Before we begin, some slightly important and somewhat relevant blather from the author.
Setting: Pre-Kira case, mostly Wammy's House. This series takes place slightly AU, still in the Death Note world, but I've changed the timeline just a bit (it will become apparent later on). In the beginning, the events will be entirely of my own mind, it may become more cannon-like later in the series.
Rixchan no can has own Death Note. Only her phail OC. TT-TT
Enough of my blather, let's get started.
LxWxL
CHaPTeR I. ReMiNiSCeNCe
~Alyas POV~
Well, it's official, they decided it.
I'm going to be Watari's successor. The one who does everything but the thinking for L.
The thought of doing what I've been doing for the past month and a half for the rest of my life sounds fun, but it's already giving me a headache. Or maybe that's just a side effect of whatever L made me swallow.
Stupid L is paranoid. Even though he already decided that I should act as Watari if something should happen to Wammy or there's just too much for one person to do, he decided that I should have no clue where I was for the entire second half of the case, as a safety precaution.
He insisted on drugging me to have Wammy drag me out from under his rock.
I feel like tossing. It's not like I was going to tell anyone, and he knew that, but he's just as stubborn as I am.
He said something about it being necessary, he doesn't want me to come back with a bunch of bratty kids, it would make him feel a lot more comfortable, it's pointless for me to know because he'll be leaving soon anyway, doesn't want really want me meddling in affairs until I'm older because of occupational hazards, blah blah blah, derp derp derp.
Whatever. If it appeases His Great Deductiveness like my cooking does, whatever. I can find him if I need to.
The next thing that registers is the sound of rain. The heavy drops strike the windshield and skylight of the car and distort the grey, swiftly-passing picture outside the windows. It's all blurry, my vision is not taking a liking to sleeping pills, apparently.
Anyway, yes, I obviously met L.
Short version: It was quite the experience.
Just get kidnapped in the dead of night by a guy in a trench coat who actually lets you pack your crapload of electronics before dragging you off to meet a socially retarded insomniac genius.
I know I'm smarter than most people, I speak 7 languages at age 13, and being in the same room as him gave me an inferiority complex at first.
But I made him my friend.
I'm not exactly a shy person. I just don't like being around people I'm not interested in. I can if I have to, but it's not a lot of fun.
If someone happens to catch my interest, if I want to be their friend… well that's another matter entirely.
Figuring people out is to Alyas as solving impossible mysteries is to L. An addiction.
I'm very close friends with only a few people, and that's the way I like it.
At first, L and I were far apart. He didn't talk to me other than to tell me to do stuff. But he interested me, and yes, I decided that I would like to be his friend. I had to catch his eye, make him want to get to know me, or he wouldn't.
L wasn't hard to connect with, I stumbled the door to him by accident. The day after I arrived, I made a cake because I had a spare moment and I was in the mood.
L's tastebuds are the direct path to his heart.
Rather simple, considering he's the unfathomable, emotionless superdetective.
When in doubt, be sure you aren't overlooking the obvious.
I spent a month and a half working with L, because the job of Watari was getting too big for Wammy alone with the particular case they were working on. He always ditched me with L to go stand in a police station.
My experience consisted mostly of getting in touch and negotiating with important people using a voice changer, researching things that are next to impossible to find, hacking, and pandering to L's whims (baking things with high sugar content and presenting them to him on silver platters so he can stab them dead with forks).
Oh, and I shot the doorman at the first hotel we were at dead for trying to kill L. He told me to get rid of the body and asked for another piece of cake. We had to move.
Being Watari is kinda harder than it sounds.
He sleeps about 6 hours once every 3 days and is a bottomless pit for anything sweet. Taking care of the best detective in the world can be compared to taking care of an infant. They keep you up all night with requests for food.
And he's weird. But that was more the thing that made it fun.
It's hard to see him as a guy in his 20's. He's seems to have next to no exposure to the world or other people. He's like a socially retarded bachelor gone insomniac.
He reminds me of myself, a little. Barefoot, perpetual bedhead and dark shadows under his wide eyes.
We're friends, though L has strange ways of expressing that. Under his blank, calculating demeanor, L is a child. I think he had a unique past that caused him to be that way.
He says what he thinks without regarding anyone else's opinion, just like a little kid will tell a fat lady she's fat. He sulks when he doesn't get what he wants, he doesn't like losing, he can even be petty. When I squashed a piece of cake in his hair, he shoved his ice cream all over my ear. We both had to shower, so then we fought over who got to first and he just made up some research project and pretended it was urgent to get rid of me.
I threatened to stop baking.
He threatened to dump me back where I came from.
I pointed out that if he did that, he would be researching and contacting people himself. His antisocialness is so bad he doesn't even contact people through a screen unless someone else introduces him and sets up the meeting.
And I pointed out I sure wasn't finding the address of wherever we were at that point to mail him confectionery.
I got to shower first.
L went and pouted in front of a computer screen and ate all the cookies instead of half the cookies, the jerk.
He's also pretty lazy, he was always making me find him stuff (I'm pretty sure he can research for himself) and go out to buy him candy and bring him stuff and bake him cakes and pies and other unhealthy things.
He does drastic things to get what he wants: the answers. He has no regard for his personal health, he just wants to eat sweets and stay up late. Yes, L is a child with a blank façade.
I think he drops that façade a little if he likes you.
I think I got to know both of L's personalities. In the beginning, he was more like a machine, but by the end, we would argue over who's the last piece of cake was without shame. (no, we can't share it, I want the whole thing. And it should be mine, because I made the fricking cake in the first place. What kind of argument is 'because I employ you and I'm the one leading this investigation'? He could be ruling the world, I still would be the one who made the cake and therefore the one with more entitlement to eat the cake! Without me, L, there is no cake! Do not provoke the wrath of your baker!)
Needless to say, by the time the case was solved, my sleeping and eating habits were thoroughly screwed. It's all his fault. And sugar's, for being so addictive.
A smile dances behind my lips as I break out of my reverie, almost showing on my face. I miss him a little already.
I enjoyed his company because I'm an immature genius(?) too. Two of a kind. Yes, I can act my age. Do I enjoy it? No. I like people that I can be a kid around. I still sleep with a giant teddy bear.
Mim is seatbelted in next to me. She was a pretty, pink bear when I got her as a three-year old. Soft, furry fabric, beady, black button-eyes, round, limp body. When I got her, she was taller than I was.
She died. She's a zombie now, because my sewing talent is somewhat questionable. The fur is still soft, but now it's knobby with repeated runs through the drier. It's faded to gray. Both of Mim's arms and one of her legs have been sewed back on with blatant, black or red stitches.
The left paw was messily patched with some purple velvet, and there's a black patch where the teddy's little tail fell off. The seams are puckered with mismatching threads, there are patches all over from 5 or 6 tears. I replaced an ear completely, with debatable success.
Both of Mim's eyes have fallen off, but when I was 8 I lost one, and by then I liked my zombie bear as a zombie, so I sewed on a red, flat one as a replacement. Her button nose fell off a long time ago, and her mouth is a little black x of thread, because once again I suck at sewing.
And I enjoy a bit of creepiness here and there, if you haven't gathered.
I have an irrational attachment to Mim. And that's why it makes me smile noticeably when I see that the split seam on the back of Mim's head has been repaired with black, messy, haphazard stitches that aren't my own.
I broke her again when using her to whap L over the head with her for eating all the muffins when I went to the bathroom. Those were my muffins, stupid L! He could've eaten half of them, and that would've been fine, but no. He ate them all. And then he went and sulked in front of a computer (again) when hit him with my teddy. And said I was immature.
Ha. That's very funny indeed, hypocrite.
I roll my eyes, smirking.
Someone (L) also put my glasses on her. Frameless, full moon lenses. I put them on. It's all in my head, but it feels like I can't see right without them, even though my head is clearing up.
I actually don't need them. My vision is perfect, and they don't actually have any magnification.
They're not mine, and that's why I wear them.
Plus they make me feel like a Harry Potter.
It was nice of L to fix Mim up and not throw my glasses in a bag to be broken. I'm pretty sure it was L. Wammy would have done a better job sewing.
To my credit, I left him the result of a new recipe in the fridge. Chocolate strawberry shortcake. I only ate a piece, and not half of it, which was really, really hard, because it was awesome.
Wammy is in the front seat, driving. As I said before, Watari does everything but the thinking for L.
I'm Wammy's fangirl. So yes, I played him too. Wammy is friendly, I didn't have to work on him like I had to for L.
The expression on his face was rather priceless when he finally revealed his face to me and I jumped on him babbling about how I admired him as an inventor and it was so gracious of him to open an orphanage for gifted orphans and how he was such a revolutionary thinker.
Now, I don't always tackle-hug people, but when I do, they're elderly (rather unsteady on their feet) and I'm not really supposed to recognize them. So much for Watari's secret identity.
"Hey, can I drive?" I call to him.
"I don't think that would be wise, Ms. Alyas. The drugs cause side effects of drowsiness, dizziness and confusion upon one waking up." He says, watching me in the rear-view mirror.
I'm about to object, but he notices and speaks again.
"We're in England now. I'm sorry, but it's not plausible for a 13-year-old to be driving a vehicle with a license, Ms. Alyas."
I sigh and stick my tongue out. Fine. No driving for me. I mean, if he said yes, (which he wouldn't) I suppose I'd have to back out, because a 13 year old driving is somewhat ostentatious. Can't wait to look like I'm old enough to have a license.
Wammy chuckles. "You make me a little concerned about the trouble you'll get L into when I'm gone." He says, mustache wiggling with the words.
"Don't say that, Mr. Wammy. You have to stay around, or I'll eat ice-cream and sob until I go into a sugar coma and die, and then L will run out of cake because he's lazy and the world will basically implode!"
He chuckles again. "Then, for the sake of the world, when my time comes don't eat so much ice cream it causes you to die."
"That could work. Also, not dying anytime soon would be really great." I say with a smile. Then my tone flicks to serious. "Don't worry though, if something does happen I won't do anything too stupid. I'll do my best for L when you're gone, Mr. Wammy. I can promise you that."
"That's a good thing to hear. I fear I'm getting a little old for this job. It's a great peace to know that there's some young blood willing to take it on."
My eye twitches. "I think I'm kind of concerned now…"
"Don't fret, Ms. Alyas. This old man still has some steam in him."
I let out a sigh of relief. "So, L didn't tell me where he was shipping me off to. Will you?"
"I am the founder of an orphanage for gifted individuals, as you know." Wammy says. "Among these individuals are the ones who are preparing to be successors to the name L." He explains.
I'd researched Quillish Wammy thoroughly, because of his work as an inventor, and it was during this that I found all of this out. (I can be a bit of a stalker.) And when I came across this file labeled 'unimportant' that was not only deleted but corrupted… seems legit and challenge accepted. It took about a week of non-stop work, but I eventually got the data.
"I know. Near, Mello and Matt." I say. They're the only three people who were deleted from the Wammy's House database without any explanation. I did them a favor and wiped out that data for good.
"So I'm going to your institution?" I am an orphan. I take it that he had the foresight not to put my name or face in the place's database. My crazy aunt will hunt me down and demand custody so she can try to take all of my parent's money. But I kind of transferred it to another account that I have access to, so she won't be getting it anytime soon even if she does get her hands on me.
Anyway, that won't happen, because when you're not only kidnapped by L but also trying to disappear, it makes you rather hard to find.
"L decided that it would be best for you to live there and become familiar with them, because it's likely you'll be working with them when you're older. Unless you have strong objections, L would like you to stay there until your assistance as Watari is needed again." Yep. I doubt this place has records if it's a school of super-geniuses for L successors, considering the amount of mystery L insists on burying himself in.
"Okay then, I'll probably see both of you around sometime so you can dump some work on me, right?"
"Most probably, Ms. Alyas."
"Kay cool. Are we there yet?"
"No, Ms. Alyas." He answers, and foreseeing my next question (how much longer?) says: "It will only be a few more minutes though."
I nod.
I like Wammy. He's like a grandfather, but an epic grandfather. I mean, he walks into a police station in a trench coat and one of those dapper hats like one of those cool people in a movie and still gets home in time to pour L tea and make me go to bed (not that I actually go to sleep).
People these days say all the old people can't figure out how to turn a computer on, Wammy gives me a run for my money in hacking into government stuff. He's not technologically impaired, but he still acts like a total sir. He calls me 'Ms.' and I'm 13. And he wears a suit even when he doesn't have to. That gets bonus points, because L's and my slobbish ways of dressing seem to have no effect on him.
L lives in a long-sleeved white T-shirt and baggy jeans. I've never seen him in anything else.
I live in my pajamas. Too long sweats and flannel shirts or cotton T's. Preferably black, white or grayscale, therefore everything matches.
Being a lazy slob without accidentally wearing things make you look like an idiot to a point that they even distract you requires bosslike foresight while shopping. After everything you bought matches everything else you bought, you can stop caring.
Wammy turns off the road onto a gravel one.
This must be the place. It looks more like a mansion than an institution. From what I can see, the building is made of white stone, with square, marble pillars. The gate is open. I shoulder my backpack, grab two of my big tote bags, and unbuckle Mim and myself.
"We're here." Wammy announces. He drops me off at the front door. "I'll be right around, as soon as I park the car. Go right in to the administrator's office."
I nod and step out into the pouring rain, walking swiftly to the door. It's locked. I sigh, swing my bag onto my elbow, transfer my bags to that arm, pull out a wire and pick the lock. It only takes seconds, but that's enough time to drench me.
I actually don't mind being in the rain, but I don't like having wet clothes and hair sticking to me once I'm inside.
Of course, then I have to reset the alarm system, because technically I just broke in. All it takes is unscrewing the plate real quick and pulling out/reinserting a few wires. Who knew I'd have to break into what's supposed to be my new home? Suspicious. I certainly hope L isn't planning to kill me or something.
Great. His paranoia rubbed off on me. The door is locked. They must be plotting my demise. Yes, that's a logical conclusion. I'm Watari's- not L's- successor because I'm resourceful, not straight brilliant.
The tiles on the floor are white with a few smoky streaks of gray, and shiny. Square marble pillars are adorned with gold accents, and the walls are off-white, accents beige and gold. It's like a modern-day palace. I manage a silent tread in spite of my ratty, rubber-soled black converse that happen to be soaked though and prone to squeakiness, scanning the hall. Memorizing the dimensions.
I stop before the white door with the plaque reading 'Administrator's Office'. I knock on the door. Thrice.
"Yes? Whatever it is, come in." The voice of an older man. It isn't particularly friendly.
I open the door and step in. The office is large. Wooden floor, beige walls, gold and red accents. There's a red rug on the floor before the administrator's desk, and a bookcase behind it. The windows on either side of the bookcase have their shades drawn.
And sitting at the desk with his fingers laced together, is an elderly man regarding me like a wet rat.
"Hi." I say, raising a hand in greeting.
"Hmm. You're the new arrival, I suppose." Roger Ruvie says. If I hadn't known his name from researching Wammy and his projects, it would have been apparent from the lovely name plaque reading ROGER RUVIE ADMINISTRATOR on his desk.
"You must be Roger Ruvie Administrator." I reply. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
He narrows his eyes at me behind his small, moon-shaped spectacles. His face is wrinkled, his brown eyes are aged, and his hairline is receding. His gray-white hair is pretty neat. "My name is Roger Ruvie. I am the administrator, Ms..."
I pull my silver sharpie from my bag. "Alyas. Would you mind if I corrected your plaque with a comma, seeing how your last name is clearly not Administrator?"
"Yes."
Killjoy.
Roger takes a map. "I suppose we should just get this over with, Ms. Alyas. You will be staying with the three-
"Near, Mello and Matt, I presume?" I interrupt.
He looks annoyed. Annoying people is fun, but I try not to close opportunities by making people dislike me.
Sometimes, shallow relationships can be useful. And having an enemy is just as bad, and usually worse, than having a shallow relationship.
Time to turn on the teacher's-pet-adult's-dream-guest persona and erase the damage done by the comma proposal and interruption. "I'm so sorry for interrupting. I'm just a little overexcited." I say, with a slight blush and a smile, like I've dropped a façade of an infuriating, calm little brat.
It's not actually a façade, in case you haven't noticed.
"As I was saying, you will be residing in suite number 21." He says, still rather miffed. He hands me a map.
"Okay~!" I say, glancing at it and reaching back to shove it in my bag. He appears to be annoyed further. I'll go with keeping my mouth shut now, I think.
"L asked that an exception be made for you, so none of your data is in the Wammy's house database." He says.
Oh, this guy knows about L. And he knows I'm not a normal new arrival.
"You are expected to abide by all the Wammy's House rules." He says, handing me another pamphlet. "It's not required that you attend classes here at Wammy's, but you are still expected to take the ranking test at the end of every week. When the data is put in the computer, you will simply be omitted from the results. If you have questions, ask someone else."
At that moment, Wammy enters, umbrella and wet trench coat in hand, dragging my suitcase and my last bag. I'm still wearing my trench coat over my pajamas. It's long and black and falls to my ankles. I knew I was destined to be a Watari from the moment I discovered he wore a trench coat.
"Ah, Mr. Wammy. It's good to see you again." Roger says, standing. Well, he certainly likes Wammy more than me, I can hear it in his tone.
"Roger, my good friend. How have you been?"
"Well, Mr. Wammy."
"And I see you and Ms. Alyas have already met?"
"Yes, we have." He says, regarding me with some distaste. "We were just about finished."
"Good. I must be getting back. Ms. Alyas, I trust there's nothing you need?" He asks, setting down my luggage.
"No, I'm fine. Thanks." I respond.
"Then you best be getting to your room." He says with a smile. "Hopefully, we'll meet again soon."
"Welcome to Wammy's house." Roger says dully.
"Okay, thank you Mr. Ruvie." I say with a smile. "Goodbye, Mr. Wammy. Tell L I said not to eat the entire cake at once if it's not gone by the time you contact him again."
"I fear it will be." Wammy says, chuckling again. "Goodbye, child. Thank you for your hard work. Stay out of mischief."
"I'll see what I can do, Mr. Wammy, I'll see what I can do." I say, taking my suitcase and stepping out. I drag the door shut behind me.
So… suite 21, huh? I memorized the map, it seems to be an exclusive place. It's in a tower, not the first, second, or third floor. The only suite in a tower. I ascend the staircase, dragging all my crap.
=-= … you think that this billionare-sponsored home for the intellectually brilliant would have an elevator.
End of the hall, third floor. There's a staircase, another one. This one is straight, instead of the spiraling ones that connected the main floors.
I rap on the door. Time to meet my roommates. I'm going to try to be friends with them , I guess. After all, we will be spending a lot of time together.
I saw their pictures. Several years younger, but still. There was something about all 3 of them, almost an L-like look to their expressions, especially Near's and Mellos. I have this feeling that they're going to be very, very interesting people.
"What do you want?" A voice calls.
Well, that sounds promising. I try the doorknob. Locked. "I'm your new roommate! Are ya gonna let me in or do I have to pick the lock?" I call back.
There's a sardonic laugh, and then some muttering (dude, they're gonna break the door!), but I'm already turning the handle.
There's a redheaded guy on the other side of the door. He has orange-tinted goggles on his head, and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. His hand is frozen where he was reaching for the doorknob. Shocked. Ha. Alyas 1, Mail Jeevas 0. "Ah, you must be Matt." I say, cocking my head. "Pleasurous to meet you."
LxWxL
Another author's note:
I have come to the conclusion that this fanfic is kinda crappy. But I like the idea, so I don't really care. I'll keep writing, and post another chapter soon (I post chapters on a several thousand word delay so i can change things if i need to), so it's already written, I'll put it up as soon as I can find the motivation to edit it. ^w^
This is only my second fanfiction, so please excuse any phails on my part. (Grammar, confusingness, boringness, factual incorrectness, so on and so forth. I'm sorry if anyone is OOC, I tried.)
To all who review/respond in any way, shape or form, thanks. Nothing drains my motivation more than having my stories read but ignored.
Fankschu!
~YouR RiXCHaN~