Humans who do not receive a name within 168 hours of birth are not recognized as having a name. Therefore they can not be killed by a death note.
Chapter 1: 168 hours
I was 604,680 seconds old when it happened. 10,078 minutes; 167.96 hours.
At least that is what Mauk has told me.
My parents still had not decided on a name for me. They thought that they should get to know my personality, a baby's personality, before they gave me a name. They never got that chance.
It was October 25, 1987. I was 604,000 seconds old. 10,066.66 minutes, 167.77 hours.
My parents decided to go to the grocery store. Instead of one of them going while the other would stay home with me they decided that they would both go and use this as an excuse to show off their brand new nameless baby. To see if a child whose heart had stopped beating when exposed to breast milk would be fine out in the chilly October air.
O what fools these mortals be.
They choose to take a baby out that had already been clinically dead once. A baby who no longer has their numbers floating above them as Mauk would say. I already wasn't supposed to be alive, yet they decided to tempt fate.
We arrived at the grocery store when I was 604, 560 seconds old. 10,076 minutes, 167.93 hours.
We entered the store and my father grabbed a shopping basket. They headed down a canned vegetable aisle while pushing me in my stroller. I do not remember any of it but Mauk says I just laid there and stared at a plush horse that hung from the stroller. They stood there and debated what type of canned vegetables they should buy.
Then a loud pop and screams were heard. The store was being robbed.
My parents were not some of the smartest people in the world. Both had only just graduated from high school and neither planned nor wanted to continue their education. Unlike others they didn't have any 'street smarts' either. So it should also come to no surprise that neither had any common sense.
Instead of getting down on the floor like the others inside the store, my father decided to act like a hero. He ran straight at the robber and lifted his arm as if he were to punch them. The thief turned around and shot him in the head. My father was dead before he even hit the ground. I was 604,680 seconds when he was shot. 10,078 minutes; 167.96 hours.
My mother didn't learn anything from my father's death. She ran from the canned vegetable aisle towards the door. Not even bothering to grab my stroller. The robber saw her trying to escape, so he shot her in the heart. I was 604,740 seconds old. 10,079 minutes, 167.98 hours.
Mauk says that at the moment my mother was shot I began to cry, as if I knew the last link I had to the world had been killed. He says that the robber turned at the sound of the cry and stalked over to the stroller. That the robber held a gun to my head and told everyone in the store that this was an example of what would happen to anyone who tried to escape and anyone who was with them.
The robber then caulked the trigger, gave a smirk, and grabbed his chest. The gun dropped out of his hand and he hit the floor, dead. I was 604,800 seconds old. 10,080 minutes, 168 hours.
The papers reported the next day that Steven Johnson, age 23, had died of a heart attack during a robbery. In the process of the robbery Monica, 18, and Chris, 19, Norton had been shot and killed. They left behind a little baby girl who would be staying at the hospital until further notice.
I have only asked Mauk once why he was following my family that day. I have only asked once why he saved my life. Once, when I was five. I asked why he would want to save a human without numbers or a name. A human that he would not be able to kill later to increase his life span.
He only gave me one answer.
"I was bored."