Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, if I did, L wouldn't have died. I also do not own any tv shows, video games, books, or movies to which I will most likely make a reference to in this fic.
Vision 2: What am I (also: I Meet L – Part 2)
You know, between the unexpected appearance, the fact that I was floating in midair, and the potential possibility that I could end up killing his ass . . . I wonder if what really freaked him out the most was the fact that I had wings sprouting out of my back.
Oh wait, yeah, I forgot to tell you: I have wings. Black wings. Not very original, maybe, but . . . I like them. I usually use my wings for (obviously) flying . . . and partially for style, and partially out of a sense of vanity. 'Cause, really, I don't actually need the wings, I just like how they look, how they feel . . . and before you start getting any ideas, no, I am not an angel , nor am I a fallen one. I'm not a demon either (though there are plenty of other people who would disagree). Also, I don't have my wings out all the time, (those kind of things tend to arouse suspicion!) just whenever I'm flying, or just came back from flying, or, sometimes, when I'm fighting, or sometimes when I feel, perhaps, that a sense of flair is needed.
. . . So, L, of course, decided to break the silence and ask me who I was.
"Senyaita Boulibashi" I answered. I floated off my "seat" and landed softly on the ground. "But please, call me Sen". I had my hands in my pockets, and I was fighting with myself to keep them there, 'cause I really wanted to reach out my hand, more or less inviting him in for a handshake (which I wanted to happen . . . really, really BADLY) . . . but, well, common sense told me that he wouldn't . . . didn't trust me. Not now.
. . . Smart man.
He stared at me for awhile, I guess wondering if I was serious. On the one hand, there were a lot of people in the world who had some pretty strange names. Like that one teacher from Texas whose last name was "Hickey" . . . and let's not forget the fact that some guys have girls' names, and some girls have guys' names . . . on the other hand, my name had to have been too ridiculous to have been actually real, but then . . .
Well, whatever he was thinking, eventually he decided to say: "That's not your real name."
"Yes it is." I said, still smiling.
No it wasn't. Well, it was and it wasn't. I knew myself as Sen. Senyaita Boulibashi is who I am . . . but it wasn't the birth name that my Mommy and Daddy gave me. "Sen " was just as much an alias as "Hideki Ryuuga" . . . even if I didn't like it.
'Course, I couldn't let him know that . . . not yet. Sorry L, you're going to have to wait a little longer . . .
He didn't respond to that. Instead he said nonchalantly, "I don't suppose you'll tell me how you got here."
"You've seen the wings, right?" I said, slightly raising an eyebrow, "I'm pretty sure you've guessed, and you know what? You're right: it's magic."
He probably thought I was making fun of him by now, but . . . it was the truth.
"You could have made them yourself."
"I did . . . but they're real." I reached behind me with my right hand, plucked out one of the feathers, and handed it to him. "Here, you can analyze it with whatever high class technological shit you've got, but . . . other than a few oddities, it's just like an actual birds' feather . . . I'll try to make sure that they don't make your machines explode, or . . . anything worse."
See, that was the thing with my "feathers". Since they were a part of me, they had some of my energies, and unless I was paying close attention to them, or else put a lock on their precise "function" . . . Well, I think you can imagine what would happen. Not exactly World War III , but . . . something would get hurt.
He glanced down at the feather, and then looked back up at me, his index finger resting on his lips. Probably still wondering if I was lying, or about to screw him over. I, meanwhile, kept my hand raised. I wasn't about to put it down until he actually took the damn thing. Please L, I want you to trust me, please, I'm not going to hurt you, I'm serious, I mean it, please! . . .
.*.*.*.
Things get blurry for a bit . . . I don' t know if he actually took the feather, or if I gave in and let it disappear fro m my hand in a flash of white light . . . What I do know is . . .
Vision 3: Why am I here? (also: I Meet L – Part 3)
"I want to protect you."
That sentence comes out breathless, sad, and solemn. I'm fully prepared to fail . . . it's happened before. I'm not infallible, I'm not . . .
I'm not exactly sure what L's reaction is to this one, but then . . . well, I guess it goes like this: Just because you're psychic, that doesn't mean that your visions tell you everything. Especially if you don't want them to.
But then, of course, it could just be the egotistic part of myself affecting these visions. Me, actually expecting one of the world's best detectives, this enigma who seems to resemble more of an animal than a man, to (1) believe a word I say (though I can back up some of it pretty well), or (2) Even accept my help. I didn't know him that well, so it's possible that he's one of those people who insists on doing everything on their own, even if they have to manipulate other people to do it. But, then again, maybe not. Either way, I wasn't about to take no for an answer . . . I wasn't going to let him die.
I guess there must have been some small moment of silence . . . I turned to my left, clasped my hands behind my back and started walking back and forth across the carpet.
"Pretty soon . . . ah, crap, what year is it?" I asked, looking at him.
He said nothing, just kept staring with those bottomless eyes of his.
"I'm serious L, I have no idea what time it is." That tends to happen (to me, anyway) when you spend all your time jumping from place to place, from time zone to time zone, from planet to planet . . . you get the picture.
". . . L!"
". . ."
"Come on, please?"
". . . 2001."
"2001, huh? Hmmm . . ." I lifted my fingers to mouth, thinking . . . let's see, what year, what year . . . ah!
"Okay, two years from now . . . a killer will be born. That person's actions will take the world by storm. People will end up being divided . . . in their morals, and in their status . . . in other words, who gets to live or die. In my opinion, this . . . killer, is just somebody with a humongous ego and somewhat of a god complex. Even so, the killer won't be found that easily. The killer's smart . . . and the world's biggest liar. That killer will be able to fool friends (if somebody like that can even have any friends), family . . ."
". . . the killer . . . will hide in plain sight. Of course, you'll end up being interested in this case, and so will get yourself involved. There will be a struggle between the two of you, an epic battle to see who can truly defeat the other . . ."
I stopped, unsure how to say the rest . . . unwilling . . .
I looked up into L's eyes. He was waiting for me to continue. I sighed, took a deep breath, gathered my bearings and spat:
"You end up dying."
There was a moments' silence in which I tried to collect myself . . . I hated this part of the story.
"You get close to finding out who the killer is . . . but you die before you are able to. A few years later, your successors take up your work . . . and finish what you started. The killer loses . . . The end."
I looked away from him, my fists clenched . . . the injustice of it all . . . I hate it . . . screw symbolism, he shouldn't have . . .
I exhaled silently, trying to relax myself. I looked back at him.
"Before I go on, I want to show you what it is I can do . . . and what I can't do."
"I have . . . basically any superpower that you can think of. The ones I use most often include: super-strength, flying. . ."
I raised both of my fists, and caused white flames to emanate from them.
"My flames . . . which by the way, are just like any other flame, except for a few things like their color, the fact that I can control the intensity of the heat, and the fact that they will only burn what I want them to. I also . . ."
I relaxed my fists, let out the flames, and let my left hand down. Then, I flicked my wrist, like I was spinning something in my hand. A flash of white light appeared in my hand, and on the second rotation the white light changed into a sai (you know the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? You know the weapon Raphael uses? Yeah, that). The blade was a brilliant silver, shining, metallic. There was a great shining red ribbon wrapped around the handle, the end tied up in a knot on the lower part of the handle, at the base, with just a little length of ribbon dan gling off the end . . . just for style.
". . . can make any weapon I want appear out of thin air . . . and use it. I can make myself disappear, as well as hide my aura. You won't be able to see me, sense me, feel me . . . in other words, I create the illusion that I'm not there at all, that I don't "exist" here . . . and while I'm sure that's going to be quite disturbing and cause a few nightmares as well as fits of paranoia, I can assure you, I only use this trick to benefit other people . . . and maybe sometimes eavesdrop on my friends . . . just for fun."
By the time I'd finished saying this last bit, I had "put away" my sai, making it disappear in another flash of white light.
"I also have the ability to heal. No mat ter how sick, or chopped to pieces you a re, I'll be able to fix you. I can also manipulate your brain . . . I can make you think that you aren't feeling any pain at all, even if your intestines are hanging out . . . hell, I can even make you think that it never happened in the first place, and perhaps the most you'll remember about it is just some sick, twisted nightmare."
"However . . . there's a catch. I only use my powers if the need arises, in order words, if it's either (A) My responsibility to take care of whatever shit is going down in any place or time, or (B) If it's to protect the person whose job it is to save the world . . . well, him, and a few of his friends . . ."
"Also, even though I have the ability to bring the dead back to life, that doesn 't mean I can do it all the time . . . actually, I don't think I've ever done it at all, really.
"That isn't to say I haven't tried . . . oh god knows I've tried . . . but . . . every time I do, it's like I run into a wall . . . something keeps stopping me . . ."
I shrugged. "My guess: the Big Man Upstairs" I continued, pointing up at the ceiling.
"I guess it has something to do with" I waved my hands about randomly, "spookily " . . . but mostly mockingly as I said i n an overdramatic voice:
""UPSETTING THE COSMIC BALANCE" or some other shit. Which I guess kind of makes sense, since, if I just went around rescuing everybody from certain death, then . . ." I let my hands down, feeling somewhat defeated.
"Well, anyway, the point is you can't expect me to be doing everything for you. My main goal here is to keep you alive . . . and to stop the killer. The rest, I'm sure . . . no, I know for a fact . . . that you can take care of yourself."
"So . . . what do you say?"
Sen's Playlist:
Enjoy the Silence – Depeche Mode
Enjoy the Silence (Linkin Park Mix) – Depeche Mode
L's Theme A, B, and C (or, L No Nakama, whatever) – Death Note Soundtrack
Misa no Uta (orchestra version) – Death Note Soundtrack
Ring My Bells – Enrique Iglesias
Fallen – Sarah McLachlan
Dr. Online – Zeromancer
Moon Dance – Nightwish
