Prologue: The Book
"So, remember, don't answer the phone unless you know it's me, make sure all the front door is locked as well as all the windows, and do not open the front door no matter what, okay?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Good. I'll be back in a few hours, hopefully."
"Yes, Mom."
"And stop sounding like a broken record."
"Yes, Mom."
The woman sighed, before turning to the door. With one last look back, she then pulled it open and stepped outside, closing it behind her with a soft murmur of, "I'll be back soon."
The child blinked, cocking her head briefly before striding into the kitchen and switching the television on with the remote. Propping her elbows up onto the tabletop and leaning her slender chin into her hands, the youngster let calm, but curious eyes survey the television screen.
After several moments of listening to the man depicted on the screen yap away, the child sighed and switched it off, momentarily puffing out her cheeks on boredom.
"Bor-iiiiing. More people died, again. Robber went into a bank to steal a large quantity of wealth, and in the process, ended up murdering several bystanders while attempting to flee unsuccessfully."
She sighed for what must have been the millionth time that hour.
'I know I should be more concerned about death, but it's so common nowadays that I get bored so easily from watching the news. I wasn't like that when I was younger, now was I? I used to get horrified from that kind of stuff…'
Blinking, the eleven-year old clambered off the chair, stretching, before making her way towards the stairs, climbing her way up to the top before slipping silently into her room. Shivering slightly from the darkness, she swiftly flicked the light switch on, causing brightness to flood through the room as she took a seat on her small twin bed.
She knew she'd never live this down if her brother had been home. "Aw, big sis is still scared of the dark!" he would cry mockingly, sticking his tongue out childishly. But she brushed the thought aside, beginning to chant under her breath.
"I'm not scared of the dark, I'm not scared of the dark, I am not s—"
Abruptly, something fell through the air, slamming rather uncomfortably upon the top of her head before rebounding and bouncing onto the ground. Yelping loudly with terror, the child curled tightly into a tiny ball, squeezing her eyes shut tight, attempting to suppress her looming curiosity as it nipped wildly at her mind, begging for her to look at what it was.
Blinking again, she pried one eye open and slowly uncurled out of her position, timidly edging to the end of the bed and peering onto the ground. The object that had supposedly fallen on her head was…
A book.
Yes. A book of all things.
Then again, that was good, wasn't it? At least it wasn't a monster or anything.
Letting a relieved sigh escape parted lips, the eleven-year old crawled off her bed and stooped to pick it up. Holding the cover before her eyes, she blinked yet again, reading the cover with intent, inquisitive orbs.
"Death Note… or Desu Nōto, written by Tsugumi Ohba and illustrated by Takeshi Obata. Obviously a Japanese manga book, from the looks of the cover and the names of the people who have contributed so largely to the creation of said object," she stated blandly, flipping through the book in an almost bored manner.
Seconds later, twelve more books plummeted through the air, each slapping upon her head one after the other before falling to the ground. Yelping repeatedly, the child cried out, "Okay, okay, I'll read them! Jeez!"
Holding onto the first volume of the series, she climbed back onto her bed, flipping open to the first page.
"Hm… that black wing guy looks weird… Wait a second, doesn't that guy look familiar too?"
Several weeks later…
"We're out of milk again."
"Again?"
"Again. And yes, you and Kari will be coming along too."
"Whaaa…? That's so unfair, Mom!"
"Deal with it, Akira."
"Gah."
"Call her down. Now."
Pouting, Akira stomped up the stairs, charging to his older sister's room. "KARI! We're heading for the market!"
"Okay…" came the distant voice.
Stomping his foot indignantly, Akira shouted, "You have to come, too! Mom said so!"
There was only silence as an awkward pause drew by before the door slid open, revealing his disgruntled sister, who followed him down the stairs.
"'Kay. We're ready."
"Apple?"
"…Fine."
Raito could practically see the Death God behind him grin. With a brief sigh, he purchased an apple from a nearby stand, tossing the fruit up and down in his grip while inwardly smirking at how Ryuk was drooling over the apple.
Making sure that the shinigami registered the fact that he wasn't going to be handing it over anytime soon—well, at least, not until they reached a more isolated area—and continued walking.
"Kira! Get back here!"
He stiffened. Did someone already figure out that he was Kira? Behind him, Ryuk blinked in his abnormal position.
"Nyah! Sorry, not giving this back to ya!"
"It's my manga book! GIVE IT TO ME!"
"Kari Adachi, you are not getting this!"
"Gosh, Akira! Why don't you just give it to me!?"
"'Cause I like making fun of ya!"
"Some seven-year old brother I have…"
Raito too blinked as a blur of dark hair and casual attire breezed past him, carrying a book in his grip. Abruptly he realized that someone else had crashed into him, falling backwards onto their behind.
"Ah! Sorry, mister!"
Briefly, two pairs of eyes met and one pair widened significantly. Raito stared at the fallen eleven-year old before him, listening to one word pour past parted lips.
"…Kira…?"
Now the teenager could only gape as the comfort of the fact she had been calling someone else "Kira" as a nickname faded away and left a painful hole in his mind.
'She knows…'
And behind him, Ryuk sniggered and Akira blinked, screeching to a stop in his tracks as he realized his sister wasn't following him.
Author's Note
I know that plot is weird and stuff, but hehe… trust me to come up with the most abnormal things. Review, please, because the possibility of me stopping the writing of this story will increase if I see there aren't many reviews.
Thank you for reading this!