Disclaimer: Death note is owned by Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi. I own the OC.

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Author's Notes: a fit of an idea stuck in my mind after I've watched episode 37 and read the one-shot chapter 109 in the manga, and I just have to vent it out. This story follows the chapter 109 of the Death Note manga. If you want to read about chapter 109, you can go to my profile and see the link I've placed.

Here goes. (holds breath) Meanwhile, read it slowly, k? ;D

July 7, 2008 - Revised

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Half broken memories

A fiction created by Hideki Tensei

Chapter 1:

Future

Year 2013, April 23

After the cheap-Kira case incident

-The SPK headquarters-

In an exclusive wide room just beside the main stronghold of the SPK headquarters were rows upon rows of painstakingly constructed tarot card towers, so many in multitude it was hard to tell what figure it formed, but individually, they seemed to form the shape of an "L". The throng of cards continued till the vast reaches of the room, appearing like a sea of triangle-patterned cards. At the edge of it all, Near crouched on his legs, quietly building up a new batch of an "L" figure from the bottom.

He took a card from the deck lying plainly abandoned amidst all the jumble around him, surreally balanced it on top of the other to form a triangle pattern, then moved on to do the same thing next, his focus and concentration entirely fixed upon his work.

Although his external appearance might fool anyone looking at him now and mistake him to be a manic, extremely meticulous young man wasting his time building his own empire of cards, his mind incredibly works thrice its critical thinking process, piecing up clues and hints about murder and mystery cases which he will eventually solve.

With the end of the recent cheap-Kira case however, it all changed. Near had spent years investigating Kira, and now that he won and there was nothing grand enough to solve, he couldn't help feeling empty again when he shouldn't have. And he didn't know why.

Maybe the excitement was over. The thrill of expectation had died down… it was back to business again. Back to the usual normal cases he could solve in one day.

He sighed.

He knew he shouldn't be feeling this way. He should be glad the Kira case is over, and that the most dangerous weapon in the world, the Death Note, was gone forever. Inwardly frustrated at the enigma of a feeling taking over him, Near attempted to brainwash himself and focus on balancing the cards, meanwhile let his mind drift to the case currently in issue.

The case was about a secret research institution in Russia, abducting intelligent and talented children all over the world then brainwashing them in order to suit their purpose. Because of the institution's secrecy and great influence, nobody knew it existed. Some suspected it but they did not go so far as to claim it was truly there. Supposedly, the one who filed the case was an anonymous man who witnessed the crime taking place, but the means by which he contacted the SPK was questionable too. His testimony was doubtful--suspicious at most.

But regardless, it was handed to them as a mystery case, and it should be solved… Gevanni had already confirmed the existence of the said institution after gathering outsider information. The gradual decline of noted intellectuals around the area were diminishing at a fixed rate at certain time. Therefore, the information the caller alleged had to be real.

"But there's no hard evidence to indict this case… if there is, it will remain vague." Near thought, annoyed, "The caller didn't bother presenting himself as a normal victim by leaving official information either. At this rate, investigating the case in the dark like this would act like a double edge sword…" It felt like a joke that meant to lash out at him.

Somebody had to provide him with concrete evidences or clues before he can take a move to solving it, didn't they know that? Frustrated, Near tried focusing on the single clue he received, but it was more like a description than a clue.

Given the circumstances of the call he received yesterday and the information provided, he had every right to be doubtful and reject this case as hopeless.

No one was supposed to know about the personal telephone number the SPK keep at the headquarters… Except for the people who had to be kept in the dark about Near's identity, they would have the chance of hacking it... Otherwise, the telephone number was off limits to outsiders. With its one way tracking device, the phone cannot record or trace any incoming and outgoing call, as it deletes it right after it was made.

So what about the identity of this suspicious caller?

The "caller" was a guy. Near was incidentally alone when the call was made, and he had picked it up, and listened to his incoherent words telling him to save his little girl on the phone, emotionally strangling in his grief meanwhile pinpointing about the Russian research institute as crazily depicted as possible. Near even remembered he described it as an asylum. The man was not giving any details at all. If he only knew he was not helping.

Just when did the SPK turn into a hotline for distressed and borderline people seeking help? He thought, remembering how the caller hanged up after giving him the "details". Then again, he wondered why Quillsh's specialized telephone had to erase all the incoming and outgoing data if it was going to be of any aid to the SPK's investigation at all. But that was beside the point.

Was this even a case? Judging from the facts Gevanni had given, it could be. That is, Gevanni had given descriptions of the institute, clues coming from flighty rumors taken from the local bar and restaurant, and several obvious data, all in one day's tour to gather surface information. That was all.

If they were going to solve it—if Near decided he wished to solve this… it would seem like a complete waste of time and effort to invest on. First of all, the client was not referred or came from the FBI, which naturally should have been for all his cases. The caller could be any stranger out to test them for all they know.

But there was the fact that it was clearly a mystery case… the caller being anonymous in the first place was one of the reasons he should undertake it. It was Near's nature.

"Gevanni," Near pushed the call button on the monitor screen and was promptly answered by an affirmative voice.

"Near."

"…I want you to continue investigating the institution in Russia."

A momentary silence met his command. Gevanni, Near thought, must be struggling for control as he heard him. He must be as confounded as he is. But like him, he knew he had no choice but to cooperate and solve it.

Throughout the years of investigating Kira, SPK officially became an investigation team comprising of the same four members and up till now, still continues to solve cases despite the end of the Kira case. The team members, Anthony Lester, Stephen Gevanni and Halle Lidner were now officially part of the group, owing to the fact that they intended to pursue their respective jobs.

"…Yes." Gevanni's tight reply resumed, as though forced it to come out willingly, "Do you have any special instructions for this case?" he thought it proper to ask. Gevanni didn't want to look unwilling to do his part.

Near thought it over, then shrugged. It was really unavoidable. "Maintain your anonymity. Keep your identity under cover as much as possible. Judging from the anonymous call I received, someone already knows what we do. But this is not reason for us to expose ourselves recklessly." He narrated gravely, "Gevanni, I want you to report immediately after you have gathered information."

"…Understood."

He hanged up, leaving the phone beeping the busy dial tone.

"Someone knows our identity. Although it was a simple call, the distress of the caller seeking for help was made apparent and clearly aimed at us. What could be the purpose..?" Near thought, his facial expression turning into a grimace as he wracked his mind for an answer but found none. He could only speculate and assume endlessly. "If it was to move us into investigating that institution, that would be a complete giveaway. The caller would not have bothered calling the personal number if it were only to inform us of human trafficking. He did not go through lengths to find out the personal number just for that… it has to be a motive…an indication… or a warning?"

Twirling a lock of his hair in his finger distractedly, Near glanced at the phone lying in front of the giant monitor as he crouched in the same sluggish way, narrowing his obsidian eyes, contemplating. The phone was specifically designed to be untraceable, so incoming and ongoing calls have no records whatsoever. It was made that way for the anonymous dealings he has to make as a detective. Now because of that, it became part of the puzzle he needed to solve.

Standing himself languidly, all 5 feet 8 inches of his height, he walked towards his kingdom of tarot cards, sat down on his legs, then began the meticulous work of balancing the tarot cards on top of each other. His thoughts tried to dwell on the case, but after a while of echoing silence and solitude, it inevitably veered into nothingness until he was no longer aware he was not thinking at all.

Near focused his complete attention on the pattern of the cards, his mind totally blank. The room remained in silence, cloaking the area in quiet concentration, and only his breathing can be heard. As he was placing the next card on top of another, he shifted his foot comfortably. That's when the shuffling sounds from his foot awakened him to reality.

And it was in that moment of distraction that the thought thudded in his mind like a heart beat, stopping everything in place.

What does the future hold for you, Near?

If you continue doing all this puzzles and solving mysteries, will you live?

…

Just like that?

Near halted, numbness taking over his body and paralyzing him in an instant…

The silence ate away as the implication stamped and adhered itself to his mind, infecting every single shred of logic he had left.

Those words… The tone of the voice reminded him of a mother. Probably a mother he never knew of, but its tone was unmistakably maternal--implacably caring.

You do nothing but solve mysteries every day. You don't do anything else.

Do you really want to continue your life like this?

They can't possibly be true. Those thoughts did not just come out of his mind.

Or maybe--it might just have some truth in it.

In that span of time as he held the card in mid-air, his eyes stark wide and staring into nothingness and the cold, eerie voice asked the question in his mind, he always knew he dreaded to answer it.

Because it did not belong in his life. It was alien and out of place. It was a jargon language that didn't belong in his repertoire of logical reasoning and critical deductions.

Not once did the possibility occur in his mind of concerning himself with his own future.

People around him always gave him the support he needed, and he was always at his own pace, leisurely solving mysteries and cases through his great deductive mind. He had not experienced strife because he possessed an unwavering calmness in the most hectic of situations, so he didn't need to think anything will be enough to pull him down.

He didn't have to care about his own welfare. And if it comes to it--if it would solve him the infamous Kira case, he would even go so far as to risk his life. He would do that much and still be unfeeling about his own life.

Until that disturbing thought came and aroused a part of him that was never there before, Near treated his life as was expected of him: to continue on L's legacy. It felt partly an obligation and a hobby.

Near only cared about winning and doesn't accept failures. As L's successor, he owed himself that much… Being L's successor means taking over what he had failed to finish. He was honed to appreciate at the same time excel in solving puzzles and mysteries clear cut. He has the same personality as L, even behaved like him. They have their own individual quirks and habits. They have many aspects in common.

Now, while all that is acceptable as standard to Near, he has one thing he could not vouch for: Would he also die like L?

L had died without finishing the case, and left it halfway through in the hands of Near. L lost his life abruptly, without living to experience the things life had to offer… Near knew L would probably care less about such mundane things as that, even if it was his choice.

But still, even if that were true, then it would be like accepting that his life was a mere instrument to be used in place of L's, a medium to continue his goal and live on in his name. A rather selfish advocacy…

For Near, it would've been all right. Even he could welcome the fact that he was being used by the orphanage to carry on what L had started. Near admired L. He admired his ideal in life and what he did to achieve it because it felt the same with his.

Yes, it felt the same, until recently.

The question that popped out of nowhere when his mind had temporarily gone blank was a great quake which shook many of his beliefs, making him doubt for the first time.

If he had lived his life for L's…

What about him then? What's his worth?

Did his life's purpose stretch so far only to fill in the position as L's successor, solve puzzles and play with his toys all his life?

That was the core of the question's implication. That part of him cared for himself.

And it disturbed him.

Near didn't like contradicting himself, but right now, that was what the question in his mind had formed. Out of the strict, impenetrable boundaries of Near's own belief's and perceptions in life, in that circle of tight discipline and single-minded way of thinking, pushes a new thought out of the blue and into the black. Like a very notorious visitor. It was like introducing all other jargon terms into the picture: remembering the family he never had, the friends he never made, the life he never touched, and the society he had never breached.

He was a loner--

Alone.

If everyone around him disappears, he would shrivel and crumble due to sheer lack of support.

The people around him: the SPK, the orphanage, Roger… they were his backbone. And without them, he was nothing.

He was just a boy who keeps to himself and plays in his own world… He had the brains, but he lacked the skill to live life to support himself.

And it was the truth.

"…no…" a ragged whisper issued from his tight lips, almost coming out like a whistle in its hoarse-like quality. The hand grasping the tarot card in mid-air was white-knuckled and clenched tightly, making the card bent slightly due to the force. His palms were sweating, his skin cold and clammy. The temperature around him felt like it had dropped. His eyes were wide and staring into space as he breathes heavily. But he was not aware.

His entire world focused on the implication.

No, he cannot accept the fact that his mind had just proved him very wrong.

Nate River was not someone who accepted losing…ever.

He was not someone who easily accepts that his decisions were indecisive, not for once.

With the thought grinded into his mind, Near picked up the pieces of himself, relaxed his hands and regained slowly through a blur of consciousness that saw only half of what's in front of him. The rows upon rows of the "L" figure loomed before him like a fanatic testament of his devotion. There were countless towers of "L", all of them, he realized with startling clarity, were constructed by his own hands.

He looked at it with something like skepticism and a bit of frustration, as though he wondered briefly how he could do that and at the same time angry for thinking these thoughts.

He was "L"! Of course he would keep constructing his own pseudonym in order to think critically! What else would it be?! His thoughts hammered back in response.

Only then did he notice a solid, thin object he was holding. It was the card he was clutching with a death grip. Turning it around to look at it, he saw it had the name of the "Fool", a grinning mask of a clown peering behind black sockets for eyes, its face painted in a mocking grimace of a smile—

--Dancing, taunting him for his stupidity... mockery brimming in its face that seemed to tell him he was wrong all these time, laughing endlessly at him…

Infuriated with himself, he clenched his fist and stood, the card still in his grip. He stared hard at the face of the card with the "Fool" arcana on the front, frozen in time as it jeered at its viewer. His eyes could not root itself from its spot. The very laugh of the Foolish clown echoed around his mind, taunting him.

You will die a-lone... you will die a-lone… isn't that sad? You can't live by yourself. If everyone leaves, you will die, Near..!

Just like L!

The Fool's rictus of a smile seemed to be forming the words, rebounding in all quality until he felt it overpowering all his logic. All the years spent cloaked in heavy solitude crashed down the pipe… and it was all because of that thought.

The L towers seemed to share the Fools mockery. Standing there, its message was suddenly very clear to him. Just now, he began to doubt his ability to think what was right.

He was building L's kingdom all this time.

In an attempt to shut the foreign thoughts out, Near, frustrated even more at losing control of his emotions, felled the towers upon towers of "L" tarot cards before and around him. The towers around him felled at first, then the falling cards fell on the others and caused it to collapse too, until soon, L towers were collapsing under his foot.

And even as he watched with clouded, hard eyes, Near was determined to build another empire. And he will make sure it was his own.

--

Anthony Lester, the operation leader of the SPK, was still the pillar of the investigation team after the Kira case, with only Near as the main director. Now, he stands before the door leading to the wide room specifically crafted for Near's hobby of building tarot cards. Since the cards were such a nuisance when it comes to them especially during emergencies, the area was moved into another room, this time twice the size and height.

Near liked to do things by himself. It was one of the established norms within the confines of SPK, and the personnel were obliged to know it.

So there was no reason for Lester to hesitate whatsoever. He was only here to deliver a message.

Weird though… He thought he heard something like rain falling heavily at the other side of the door. As queer as that may be.

However, his curiosity and interest at Near's progress with the tarot card towers outweighed him, and Lester gave the door a healthy tug and pushed it all the way to the side, only to gape at the sight before and around him.

The tarot card towers with the "L" figure…

Like a magnificent display of domino blocks trampling one after another, the tower collapsed one by one like fragile pieces of wood. He first thought he saw a grand palace falling apart, then with a sudden pang of clarity realized what he heard to be heavy rain was actually the fall of thousands of cards on top of each other. From the outer Ls going inwardly to the center, it was like an orchestrated masterpiece going after another.

Near's empire was collapsing before his eyes... the months of effort he did crumbled.

Mesmerized at the sheer implication of it all, Lester had not strength to stop this… in his heart he felt utterly responsible though. With guilt, he realized he can blame himself. Perhaps it was the sound of the opening door which startled Near and caused him to topple the entire block of cards?

If it were so…

Apprehensive more than anything about Near's safety being crashed by all those cards, Lester finally broke his immobility and jumped forward towards the cascade of cards all around him. Meanwhile, as he frantically searched for the young man, his mind kept rewinding:

How can this be possible?

Lester could not take the possibility that Near might've lost his concentration and wrecked the entire towers. He had not done that for years. Maybe something else happened…

He darted his eyes to and fro. Amidst the rain of falling cards, he could barely make out anything. Panic was starting to engulf him, but he must remain calm.

Damn it! Where was Near?

The first knot of anxiety crept up his stomach, constricting it with unease. In the worst case scenario, he would be swallowed alive amidst the torrent of all these cards if he can't move…

Throughout the years, Lester had become more like Near's bodyguard and second hand man. He was always there to carry out his orders, and he was someone who could question Near's actions if it didn't seem right.

Now the big man was worried something might've happened to him…

A break, a fracture, loss of consciousness…

As he scanned the surroundings, he suddenly became aware of a distant blurry figure from afar. It was hard to tell because it was like the color of the card rain around him, but after a moment's staring and analyzing, he found out it was him.

No doubt.

Only he could crouch like that even when everything's falling apart around him.

And as Lester crossed the distances to reach his place, he recalled that time when the angry mobs had invaded their headquarters and Near had made his decision at the brink of time, as calm and unfazed as ever could be.

And then he wondered again what could've caused this downfall.

Lester reminded himself again that it couldn't be that he lost his focus. No, he can't believe that.

--

Near watched the falling cards all around him like it was snow flakes, his obsidian, unseeing eyes appeared to be reveling at the spectacle before and around him. So this was how an empire falls.

Seeing his efforts rain down upon him made him feel content. Now half of the bothersome thoughts would go away for a while.

As the cards began to fall, Near decided to enjoy the scene and find himself a nice, sitting spot right where the cards would not build up and trample him. And then, he sat on his two legs and waited.

Not long after, a voice came calling out. At the first call, he immediately knew who it was. Obviously.

"Near! Near!" Lester's harried voice called out from beyond the storm, penetrating it amidst all the confusion, "Are you alright?!"

The young man merely sat and glanced at the direction of the voice. Finally, Lester emerged and reached him, heaving and anxious at the same time.

"Near, I have to get you out of here. Let's go." He extended his hand and without waiting for Near's reply, hauled him up and dragged him away from the storm. Just like the job of a bodyguard.

The younger man did not even protest when Lester had finally let go of him and he sank down by the corner, drained. He had time to wonder what was going on with this child prodigy's head that made him commit suicide back there…

As if in answer to his questions, Near spoke.

"The L towers were constructed in such a way that leaves a space on the center. That area, although surrounded by towers, would be free of cards." He said as he stared into the distance, his eyes fixed upon the falling pieces of tarots.

And only then did Lester understand.

Near did not intend to commit suicide after all. He consciously toppled the towers himself.

"But why crash something you've worked hard building?" the question was out before he could think twice about it. He couldn't help it.

This time, Near looked at him, and he could've sworn he saw something different reflected on those eyes..

"I realized… I should have made N instead of L." with a wry smirk that made his eyes seemed harder than ever, Near left through the open door, leaving Lester staring after him.

Whatever could he mean?

He found he could not formulate any answers or even guesses to that.

That young man...

Near was certainly unpredictable no matter how he looked at it. Up till now, Lester didn't know Near would have any deviations from the legendary L. But just this once, Lester wanted to believe it. Near was unfathomable… but just this once, he also wanted to believe that there was a reason behind this, like L does.

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End notes: Any reviews except flames will be dearly appreciated! Review and tell me if I should continue because I'm having second thoughts of continuing and this was meant to be a one-shot, but since a plot popped in my head after a while, I figured I have to make it by chapter.

This chapter was originally meant to be a pilot chapter, but I made it as chapter-ish as possible while I get back on my studies. Therefore, nothing is definite at first: the summary and title, even my penname is likely to change. I hope this won't be of any inconvenience to you.

Until then! I'll update maybe in a week or earlier.

-kit