Chapter 1
1997 - Winchester, England
"Watari? Is it time to leave?"
The elderly man nodded, but the words that followed weren't affirming the motions he made. "L, would you mind if we postpone our flights? Some urgent business has come up that I would appreciate being able to attend to."
Quillish Wammy was ever so polite as he spoke, but both of them knew that L would never reject any request that Watari made of him. Just as Watari had never turned down anything for L, that was within the realms of possibility of course, in the nine years that they had been together so far.
Sometimes the dark haired boy resented the formality with which they spoke. Once he'd asked Watari why he, the man that had taken him into his home and given him everything for education to opportunities in life, insisted on speaking to him as though they were not equal. The older man had answered that while he had done all those things, that L himself had also contributed so much to his own life, that he deserved the respect he showed him. It was a strange relationship that the pair shared, but L guessed that he if he had the power to re-write the world, he wouldn't change a thing about it.
"What's the matter?" L asked as he met Watari's eyes. He wasn't always one hundred percent in tune with the emotions of others and the nuances with with those emotions were portrayed by humanity, but Watari was a different story. L could see the flicker of grief in the withered lies of his handler's face, even if he was carefully trying to disguise it from him.
Watari gave a soft, sad sigh. After a few moments of careful reflection, he spoke. "A former college of mine was in an accident that claimed his life. His wife passed away not even six months ago from illness, and their two children have no other family remaining or anywhere else to go." He said, reflecting. "I think that it's only right to bring them here, where they can be provided for."
L nodded softly, his long fingers playing with the wrapper of a sweet that was lying in front of him. "Where are they now?"
"Lyon, France. Their father owned a small cottage from which he liked to work from during the summer months. They travelled so far around the world the rest of the year, and I supposed it was also so that the children would have at least one place they could call home, that they knew they would return to." It was just a little too much detail, but Watari found that speaking it allowed helped.
Truth be told, he hadn't seen his former colleague since the day of his wedding about fifteen years previously, but at the time they had been close and they'd kept in touch over the next decade and half. Even when it was sparring, the bonds of friendship were still there, hence his desire to ensure that his children didn't end up in an average community orphanage. One that most likely could hardly provide for the children it already had, that might resent taking more in, and one that certainly wasn't capable of challenging the minds of these children.
With such an intelligent man for a father, Watari knew that the children each already spoke three languages, and were advancing in the things they had already been taught in their homeschooling.
Such minds had to be cultivated, and protected. And at the very least, he owed it to his friend to ensure his children were properly looked after.
L nodded, his eyes turning back to the computer screen that was in front of him, It was the only thing illuminating the room - the soft glow from the electronic device his personal substitute for the light he had drawn the curtains to block out.
The screen itself depicted images one would usually consider too ghastly for even a sixteen year old, but these were daily viewing for him. The pictures from a crime scene of a brutal murder. The case had been occupying his attention all day until the soft knock on the door had announced Watari's presence in the few minutes previous.
He dropped the sweet wrapper from his hand and onto the ground before reaching out to grab another, unwrapping it and popping it into his mouth in one smooth motion.
"I'll wait here until you return then, Watari." His words were slightly muffled by the candy in his mouth. "Please have a safe trip."
Watari sat in between the two children on the train that was taking them from Lyon, back into London. From there, Roger had organised the chauffeur to pick them up and escort the three of them directly back to Wammy's House.
In the whole time that they'd been on the train, Watari had kept a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder as she watched the countryside fly past them. and the other maintained a soft grip on the boy's knee in an attempt to provide warmth and comfort to the children.
Neither child has so much as spoken a single word since he'd appeared before them. All the introductions and explanations had been done on their behalf by the police officer that had been the one to take them in for the few days since their father had died.
He'd said that they hadn't spoken to him either.
They listened though. That was the first mistake that those around them appeared to have made. They assumed that because they were quiet, they were drawn into their own minds and grief, but that was far from the case.
The twelve year old girl, her eyes had held a glimmer of recognition when Watari introduced himself by his real name. Of course, there had been no response, but the brief change in her eyes had told him more than enough; more than her words could have if she'd spoken.
And the boy was only six years old but already reading books meant for those three times his age. He'd had such a novel in his hands when Watari had arrived and hadn't moved even when the girl had at least shook his hand in way of a greeting. Nothing came from him except the soft sounds of the pages rubbing against each other as he turned them every minute or so.
No one else noticed when the turning stopped while Watari was explaining Wammy's House to the officers.
The boy's head was still looking down at the page he was mid way through turning, but his eyes were craned to the corner, watching where the adults sat, something in their conversation having piked his interest.
He knew that he had made the right decision in deciding to bring them to Wammy's House. The girl seemed quite sharp, and the boy had shown so much promise in the few hours that they'd been together. He was certainly the type of child that he'd had his heart set on when he'd established Wammy's House specifically, out of all his other orphanages.
He'd already found A and B, Alternate and Back Up, and while they already had their paths in life and fulfilled the main meaning of the institution, there was always more room for those that could be cultivated into the next greatest minds in their generation. And Watari truly felt like he had something to work with here.
They were standing in an ornately decorated office.
"Are these them?" Another man asked, looking down at her. She met his gaze easily with a stare that would look impassive, but her stomach was knotted with hesitation. For days now, she and her littler brother had been shuffled from person to person, house to house, and now they were in a completely different country entirely. She had no idea what to truly expect.
Well, that was a lie.
She'd recognized the man who'd picked them up from Lyon, Quillish Wammy, the second he'd said his name. Their father had mentioned him on numerous occasions, talking of their exploits when they were younger, and what his old friend had been doing in the most recent years.
Maintaining an institution - well, orphanage - for gifted children.
"Children, this is Roger." She snapped out of her mental monologue as she realized that Quillish had knelt down in front of the two of them. The elderly man's eyes flickered down to her brother's fingers knotted between her own before meeting their eyes in the next moment, the movement so fast she even questioned that she saw it. "He is the caretaker of this institution when I am away, and someone that you can consider to be a parental figure for as long as you are here."
Roger didn't seem very paternal, she noted. In fact, he seemed a little uncomfortable around the two of them. She got the feeling this wasn't his first job choice.
Quillish stood back up, turning to Roger. "I'm going to inform Ryuzaki of my return, and then retire. It's been a tough few days and I need to rest before Ryuzaki and I take our leave tomorrow."
Roger nodded. "I took care of rescheduling the flights for the two of you."
"Thank you. May I ask how he was during my absence?"
"Stayed in his room, ate whatever sugary poison I brought him." Roger chuckled, though it was a dry laugh. "Don't you think you indulge him too much? Some sunshine and decent food would probably do wonders for him and his cases."
Quillish smiled, a fond twinkle in his eyes. "Ryuzaki is already happy with how things are progressing in relation to his work."
"Of course he is. You know what I'm talking about though." Roger replied. "His personality could use a little improving."
"I'll be sure to inform him of your suggestions."
The caretaker rolled his eyes. "Tell the genius that he'll probably be able to solve twice as many cases if he attempts to understand other people more."
"I'll be sure to tell him." Quillish said again before seemingly remembering the two children by his side. Both had been more than a little tuned out during the conversation between the two adults, though they looked up when they were noticed again. "Roger," he gestured to her brother who preemptively untangled his hand from his sisters, "Would you mind showing him to his room? I'll take the girl, because I'll be heading down that way."
"No problem." Roger nodded. He gave the children another uncomfortable glance before taking her brother's hand himself and pulling the young boy though the half open door and down the hallway. She listened to their footsteps disappear before turning to look up at Qullish.
She still didn't know where 'that way' was.
"Come." He said kindly, once again resting a firm hand on her shoulder, steering her out the same door. "I'll take you to the room you'll stay in while you're here."
They made their way down the hall, but the opposite direction from Roger and her brother.
"You'll be sharing with one the slightly older girls. Her name is A, and she'll be able to help you get used to being here. She's told me that you don't have to hesitate thinking of her as an older sister if you'd like, and I expect she'll probably repeat that to you herself." Quillish told her.
Up until that moment, she hadn't spoken to the man, keeping her silence in the face of everything that had happened and talking only to her brother in hushed whispers, but one breath escaped her lips. "A?" Her confusion was obvious.
There was a brief moment of hesitation on his part, probably surprise that she'd finally said anything.
"A." Quillish replied, a little firmly. She felt like he was commanding her acceptance of this strange name. "There are some things we do a little differently here, and A will explain them to you."
There was no need for him to continue his words, because they were outside the room that would belong to her by that point. He knocked one and the polished door opened within a second.
"Mr. Wammy!" The girl - A - greeted with the brightest of smiles. She was a tall girl with long brown hair, and creamy skin. The first thing that she noticed about A was that she looked like perfection - the only thing marring her appearance the slightest were the dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn't slept properly for a few days. Still, she managed to seem wide awake with no effort. "Is this her?"
"It is." Quillish nodded, given her a gentle nudge in A's direction. She turned around a little to look back at him as she moved into the room. He'd taken a step back, signaling that he was about to leave. "Good luck." He said to her, before nodding to A as he headed back off. A watched until he was gone before closing the door, still smiling.
"This is my room, but I guess it's also your room now." She said, gesturing around. "They told me that most of your things are in Lyon being packed up. If there is anything you want, or don't want, I'll help you talk to the right person to make sure they get here - but Mr. Wammy is very well off, so we have a pretty large budget here. Meaning that you'll get a few new things too. So, if there's also anything that'll make you feel a bit more comfortable to start with, I'll help you to get whatever that is too. Just let me know-" The endless stream of words finally came to a halt for a moment. "I'm A, by the way. It's nice to meet you."
Silence followed for a moment before she realised that A was waiting for an answer. "Um, I'm-"
"Oh wait, no don't tell me. Has anyone told you about the names we used for each other here?" A asked, and when she shook her head, the endless stream of words started up once more, though the sound was oddly comforting. "I'll explain a little more about why later, but at Wammy's House, we don't use our real names. People here call me A, but it's just an alias, and other than myself, Mr. Wammy - oh and maybe Roger - no one knows what my real name is.
I guess it's because of our connections here, and that most of us will probably move into incredibly high positions in the world, being known by an alias is a form of protection. Have you ever heard of the legends that some societies have? Like of magical creatures with insane power and status, but sometimes their true names are found out by humans and they're able to be controlled by that human who came to know their name?" A didn't actually wait for an answer to that question, before she continued. "Anyway, tell me your name, but not your real name. Come up with something that you like but make sure you're happy with it, because it's going to stick as soon as I introduce you to the other kids here. And keep the other one to yourself, close to you in your heart, because you never know when your life might depend on it being protected."
The girl's brow furrowed a little.
She may have kept quite, she may have been able to not cry, but the last few days had truly been terrible. She'd lost her father, found herself in England no where near the place she'd been calling home with her father and brother, and she had nothing to her name at that moment in time. Except her name. That was all she had.
And now she was supposed to give it up? No, she was supposed to hide it close to her heart, but wasn't that just the same?
A part of her already knew that this place wouldn't be where she would fit in with ease, not when her father had told her stories of the amazing feats children younger than her from here has accomplished-
"Have you decided on one?" A was still smiling, still expectant.
The girl though a moment longer, and then finally nodded.
"I'm Ivy." She replied, grateful that she hadn't burst out the first thing that had come to her mind. She at least had reason for the name, a connection to her true name in an obscure meaning few would probably ever work out. Her heart felt hollow as she wondered what name she would be calling her brother by tomorrow.
"Nice to meet you, Ivy."
Ivy forced a small smile before she turned away so that the older girl couldn't see the new tears that had sprung up in her eyes. Everything had just become a littler too much.
L narrowed his eyes at the young girl from across the courtyard. She was sitting on the grass in the sun as the other children danced around in various stages of playing games. Her hands were knotted in the green blades, balled into fists.
No one gave her a glance, no one invited her to join them. Of course, no one ever did.
The children at Wammy's House tended to stick to their own little groups of friends and for those who had just arrived, it was increasingly difficult to break into such tightly knit social circles. It's something he'd never managed to do himself, but of course, he'd never really desired to do so either. Maybe that had something to do with his lack of friends or social stimulation.
A thought did cross his mind though, that if those children knew that L was standing only a few meters away from him, they would flock to him with questions and eyes filled to the brim with awe and admiration. His reaction to that idea answered his question to an extent. If he'd been craving what they had, he might not have felt a little repulsed at the idea.
It was true. The dark haired teenager cared little for what the other children there were doing, and who they were or weren't interacting with. The only reason he'd spared this girl a second glance was because L had caught sight of the tears lining her blank stare out of the corner of his keen eyes as he'd dared to take a moment outside to clear his head so that he could return to his current case with a fresh pair of eyes.
She was the girl that Watari had returned to the orphanage with only a day before. He'd seen her from a distance then too, led through the gates by the elderly man. Watari had kept a firm hand on the small of her back, pushing her forward, perhaps like he was afraid that she'd stop moving. An even smaller, and much younger child had been clutching at her arm - her six year old brother, Watari had told him.
Both were too young to have lost their parents so close together, his handler had said with a grim expression. He'd left it at that though, because couldn't the same be said for all of the children here? Even for L's circumstance too...
He didn't dwell on that though. If he let every sad story in the world consume him, there was no way he'd be able to maintain the mentality he'd worked so hard to achieve. Someone who was already known as one of the world's greatest minds and detectives couldn't let the gravity of such manners weigh them down.
And yet, he felt compelled to slowly make his way over to the glistening eyed girl.
L stopped in front of her, the shadow cast over her face detailing his slightly hunched form. The girl didn't move to look at him though, even though she had to be aware of his presence. Her only movement was to wipe away the tears forming in one of her eyes, and he wondered if that was prompted from a desire to not seem weak. If she had reached such a point in her grief that she didn't care about her appearance or image presented, she would have let them flow.
Watari had told him that the children hardly spoke, and neither cried, so perhaps she had reached a point where it was all coming out.
He forced himself to stop such thoughts. Always over analysing things. Of course, that was what he did, but Watari had told him one of the reasons he struggled in social situations was because he tried to look at every aspect of ordinary life like it was a case...
"Are you okay?" He finally asked, quite tentatively. He didn't expect the girl to quickly raise her head, and he almost recoiled when she met his eyes with such sudden emotion. There was something fierce in the depths of her expression, a question to him shifting in her grey eyes.
Why are you asking me such a question, they seemed to say.
Of course I'm not okay.
Just as it occurred to him that it may not have been the best question to ask, the look on her face softened and the tears resurfaced. She reached out a hand and tightly gripped the hem of his slightly oversized white shirt, while finally letting the tears roll down her face steadily without interruption.
L shifted a little uncomfortably, his bare feet curling into the grass and dirt he was standing on.
And this was another reason he had little experience in social circumstances. It was so much easier to distance himself from the fragility and fluctuations of other humans. He had his own emotions, however mild, that he needed to deal with. He didn't need anyone else's.
Why did he do this? He should have just stayed where he'd been - working on a case and waiting for Watari to retrieve him for that they could go to Los Angeles where they were needed by the FBI for a while.
There had been a pile of sweets in his room, a much better alternative to this situation that he'd put himself in. Yes, he could be eating cake right now. Or candy, or anything. Sweet things didn't just help his brain focus. They helped with stressful situations like this.
Deprived of the numerous things he would have liked to be consuming. His hand made its way to his mouth as he began to nibble on his thumbnail.
He knew he was overreacting, but that didn't change that he had little idea of what to do next.
L stared down at the girl, his black eyes meeting her grey ones, seeing what she would do. He couldn't pull away while part of his shirt was balled up in her first, and when she made no move to let go, he slowly crouched down in front of her, getting down to her level. He didn't know why, but the act of towering over her while she was so vulnerable didn't seem right.
"I saw you from over there." He murmured, looking down at her hand and his shirt rather than continue to meet her eyes. "You were crying, and I wanted to see if you were okay. If I could help at all..." He left the question their hanging, in hopes that she would ask for something that could help her feel better, rather than just continue to have him stand there. He wondered if she knew how clueless he was behind those grief stricken eyes.
"Ryuzaki?" Watari's voice sounded behind him and L turned a little, catching sight of his handler in his peripheral vision. He almost didn't respond to the use of his favourite alias before he remembered that like himself, Watari didn't want the children to realise that L was there. It was better if he was just another child for that moment. "It's time to go."
"Yes, of course." L muttered, feeling the girl's fingers relax and free him after she heard Watari speak. He turned back to look at her. The tears were still obvious on her cheeks and even though he had little idea of what he was doing a minute before, he knew that he would feel bad leaving her like this. A little unsure of himself, he dared to reach out and brush the remainder of the tears away with shaky fingers. She didn't stop him, and when there was no trace of them on her skin, he stood up and started back to Watari, leaving her in her spot on the lawn.
As an after thought, L quickly turned back, rustling around one of his pockets as he did do. He pulled out a small lollipop, the pink colour of it's wrapping glinting in the sunlight for a moment before he grabbed her hand, curling her small fingers around the piece of candy.
"It's strawberry flavoured. My favourite."
December 5th 2005 - New York, United States of America
"Watari?"
"Yes Ryuuzaki"
"Have you still been keeping tabs on her?" He didn't mention her name, and there were multiple people that L had been keeping tabs on, but his handler still knew who he was talking about. Watari always understood.
"Of course." Watari began, placing a plate pilled with sweets down on the floor next to L's computer. "Since the last time you requested an update on her whereabouts, she made her way from Los Angeles back to Lyon very briefly before she moved to Japan. She's been there for the last six months, studying at a prestigious university in Tokyo."
"Are you aware of her contacting anyone at the orphanage?"
"There is a reason to believe that she may be maintaining contact with Matt - though the boy would never admit it- but other than that, I do not believe there is anyone else receiving word from her."
L narrowed his eyes, though the information itself was not surprising. Matt had been the one to help her set herself up so that she could leave. That much had become apparent once they'd realised she was gone all those years ago now.
"Not even her brother?"
"No. I believe that if he were to be contacted by her, he would make it known. It is true that he usually keeps to himself, but Roger has reported a few times that he has seemed even quieter than usual since she left. The reports that were put together state that she didn't even say goodbye to him when she departed."
L pressed a finger to his lips, pulling up a picture of her with his other hand. The image that was presented was simple, just an above shoulder shot detailing the details of her face and her long, platinum hair. L met those grey eyes. In the photo, they were blank. Though, bored might be a better description, like she was above posing and having her photo taken. During the second, and last time, that they had spoken those eyes had been full of harsh emotion and rage directed at him like a storm.
Ivy Raine.
She had been sixth in line. Fourth, when he took A and B out of the equation of successors.
They all burned bright for a while before they began to flicker, and then something blew them out completely. A had killed herself, B had gone insane, and Ivy had vanished.
He had suspected - no, expected - this since the moment that he got news of her departure from the orphanage. Was this another one that was determined to become an enigma for him to decipher, another punishment for himself and Watari?
It was uncanny how perfectly she matched the profile that he'd been forming in his mind. It had been a whim to ask Watari these questions, as brief as the voice in his head reminding him of Beyond Birthday, creating the thought that Kira might not just be a faceless God of Death with a childish demeanor. But rather, possibly another in the endless stream of those around the world that tried to confront him, and she was the first that came to mind from there because Beyond had been behind bars for two years now.
There were two ways he could take the Lind L Tailor broadcast. The first was the most obvious to the world. That Kira was a person with a childish sense of justice, that could kill from a distance. That Kira would think "I can kill this person now, in front of the world, and no one will be able to stop me. There's no way to find me."
The other option, the one that spoke to him in that moment, was a different end of the spectrum. What if Kira was someone with a connection to him, something he'd always promised to consider in order to prevent what happened with Beyond Birthday happening again. If he dared consider this other failed successor as Kira, it all clicked together like a puzzle being completed. A successor of his would know with all certainty that he would never reveal his face on television. They would also know that he wouldn't bother orchestrating television broadcast linked to his name if it wasn't going to serve some purpose to push the investigation forward.
These children had been trained and taught to think like him. Anyone one of them could put together the true meaning behind the broadcast. That Kira - a Kira born of a failed attempt to succeed him - would know to use the murder of Lind L Tailor as a challenge. His death wouldn't have been an outcry of childish rage, but a deliberate attempt at informing him of their general location. As if to say 'Come find me.'
Yes, it could go either way...
Ivy Raine had reason to despise him, to change from wanting to succeed him to wanting to end him. And to find out that she was living in Japan, and not to mention going to school there?
Kanto, a student, - a conclusion he had already considered based on matching the times of the few days of killing.
Now he had a potential suspect, a potential Kira.
Perhaps he was grasping at straws, but perhaps not. Relying on facts and percentages didn't negate that sometimes his strongest form of deduction was simply a feeling in the depths of his stomach.
Ivy Raine...
Could it be?
"Watari? Could you please organise flights for us to go to Japan right away?" It was time to go to Japan anyway - the Lind L Tailor broadcast that has just occurred was proof of that. Being in New York would be of no help to a case that was now centered on the Kanto region of Japan.
He would cooperate with the police and their investigation when it began, but there was something else that he would try as well, on his own. Maybe he'd be able to solve this case before it had even truly begun?