Author's Note: I'll let you all know if I get an accurate posting pattern, but until then, just check in every once in a while and keep your eyes open! I hope you all like the rewrite so far! Now we're back to where the story truly begins! ***I don't own Death Note, only my OCs***
Chapter 2- The Monkey In The Oak Tree
Out of the timelessness of sleep, dim red lights appear in the darkness. Still somewhere between the realm of dreams and reality, I watch the redness form a pattern of movement: back and forth, back and forth… As my mind slowly awakens, so does my usually lightning fast (and generally intelligent) thoughts, Hm… I wonder what they are? Despite the mystery, I feel no need to solve it. In fact, I feel nothing at all except the quiet, sleepy sensation of peace.
After a few moments, my awakening is sped along as a cool breeze wiggles its way through my long sleeves, causing a shiver to roll up my spine. I feel my bangs tickle my cheeks, my hair tugged by a gentle wind. For a while, my slow mind doesn't question it. Once the wheels in my head begin to turn at an adequate speed, a thought occurs to me: Wait… breeze? My eyes fly open.
My body, still not as quick to awaken as my mind, helps to keep me in place. I don't move, instead allowing myself to take in what I'm seeing. Staring directly ahead (well, up), I see beams of sunlight streaming through beautiful, wide oak leafs. It's at this moment when the obvious finally hits me: I'm outside. The less obvious, yet far more alarming thought comes to me next: We don't have an oak tree.
I focus on the breeze dancing across my skin, trying to determine if this is all a dream or reality. In these moments when I cannot make out whether a situation is real or not (which is far more frequent than you may think), I call out to my mother to help me confirm or deny. "Mom?!" I call out warily, yet with enough volume to wake her. Instead of hearing her open her door and walk to my room, I hear a far younger voice say "What was that?"
For another minute or two, I lock my eyes onto a single oak leaf, Otherwise I'll become overloaded from the information of a foreign location and I'll start to panic. I take said time to feel each limb of my body, to feel every sensation, to hear everything that I can. I hear the soft treading of feet, getting farther and farther from me. I quickly determine that I am not in my room. I am, in fact, outside and have no idea where my family is. After collecting this information, I find it imperative that I move to another location since someone has put me here and therefore obviously knows where I am.
I sit up far too quickly. Crap, there goes all of Mom's warnings to sit up slowly! Black spots dance across my vision. I sway and feel myself falling, seemingly in slow motion, to my right. Meanwhile, I reprimand myself furiously: How come I can think of all of these important survival and mental exercises yet I can't keep it in my head to sit up slowly?! Thinking that I had been on the ground already, I tense up as I continue to fall past the 90 degree mark where the floor should have been.
My body recalls the gymnastics classes of my early years, knees locking around whatever I'm laying on. I swing upside down, swaying black and forth as I dangle from a branch only by my legs. My arms and hair hang above my head, clearly hoping for a reunion with the grassy floor. All I want is a pain-free reunion with the ground, I think grimly as I notice that my head is still a little less than 6 feet above the cruel, hard earth. I groan as the black spots swell in size, twirling across my eyes. "Ugh…" I start to pull my arms up so that I can grab the branch I'm hanging from when-
"HEY!"
I drop my torso and arms back down, almost falling out of the tree in surprise. Peering through the black dots, I can discern a person approaching me, wearing what looks like a black vest and pants. As this person gets closer, I recognize the shiny material of the clothing as (probably) leather. I can determine that the person has shoulder-length blonde hair. Since the voice I heard was decidedly masculine, I'm pretty certain it's a guy, But with all that leather, who knows? I giggle to myself, all of the blood rushing to my head.
My hair drifts in the steady breeze, before readjusting back into it's loose curls. I'm pretty sure it's tickling his nose since he sneezes. I'm suddenly EXTREMELY grateful that my foot-length black skirt was caught under my knees when I swung down, as well that a section of my shirt's hem is caught in the skirt's waistband. Thank God… This is one girl who is NOT pretty, clothed or otherwise!
'He' sneezes again, bringing me out of my cluttered thoughts. He crosses his arms. "Who are you?" His hands appear to be black, but I realize that he must be wearing gloves.
I open my mouth, trying to answer him. Before any coherent words can reach my lips, the black spots swell to consume all of the sunlight. I feel my knees unlock and I can only pray that I don't hit the guy in front of me…
~ 3rd POV ~
The boy looks up at the strange girl, waiting for an answer. His black gloves meet at the crooks of his arms, his nonexistent patience causing a single black finger to tap in impatience. Occasionally adjusting his position in order to avoid the girl's hands, though covered in the long black sleeves, dangling in front of him, his blue eyes flicker suspiciously to her hair (which had made him sneeze twice).
About to ask her again, his mouth opens slightly in surprise when her sleepy, half-lidded eyes roll to the back of her head. Before he can even ask if she's alright, her form goes limp and she begins to fall (luckily her descent is quicker than her skirt or shirt's). Well trained, he acts quickly. Already very close, he simply bends his knees and reaches his arms forward to catch her. He braces himself, expecting to be met with approximately 130-135 lbs of weight. He's pleasantly surprised, and slightly concerned, to find that she's incredibly light. He crouches on the ground to examine the stranger in his arms.
I can't tell exactly how tall she is while holding her like this. His concern is heightened when his arm can feel her ribs very prominently through her shirt. The business-like analysis continues: She's wearing a black shirt with sleeves that reach past her wrists, only allowing the fingertips to show. A red swirling design is sewn into the cuffs that billow around her hands, yet succumb to the cling of gravity. Although her shirt is small, it still makes piles of folds around her small frame. Her skirt brushes the toes of her bare feet, the black material fluttering gently in the breeze.
His mouth sets in a firm line, I thought that she'd passed out because she's wearing all of this black in the beginning of August, but the material's thin- Realizing that he has no hands left, his cheeks turn a light shade of pink before he gathers his wits together. Quickly determining that no one is within his immediate vicinity to witness this act, he leans forward and gently rests his forehead against hers, and she isn't even warm. He leans back, blonde hair falling with gravity, yet seeming to be reaching towards her.
Her face is peaceful, giving him no hint as to why she had fallen unconscious. Her slight curls blow away from them both, her bangs dancing across her face. High cheekbones, olive skin, and full lips. One of her hands brushes the grass; he sees black on her fingers and, upon closer inspection, determines that her hand is spotted with ink stains. She's probably around 20 years old; but if so, she's pretty small for her age… But all in all, she isn't bad looking-
The boy is drawn from his thoughts by the sound of approaching footsteps. He stands, easily lifting her with him, as he turns to see another boy about 5'6" shuffling around the fountain in the middle of the wide green lawn. The newcomer pauses the hand-held game he had been tapping away at as he stops in front of the odd pair. He raises a black-gloved hand to adjust the white rimmed, orange lens goggles to rest atop his brown hair in order to allow his bright green eyes to investigate the scene with a calm, almost uninterested gaze. "Hey Mello! Whatcha got there?" He throws a thumb back in the direction he'd come from, "I heard the kids come running in, shrieking about a monkey hanging from the tree out back." Eyes lowering to see the unconscious girl, he steps forward to stand in front of 'Mello'. He gestures towards her, "This it? 'Cuz it looks pretty cute to be a monkey."
Mello flinches as the boy voiced his own most embarrassing observation. There's a pause before the boy grins cheekily up at Mello, "So… did you kill her?"
Mello's face twitches before he snaps, "No! She fell out of the tree!" He shifts the girl in his arms, jostling her arm to fall off to her side, dangling in the air. The other boy's smirk disappears as he steps forward, reaches out a red and black-striped clad arm, and gently places her hand back on her stomach. After his task's success, the boy smiles contentedly. Mello speaks a bit softer, "Matt, has anyone gotten Watari yet?"
'Matt' sighs and turns back towards where he had come from. He examines the cuff of his cream, sleeveless vest as he answers in an amused voice, "I'm sure the herd has gotten to him as soon as they decided who would fit through the doors first." Matt turns towards his friend, looking back down at the stranger. After a moment, he continues hesitantly, "You know… it's a strange coincidence that she's shown up now of all times. This is the first time he's ever visited us, arriving yesterday, and then she just- appears?"
Mello glares down at the girl, suspicious, despite of himself, "Yeah, I know."
"Mello, Matt!" Both boys turn towards an elderly man in a black suit and pants (despite the time of year) hurrying towards them. A crowd of children of varying ages follow him, curious in regards to the day's strange events. He calls out again, "What happened here? Who is this?"
Mello looks up from the girl, "We have no idea who she is, do you know her, Watari?"
"Oh dear…" Finally reaching them, Watari stops in front of the three. A young boy, head reaching just above Watari's knee, peeks tentatively around him. Although his hands grip Watari's pants tightly, his black eyes are calm as they take in the strange ensemble.
Catching his breath, Watari adjusts his glasses, blue eyes peering down at the girl's face. The rest of the children stand hesitantly behind him, attempting to get a good look at the girl. After a minute of examination, he begins to speak in a low hum, "Hm…" Everyone leans towards him expectantly. He runs a thoughtful hand through his white hair before suddenly straightening up, "I'm afraid I have no idea!" All of the children (except for Mello, who remembered he has an unconscious girl in his arms) fall over in response to Watari's ridiculous build-up.
"Well, that was helpful…" Matt mutters as he picks himself up.
Undeterred, Watari turns back to Mello, "Did she hit her head?"
Mello shakes his head, blond hair flying into a short-lived golden halo, "No, I managed to catch her." Looking back down at her face, he continues, "She must have been up in the tree and lost her balance. She was awake when she was hanging from the branch, but she passed out."
The girl suddenly groans, shifting her head. The seemingly always calm Mello (at least up to this point) panics for a moment, holding the girl away from him, "Crap! She's waking up!" After a few tense seconds, she stops moving, her breathing settling back into a calm rhythm.
With all of the information they can obtain thus far, Watari nods and takes out a handkerchief to wipe the side of his face, "Well, in any case, we should move her into the house; it's ungodly warm out here! We can get answers when she wakes up." Without another word, he turns towards a gigantic house and begins to walk back.
A bit shocked at the sudden decision, it takes a moment for both Matt and Mello to process Watari's words. Looking at each other, Matt shrugs before lowering his goggles back over his eyes. Unpausing his game, and without looking up, he manages to maneuver around all of the children towards the mansion. Mello gives a last glance at the girl in his arms before following them both. The children part like the red sea, still ogling at the new arrival, as he walks towards the huge mansion that is Wammy's House.
Unbeknownst to any of them, two others watch the induction of the intruder.
One peers through several impressive towers of dice he had been building around the window. He looks down at the small figures, slightly frustrated at the lack of observable details. He releases a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. A finger comes up and begins to curl a lock of snow white hair around it finger repeatedly, attempting to curb his aggregation, There's nothing I can right now, I'll just have to be patient.
The other stands in a hallway as dark as himself, taking in all of the events through the high window. He analyzes everything possible from his perch, but it's admittedly difficult. He had heard the commotion of the children downstairs and decided to take a break from his current case to see the 'monkey'. A tad frustrated, but even more intrigued, he bites his thumb gently, only turning away from the window when everyone had disappeared from his line of vision. Placing his other hand in his jeans pocket, he shuffles back down the dark hallway, I'll have to make preparations to acquire further information… immediately.
