale hands, eyes tracing the green veins running under his skin. He was about to open his mouth to say something when he suddenly felt fingers running along his scalp. He abruptly looked up… into gold eyes.

"Your…"

"Forget what you saw, L," Lights honeyed voiced said. "Sleep and forget."

"What?"

"Everything that happened to you tonight was as I said. There was a rogue that caught you and wanted to take you as hostage, and someone saved you. But you can hardly remember that as well…"

"But… the beast…" L insisted.

"Shhh…" Fingers continued to caress raven locks. "There was no beast, L, just a rogue. You've been through a lot, and you feel really tried, so sleep. Sleep and forget, L…"

"No… there was a beast… and you… you saved me… Light…" The fingers paused for a second at the sound of the name as L sank back into the pillows and his eyelids became heavy. He fought to stay awake, but he felt so… tired.

"Shh… you were probably just dreaming…"

"… dreaming?" L murmured as his eyes began to flutter.

"Yes… Now, shh…"

"… No… you're… brain… washing… me…"

"It's for the best, so please just forget… L…"

"… I don't… want to…" L said, but things were beginning to get vague. Why was he in the infirmary again?

"… Forget, L…"

With his last thread of wakefulness and stubbornness, L looked directly at Light and whispered, "I… won't forget…"

Light smiled. "You will…"

"… your… gold… eyes… Light…" The last word came out as a sigh, and L drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

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(13 Years Later)

Only a little more time.

He needed just a little more time, and he was sure to get the killer.

He wasn't L, Greatest Detective in the World, for nothing damn it!

This case was intriguing to say the least. A couple of months before, a few murders were reported around the city. Three women and two men were killed before L took the case, and an additional seven victims had befallen the same tragic fate since he came on. Granted, the past few victims were all people with despicable reputations, but murder was murder and he was getting frustrated - infuriatingly so. This killer had no particular pattern and seemed to have no motive except to kill scoundrels. According to evidence, he was also practicing some sort of cult ritual since all the victims seemed to have been drained of their blood. L had deduced this was his method – bleeding the victims to death. All the corpses' throats were mutilated, either cut with a sharp object or sometimes looking as if the skin and muscles were bitten off. The first murders were messy enough to conclude this, and apparently the criminal was getting better at it with every turn since the crime scenes were getting cleaner and cleaner. The most exasperating thing was they knew who the killer was. They just couldn't find a trace of him. No one had for the past seven months.

His name was Teru Mikami. He had been reported missing by his office when he had not shown up for work after a week. He was an orphan according to his records, he had been an excellent, righteous student and a bright young attorney with a promising career. He was last seen going home after a late night at work by a janitor and was never heard from ever since. Having no real close friends or family, his case was sent to the cold files after a month and stayed there until the fingerprints and DNA on the cadavers made his name come up.

When L read his profile and record, he was skeptical at first since Mikami seemed to be a morally upright individual. The type that would protect you from a bully and get beaten up for it without complaint; the kind of person that would go on public rallies to support a cause; the sort of person that would strive to be the best Law student that could get a position in any high ranking Law firm, but opting for a mere public prosecutor title just to help the less fortunate out. But then L knew criminals, and even the kindest person in the world had bad days. He could only guess what drove Mikami to this killing spree. Perhaps he had discovered some conspiracy he could not take and went mad; or perhaps he was kidnapped and brainwashed when he had disappeared; or maybe he could just have been creating a kind, idealist and ethical front, and was actually totally warped inside; or simply he couldn't take the corruption of the judiciary system and chose to take the law into his own hands. L could not be sure at this point, though he was betting on the last scenario or the first. One had to be somewhat mentally unbalanced to purposely collect blood besides for a community blood drive. That was another mystery he wanted to solve. What did Mikami do with the blood? Did he store it? Does he bathe in it? Evidence found traces of saliva on the victims' wounds, so it suggested that Mikami drank at least some of it. But what did he do with the rest? L had investigated enough cases to never be surprised about anything anymore.

But now the investigation was at a dead end. Aside from the fingerprints and DNA, Mikami didn't leave anything at the crime scene; nothing except for the nearly completely drained corpses of his victims. He was an intelligent individual and of course well versed in the processes of the law, so it was rather clumsy of him to leave traces of himself behind. Either he was mad and became careless because of it or he didn't care since he was convinced he would never get caught even if the police knew he was the suspect.

L was out of ideas. Perhaps they had missed something. They should have! The investigators, sincere as they are, just didn't have the same instinct for such things as L had. Well, maybe they did, but far from his level. Too far. So L went out of the safety of the hotel and went to the alley where the he deduced Mikami had gone before had disappeared.

L was good at finding missing people. His second persona, Eraldo Coil, made a pretty decent living out of it. From a lot of investigating, L had found out that Mikami had gone to the convenience store a block away from the scene and was walking home before something in the alley caught his attention. It was apparently a gang of youths harassing some woman. He broke the fight up and made the woman escape, but ended up being beaten and left for dead. L was able to trace the woman and the youths, but Mikami just couldn't be found. It was as if he fallen into the belly of the earth.

It only made L want to personally investigate it more. Quillish, known to the Japanese Investigators as Watari, had insisted on coming with him, but L refused when he saw the old man was having a bit of trouble with his slight rheumatism with the cold weather.

"I will be fine. Do not fret, Watari," he had said. "I'm capable enough."

L had covered himself up with a hardly-used thick black woolen coat and scarf over his usual attire of faded jeans and a plain long-sleeved shirt for the bitter autumn night. He took a taxi three blocks from the now cleared crime scene, and walked the rest of the way, retracing Mikami's path. He thought he looked anonymous enough with his dark outer clothes, and half his face engulfed in the thick cloth, but out of habit, his dark sleep deprived eyes assessed his surroundings. Idly, he thought that it was nice to be out walking in the night. He had been cooped up in the luxurious hotel room for an entire month.

Soon enough, he reached his destination and turned a corner to be in the small narrow pathway between buildings. It was dark – the bright street lights, neon signs and traffic only lit the small passageway just enough to decipher what was there. It looked typical enough with dumpsters, black bags of garbage, litter, cockroaches and the occasional rat scurrying about. The maintenance crew must've missed their morning pick-up that day. The smell of rotting food permeated the air, but it didn't deter him. He had smelled worse things in his career. Anyway, his scarf made it all the more tolerable.

L walked deeper into the darkness to the spot Mikami's body had been lying, taking out the small flash light in his pocket. Dark stains could still be seen on the wall. He crouched down on one knee and reached out to touch the marks on the concrete. The blood spatter and dents were in accordance with a struggle. One of the youths said he had used a metal pipe and bashed Mikami on the side of the head. L scanned the ground and did not find any blood trail that may have meant Mikami walked away from the small passageway. Indeed, there was a small irregular stain that meant Mikami had been lying there on the ground, dying. Unless he had gotten immediate medical attention, that's was what he should've been. Dead. But then there were the murders, and Mikami's body had never been found. However, the blood pattern told him that he did not make it out of the alley, at least on his own. Perhaps someone carried him? But there was no blood trail… His internal ramblings were then interrupted by a deep booming voice.

"Hey there buddy."

L snapped his head back to the source, annoyed to have his thoughts interrupted.

"Watcha lookin' at over there?"

A gang of five burly looking youths were in the middle of the narrow passageway.

Bloody hell. L sighed and stood up, looking at the group sideways. "I suggest you children keep to your own business."

The tallest broad shouldered one, probably the leader, laughed with snorts making him sound like a pig. "Hey that's big words comin' from a scrawny twig like you! D'ya heard that guys? He says we're a bunch o' children!"

The rest of the group exploded in laughter.

L simply slipped his hands, flash light included, into his coat pockets and continued to look at the unruly youngsters. They then walked towards him, snickering and punching their palms with their fists. 'A childish way to denote authority and intimidation. How original.' L thought.

"That looks like a pricey coat ya got there, buddy," the leader drawled. "Ya mus' be full o' cash ain't ya'?"

L didn't move and kept eye contact with the would-be head ruffian, even when a fist grabbed at his collar and the smell of cheap cigarettes wafted into his nostrils even through his scarf.

"Why don' ya' jus' give us ya' wallet and we won't be so rough on ya'? Hmm?"

L merely huffed and deadpanned, "Malboro Reds? Couldn't you people afford better with all the money you steal?"

The brawny man blinked for a few moments in confusion.

'My, my… he's certainly putting delayed reaction to a new level,' L told himself.

"Were ya' jus' makin' fun' o' me?!" the man growled.

L had the sudden urge to roll his eyes but opted for a condescending "perhaps" instead. He saw the man's eyes narrow and face contort in anger. A beefy free arm tensed up and reared back, aiming for L's jaw. L knew it was coming however, and so twisted himself to free from the man's hold, dropped down to the ground and rolled a few feet away. The man was taken by surprise, lost his balance when nothing collided with his fist and landed in a heap of garbage. Snarling, he ordered his goons to take on L.

The other four advanced towards the listless detective, fists clenched and shouting obscenities. They punched at L blindly, which the detective all easily dodged. They were just too slow and clumsy, relying on brute force than any strategy. After one particularly frustrated right hook from one of the thugs, L removed his hands form his pockets, pivoted on his heel, and whipped his free leg up as his body swung down, using his hands as an anchor. With the momentum he gathered, the mugger was sent flying backwards and crashing on trash bins. Another lunged at L as he straightened up. This time L just sidestepped, grabbed the man's extended arm, pulled him forward and jabbed his elbow over a shoulder blade, effectively cracking it. Then the other two came out of nowhere grabbing both L's arms and pinning him to their chests. L saw the leader coming at him with a switchblade.

In a whirl of a second, L pulled his right arm to the side with surprising strength, making his captors and himself swing to the left. His feet climbed up a pile of bags and continued moving up the wall. He then kicked upwards, gathering enough force to flip himself over his assailants' heads and landing behind them.

"Gaaaahhh!" one screamed. The leader had stabbed him instead of L and his upper arm was now bleeding profusely. "Fuck Tachibana! FUCK!"

The unharmed man whirled around to elbow L right in the face, but L just spun around in a crouch, swung his leg upwards and gave the guy a kick to the his face. The man staggered sideways with a bleeding nose. From the corner of his eye, L saw the leader, Tachibana, coming at him again with the blade. L jumped back as the blade slashed down on him. Tachibana then lunged and slashed his way forward towards L in obvious rage. Droplets of blood splattered onto L's face and clothes. L backed up until his back hit a dumpster, making the thug smirk. Tachibana then charged with all his might, aiming for L's chest when…

"Uwwwwwwaaaaaa….!!!"

Both L and Tachibana froze and looked towards the source of the scream. "Aoi?" the leader called out.

The gangster whose arm was cut was held in the arms of a taller man with shoulder length hair against a wall. His mouth was open in a now silent scream with his face going noticeably white in the darkness. The man with the longer hair had his face buried in the mugger's neck and a slurping sound could be heard. L and Tachibana stood stone still in the deeper part of the alley. After a few moments, the taller man pulled back and Aoi slid down to the ground in a boneless heap. The still standing man then turned towards the two staring men. His mouth and chin were covered in blood. A red tongue darted out and licked his smirking lips, as red tinted eyes stared back at the two.

He was young, perhaps in his early to mid-twenties. He was dressed in a dark suit making his pale face and hands more pronounced. His shoulder length hair swept this way and that, in a stylish way that many of the young people were wearing lately. He was a very good-looking man and L knew that face very well.

"Mikami." L whispered.

To this, the red tinged eyes widened and then narrowed in suspicion. In a flash, Tachibana disappeared from in front of L and was replaced by Mikami, as a fading scream was heard which abruptly ended with a sickening thud somewhere on the rooftop. L still stood unmoving, in fear or confusion, he could not fathom. His mind didn't know what to make of anything at the moment. The only thought he could muster up was 'How the bloody hell did he do that?'

"Who are you?" the young attorney muttered softly looking into L's dark eyes. L looked back unblinking. "Who are you?" he asked again.

"Teru!"

Mikami whipped his up towards the voice coming from the rooftops and gasped. L looked up as well and saw a figure on the edge of the parapet of the building looking down on them. Then it suddenly disappeared.

L snapped his head back to the entrance of the alley as if by intuition, and sure enough, a person was there. The fallen thugs were looking at the man in terror. "You filthy scum," the voice said, "better start running unless you all want to end up like your friends." Three pairs of eyes hesitatingly looked towards Aoi's corpse and in a flurry of arms and legs falling upon one another; the alley then became empty save for the Mikami, L and the new arrival.

Mikami turned towards the man and seemed to crouching slightly, as if readying to pounce. The man took slow steps forward.

L looked at the man and million thoughts ran through his head. He was going mad, he was sure. His logical mind did NOT want to accept what his eyes were telling him, so his brain, in a sort of defense mechanism, just observed every detail individually and gathered everything it could to try and make rational sense out of it all.

The man gracefully, slowly, striding towards them had auburn hair. It was straight and seemed to have been styled carefully with locks falling into places as if they were meant to be there. He was wearing a pressed white pinstriped button down shirt over tailored gray jeans, under a tan leather jacket. His shoes were white as well, and seemed to be sneakers. Chuck Taylor's, in fact. His wrists and hands peeked out from the sleeves, and exposed smooth pale golden skin. His fingers were long and slender, completely unadorned with rings or jewelry of any sort; but somehow they looked tense and were ready to grab at anything that moved.

When the man was but a few feet from Mikami, he stopped and looked at the young attorney severely. L then got closer look the mysterious figure. His face was smooth and without any imperfection. He had a straight nose, well defined cheekbones and a solid jaw line, but not the exaggeratedly chiseled look one sees up in billboards or magazines. His lips were set in a firm line, pale, but had a hint of salmon color to them. Then L moved his gaze up to the last feature he was missing, and somehow, a feeling of anticipation was blooming in his gut. Eyebrows were covered by bangs, but the eyelashes were black in the dim light. Faint shadows were under the man's eyes, but it was far from as bad as his own. Finally, L stopped breathing and felt every single inch of him freeze. He looked at the man's eyes – they were a familiar smoldering gold.

"Teru," Light said. "You have to stop."

"I was only doing what Kami-sama told me to do!" Mikami defended.

"When I said that it'd be better that you hunted people who were less needed by society, I didn't mean for you to be some sort of vigilante."

"They deserved to die Kami-sama! They were evil-doers and dregs of society! If the law couldn't, WOULDN'T get them, then it was up to me."

"Who do you think you are to judge what is right and wrong, Teru?! You, who must survive by their blood!"

"I AM NOT THE ONE AT FAULT!"

"Stop this madness, Teru, before you lose your soul!"

"If my soul will save the good, then so be it!"

"Teru!" L heard Light call out, but in a fraction of a second L found himself hurling towards Light and colliding with his hard chest.

"Fuck!" Light cursed as both bodies slammed to the ground.

"Dammit Teru!"

Mikami was gone.

L groaned and squirmed on top of the still fuming male. Realizing the situation, Light sat up, taking the quite rigid L with him.

"Hey, you all right?"

L began coughing and rubbing his aching chest.

"Hey…"

"Bloody… hell," L breathed.

Light chuckled, making L look up.

"It seems that you are all right…" Light began with his eyes aglow. "Those goons almost had you…"

L stared into molten gold.

"You must be in shock… you should sleep it off…L…" the musical voice said as he felt his hair being gently touched.

'Sleep…?'

"It was a really close call…"

"… close… call…"

"Yes… so you should just sleep… L…"

"…sleep…" I'm tired… Why am I so tired?

"That's it, L… close your eyes… Shh…"

'…close… my… eyes… L… L?... L?! How does he know my…? He knows me… I know him! I KNOW him! He was… He had… Back then… I KNOW HIM!'

"Stop!" L gasped, looking away. "Stop it Light!"

The hand in L's hair and the grip on his shoulders suddenly let go, making L fall back as Light stood up and looked down at him like he was some obscene creature from hell.

"You… You still remember me!?" Light said dangerously.

L leaned back on his forearms and looked at him and replied, "You… saved me when I was twelve."

Gold eyes smoldered. "You were supposed to forget about that you stupid boy!"

L staggered a little to his feet and frowned. "I'm not a boy anymore, and I most especially am not stupid."

Light scowled. "Boy, if you're as smart as you say you are, then forget everything you saw here."

"I cannot do that, and stop calling me boy."

"It's easy," Light breathed, calming down. "All you have to do is listen to me…"

"No."

"Dammit, L! Stop being difficult! I have to get Teru!"

"Well so do I!"

"I don't have time for this!"

"Do you think I do?"

"AHHHHHHH!!!!" a woman screamed from the entrance of the alley. "There's a dead body over here!"

"Shit," Light cursed and grabbed L by the waist all of a sudden and jumped.

L barely had time to breathe before the next thing he knew, he was looking at rooftops rather than solid ground. He threw his arms around Light's shoulders.

"Where are you staying?" Light asked through the cold rush of the wind.

"Wh – what?!" L stuttered.

"Where are you staying?!" he repeated louder.

"The T…Teito Ho… Hotel!"

L felt Light nod. "I'm going to drop you off on their rooftop. We'll talk later."

L tensed and shook his head. "No! I need to catch Mikami! I have to stop him from killing!"

"What the hell do you think I'm trying to do?!"

"He's my suspect!" L insisted.

"You can't handle him!"

L pulled back a little, while keeping a firm grip on solid shoulders, to look at the Light's profile. "Oh, and you can?"

A condescending smirk. "Can you fly?"

"Yes…"

"Say what?!" Light stole a quick disbelieving glance at the emaciated detective.

"I can pilot helicopters and planes."

Light growled. "God! Stop being sardonic and… and…!"

"And stubborn?" L added helpfully.

"Damn right!"

"I still want to catch Mikami!"

"So do I!"

"Then why don't you help me?!"

"Don't get too involved in this L. It's out of your league!"

"How would you know the borders of my league? And how do we know each other? And why did Mikami call you 'kami-sama'?"

"Could we please stop this conversation for later? I'm already losing Teru… Fuck!"

"What?"

"…I missed your building."

L felt Light hesitate and took his chance. "Keep going! Mikami is more important right now!"

"Don't tell me what to do!" Light snapped.

"Even if I'm right?"

"Dammit, just shut up!... There!"

L twisted his head further to look at what Light saw, and sure enough the dark figure of Mikami was just a few buildings away.

"Teru!" Light called out.

Mikami looked back and doubled his speed.

Light did the same thing, and grit his teeth.

"Fuck! You're slowing me down L!"

"I beg your pardon?!"

Keeping his eyes forward Light said, "I'm dropping you off in the next building. Go back to your hotel. We'll talk later."

"Don't tell me what… Light!"

In that moment L felt them land, his arms pushed away and his ass hit concrete. "Ow!"

"Just do as I say!" Light shouted before he disappeared in a gush of wind.

L looked up just in time to see a streak of brown and white pass overhead. "Light!"

Of course he wasn't answered and Light didn't come back for him. Grudgingly, he stood up a bit shakily from flying in the frigid air. L hugged himself and rubbed his forearms in a perfunctory attempt to warm himself, and gazed at the direction the two men, if one could call them that, went.

"What the bloody hell…?"

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L sighed as he laid back on the king sized bed of the pent house's master bedroom. His hair was still damp from the shower he had taken, the wet locks catching the blue glow of his laptop that buzzed at the foot of the bed. A cake and a tray of tea were on the small table in the corner by the French doors. Quillish had left it there a few minutes before. The old man had waited up for his return and insisted to serve him some sustenance since L mentioned he'd probably be working all night as per usual.

L looked down the bed to the screen between his feet. He had received a report from the police about the killing in the alley. They had yet to find Tachibana's corpse on one of the roofs. He expected that report to come in some time in the morning. He could tell the police of course, but that would compromise him. Who'd believe his story of super strong men able to throw bodies ten stories into the air? Concerning Aoi, he didn't need to read anything. He had been there. He knew what happened. But there were still questions, and the only one that could give him answers was Light. He said that he'd come, so he waited. It wasn't as if he could sleep anyway.

Idly, L thought back on the events and wondered why he knew Light, at all. He vaguely remembered going to the small cemetery at the back of Whammy's House when he had just turned twelve and being attacked there, but by who he couldn't remember. When he woke up the next morning, it had all been a blur. Quillish and Maison had to tell him the story on why he woke up in the infirmary and he had bruises all over his torso. He knew someone saved him and he distinctly remembered his savior to have had peculiar gold colored eyes and was called 'Light.' However, Quillish had insisted that the one who saved him was named Gerald Park. Of course L looked into it and found out that a murderer had indeed been apprehended that night near the orphanage, but there was no Gerald Park. He had searched for the man, but never found him, at least not the one with the strange colored eyes working for any law enforcement agency in any country. He sought out people with the name 'Light' as well, but apparently no one of that name existed in the records. He never found the man with the gold eyes and dismissed the incident to the deepest caverns of his mind as he grew older and more serious cases got his attention. He never forgot though. It was an itch at the back of his head he could never get rid of. After all, he was the sort of person who wanted to seek the truth out for himself. He didn't expect to meet Light at all after all those years, but…

But now… quite suddenly, he appeared.

"Is this tea for me?" a weary voice asked from the corner of the room.

L turned his head to the sound and saw Light standing serenely by the curtains just beside the tea service.

"Help yourself," L said, unsurprised. He had been waiting after all.

"Don't mind if I do," Light sighed as he rounded the chair, sat down and poured himself a cup. After a sip, he sighed once more and leaned back, closing his eyes.

L got up from the bed and crossed to the small lounge area, sitting across from his guest and reaching for the cake and knife. "Would you like some?" he inquired.

Light opened one eye to see what he was referring to, and shook his head. "No thank you, L."

L nodded and proceeded to cut a large piece of cake for himself. Done, he sat in his usual perching position and daintily ate the confectionary with a small fork.

They sat in silence for a while, L eating his cake, Light sipping his tea.

"Will you answer my questions now? "L asked softly, breaking the quiet.

Light half-opened his eyes and looked at L through the fringe of his lashes and bangs. Tired brown orbs peeked out from half-open lids. "Shouldn't you be afraid of me after everything you saw?"

L's brow burrowed slightly at being questioned, but answered after a few moments. "I am not afraid of you since if you had any intention to kill me, you would've done so then and there in the alley."

"I see," Light nodded as raised the cup to his lips.

"Is Light really your name?"

Light paused, then blinked. "That's your first question?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Please answer my question."

Light looked stunned for a couple more seconds before putting on his usual stoic mask and answered. "Yes, it is my name… Normal people would ask what I was, you know," he chuckled as he took a sip.

"Are you only answering my questions right now because you are planning to just erase my memories of any of this like you tried to do earlier?"

A spray of tea stained the expensive upholstery as Light fought to keep the rest of the liquid down. "… What… t-the…hell?!"

L just kept staring at his guest. "Are you?"

After gathering his composure Light stared back at the similarly intense gaze but didn't answer.

"That's what you were thinking."

"I find it unsettling you can read me."

"I find it unsettling for me to know you without actually remembering you."

"…"

"That's what you did to me when I was younger wasn't it? You tampered with my memory. That's why I only have a hazy recollection of what happened."

"… Yes, I did, and I find it amazing that you seem to recall me."

"I wasn't supposed to."

Light sighed and leaned forward to place the cup and saucer on the coffee table, averting his gaze. "You weren't supposed to."

L tightened his grip on his knees. "Tell me what really happened."

Light clasped his hands together, elbows on his knees. "Shouldn't you be asking me about Teru?"

"Whatever Mikami is, it is irrelevant. He is still the murderer as is proven by the evidence, not to mention what I witnessed. You, on the other hand, are a mystery that has been nagging me for these past thirteen years. I want to know the truth, Light, and only you can tell me. I do not like unsolved mysteries. Also, I feel that by telling me the events of that night would clarify some questions I have on Mikami as well."

Light looked up once more into L's eyes, hesitating.

"You didn't need to come here," L said. "No one would believe what I saw, and you know that."

Brown eyes widened.

"You need me for something, and I would consider giving you that something if don't keep anything from me. Also, you must promise to never attempt to influence my memories from this point on. If not, I will never help you."

"What makes you so sure I will keep that promise?"

"I am L, and I have already written an account of tonight's events and my conjectures and saved it where only I can access it. Whether you erase my memory or not, I will be able to read that report and I swear by my reputation, I will hunt you down for answers. In the event that I meet my untimely demise, it would then be forwarded to my subordinates with indisputable instructions of the same nature. Whether they believe my story or not, they will do as I say. They are very loyal. So you see, Light, it would just be easier and less trouble for us both if you just do as I ask, because unless you can escape to outer space, I will find you."

"…If I didn't know better, L, I'd think you were more dangerous than I am," Light whispered.

"Who knows," L huffed, "maybe I am."

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"I found Mikami in the alley," Light said.

The slivers of dawn were beginning to drift into the room. They had been talking for a couple of hours covering what really happed years ago, and what Light technically was. L didn't want to believe it of course. He was a man who thrived on logic and fact. Creatures like Light and Mikami were myths to him; at least they used to be. But how could he disregard what he saw? Mikami drinking the thug dry, Light soaring with him over Tokyo, Light's uncanny ability to hypnotize, and his eyes that could turn from honey brown to gold in a second. There was also the fact that though the incident in the cemetery happened thirteen years before, Light looked barely out of his teen years. He should have been at least thirty.

"He was bleeding to death with a head wound…" Light was leaning against the French doors to the balcony, looking out to the city. L was still sitting in the same place as he had been when the conversation had begun. The cake was almost all gone and what was left of the tea had gone unpleasantly cold.

"He kept saying 'I don't want to die, I don't want to die. Please save me,' so I did. He had saved that woman from being mugged and probably raped without a second thought. It was gallant of him. I asked him first, of course, if he really wanted me to give him life, even if it meant living for a very long time… Needing to live on blood… He said yes… We walked out of that place not ten minutes later.

"I taught him our ways. Basically took him under my wing," Light smirked. "He was very grateful and saw me as his god – since I saved him from death and gave him all that power."

Beyond the balcony, dawn was breaking. The horizon was beginning to glow yellow and orange. The sounds of the streets below were getting louder, more lively.

"He was a quick learner. He had a good heart, a good soul, to begin with and soon he was helping me eradicate the soulless from around here. He had become my first friend in many years."

Light stopped his tale as the sun slowly rose from the horizon. The blue hue of the city slowly faded into glowing yellow, before changing again into their normal grays of concrete and steel. L waited patiently for him to continue. It had been a long night and his guest had told him more than he had expected he'd reveal. He still had to find out what Light wanted from him, and as the October morning came into the room, he knew that part of the conversation was almost there.

He looked at the young-looking man's face, illuminated by the sun. Light was so still, chest barely rising and falling from the breaths he took. He still kept looking out into the glare of the morning, thinking deeply. His eyes were brown at the moment, but they glinted with the gold of the sunrise.

"I went to London for an assignment and left Teru to take care of things here. I even went back to Winchester, to that cemetery. I don't know why. I guess I had a feeling I'd run into you again." Light stole a glance at L with a chuckle. "Looks like I was right."

L gave him an almost imperceptible nod, and Light looked back into the skyline.

"Then I heard that there was trouble here about a month ago. I couldn't come back right away because I wasn't finished with my business in England. When I did come back, I found out that he had been…is… making a spectacle." Light's gaze shifted to his shoes. "I had just caught up with him the other night. It took me days to track him down. If he keeps on doing this, he might make a mistake… and he'll lose his soul."

"Mistake?" L ventured.

Light snapped his head up at the question, having almost forgotten he wasn't alone in the room. "Yes… As I said before, there are two types of our kind. There is the True and there is the soulless."

"You mean one can become the other?"

Light shook his head. "Not exactly. You only have one soul. Lose it, and it can never be returned. The True may lose his soul, but a soulless has nothing left."

"And you are a… True, as it were."

Light smiled and reached his hand out in response, letting his skin catch the sun being spilling into the room. "Yes, and so is Teru, and I want to catch him before he does something stupid and lose everything."

"How does one become soulless?"

Light slips his hands into his pockets before he answers. "For one to become a True, one must ask to be turned. It's his or her decision. If one is turned without consent, the one who turns that person will lose his soul and will become nothingness when he dies. The one who is turned will be condemned to the darkness as the soulless is, but the when he dies he may have his soul… recycled."

"Recycled?"

"Reincarnated."

"Ah… So you are afraid that Mikami might accidentally turn one of his victims."

"Yes. He used to be very calm and collected. I believe the blood lust is getting to him. If it gets too much, who knows what he'll do."

L raises his thin eyebrows. "I see."

"I suppose you never believed in these sorts of things before," Light says in amusement.

"I admit I am still waiting to wake up and find that this is some elaborate dream," L nods and bites his thumb. "So basically, the soulless are the vampires of myths and legends."

"The ones that turn to dust under the sun and dies with a simple stake through the heart," Light nods.

"And True Vampires don't?"

"As you can see, no, we don't. Rather, we revert back into our human form during the day, so we can walk out into the sun and drink tea as you do."

"No flying, no super human strength, no hypnotizing abilities?"

"Not when the sun's up."

"If someone kills you during the day, do you die?"

"In a way, but we come back to life when the night comes."

"So it's not so easy to kill a True vampire then?"

"No, it's not."

"And of course you won't tell me how."

"It's not like you can do it anyway, L."

L sighs and ruffles his already messy hair. He uncurls himself from his perch and puts his own hands into his pockets. "Since True Vampires drink tea, I suppose you drink coffee too then?," L says as he walks towards the door, "I believe I need some, and we may discuss what exactly it is you need from me as we eat breakfast." L looks back at the figure by the French doors. "Do you eat at all?"

"Coffee would be nice right now, thank you," Light smiles and follows L out. "And yes, I eat normal human food."

L leads the way to the kitchen. "You told Mikami that he needed to 'survive by their blood.' Do you mean to say you feed on blood as well?"

"When the moon is full," Light began. "We need to feed on the living, but otherwise, those quaint little packs from the blood bank will do for dinner."

L turns to look at his guest and asks, "What happens if you don't get blood during the full moon?"

Light smiles. "If we don't feed on blood at all and especially fail to on the night of the full moon, my dear sleuth, we get very desperate."

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Author's Notes: Hmm… so yes, introduce the characters; introduce the conflict; introduce the ideas… This is the introduction chapter! XD More action on the next one! This will be a relatively short multi-chapter. Maybe three to five. Anyhow, I just wanted to write my own vampire story. I also wanted to write vampire!L, but that's another tale all together. Anyhow, I hope things weren't so confusing here. 'Til next time! Reviews please!

~Sunday~