Chapter 2: A small insight into the relationship between L and his successors.
Disclaimer: I, Cambreon, do not not own Death Note, L, or any copyrighted Death note characters.
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/August 9th, 2004/
One whole week later, I still feel the same. Halfheartedly, with nothing else to do, I scan over the notes on the glaringly bright computer screen that Light has put together. Nothing useful.
I look around me. The room is so large, a simple sneeze could echo at this point. Dull metal grays color my surroundings; large computer and television screens gaze down at me with their inanimate coldness.
It's 3:37 in the morning. Still hand-cuffed to me is the ever loyal Yagami junior, having fallen into a thick slumber in a rather plush office chair just to my right. The rest of the task force are also asleep, some having gone home, the rest having a room in our current head quarters.
Not hungry, wide awake, and bored stiff, I suddenly have the urge to push up against the desk before me and spin round in the computer chair, anything to alleviate my boredom. Hopefully Light won't wake from all the tugging on the chain…
That's before the monitor in front of me flashes white, momentarily stunning me, and the familiar gothic style 'W' appears at its center. Pressing my index finger down on the communicator button, I speak lowly as not to disturb the young man next to me. "Yes, Watari?"
"Ryuzaki, your package arrived more or less ten hours ago. But I decided it would be best to wait until everybody was sleeping." Watari is also careful to watch his voice; to this I'm thankful.
I glance over at the sleeping brunet once more before nodding to myself. "If you would please bring it up."
"Of course, Ryuzaki." The line is cut and the computer screen returns to what I was last viewing.
So here I sit, in my customary position, my chin resting on my jean-clad knees while my arms hang down to play with my two big toes.
Any moment now.
Only after two minutes does a soft knock echo through the empty room, causing me to glance right ways again, just before Watari enters. Under his arm is a medium-sized brown envelope. As he hands it to me, bidding me a good night, I see that it is sent from the orphanage. This is how it has been every year, for the last eight years.
Now there is a stack of pictures in my lap, about ten to fifteen of them, as estimated. If I had to assume, these were probably taken after the Easter-egg hunt held annually on the orphanage grounds.
Let's see… if it's 2004, then that would make Mello… almost fifteen. Young Matt would also be fourteen…
I hold up a photograph of the boys by my two thumbs and index fingers. The kids show off their Easter baskets victoriously.
I idly wonder if they consider themselves a bit too old to be partaking in events such as these, but then I remember my young heir's lust for anything chocolate (the plastic eggs usually held small chocolates within them). Matt, being his right hand, was most likely dragged along… Yes, there's a ninety-seven percent chance of that.
Placing that one under the stack, I peer at the next. Slowly, my eyes widen, and I can't help but wonder if they've become complete circles.
Flipping the picture over (I just have a feeling), I find a small note written in somewhat neat cursive.
I found this in an old scrapbook that Mello hid under his bed. The date on it means I was four. But this one is my favorite because everybody looks so funny! And look, even Beyond is in this one! I miss him, but I miss you even more, daddy. I wish you didn't have to burn this one when you're done.
I glance at the corner of the picture's back and see the small numbers that read: 11/19/00
Well, with that information I'm now able to thoroughly study the picture with a less puzzled air.
It's quite the ethereal experience, seeing my young heirs all in one picture, so little… so unlike their current counterparts. Four years shouldn't have changed them all that much…
Near―back then, he always wore white turtlenecks—no exception. His eyes were much larger, in a more innocent a way. I could not tell that much from this picture alone, (he was almost completely turned away) but I remember from other photographs. Mello once joked in private with me that Near must have licked toads or gotten a hold of some illegal drug, as he was almost pupil-less.
Mello―his honey-colored hair was longer, past his shoulders. I don't remember how many people mistook him for a young woman before he finally did away with a few inches. His eyes also lack the hardness I'd encountered the last time we met. In the current situation, they are wide with shock, as his mouth hangs open, most likely in an exclamation of not being ready yet.
Next to him― … next to him…
There he is.
…There I am? No.
Beyond Birthday, no doubt. My (late) second successor: B, with those owl-ish eyes of his, and the deep bags that hung under them. With his horrible posture and his tousled hair. All of these aspects about him―all of these aspects about me… were almost unnerving… Were.
Were.
Not anymore.
I continue to take in his appearance carefully. From his oddly tinted eyes, to the downright mischievous gleam they hold, to his lanky body adorning loosely fitted clothes, ending at his sickly complexion. He is the only one actually smiling for the camera, but even so, his eyes seem to be diverted slightly to the left… or his right.
I can no longer look at this boy. Now is not the time to reminisce in the past… Now is not the time to think of him as another victim of Kira.
Placing my thumb under my lip, I hum a random soft tune as my eyes land on the last person in the picture.
Not another successor, no. Not quite.
Mello's free arm is held up in surprise, but his other arm is hooked under the body of a small girl, holding her against his chest as she hangs one arm around his neck for a better sense of security.
Wide cobalt eyes stare back at me with an air of hesitation, shaggy black tresses framing her infantile face. Her other arm is extending out, a petite hand holding a fistful Beyond's long white sleeve, as if trying to warn him of the camera. She wears a rather cheery cotton dress of lime-green.
Yes, my Ella. Well, only I am able call her that. My successors have quite a few nicknames for her, but usually address her by Elle, Elena… or, as B used to mock me, Eleanor (The boy had a way with finding out one's real name…).
I have always acknowledged the fact that Elena holds a remarkable resemblance to me (she is my child after all). Almost everyone at the orphanage has said that she's growing to look more and more like me with every passing year (minus my obvious eccentricities), but now that I put my mind to it, I know she could easily pass off as my twin (if not for the apparent age and gender difference). When I was her age, I looked nearly the same.
The only noticeable difference is her eyes. They contrast to mine rather violently. Elena's eyes... are like two large orbs of sun reflecting on the ocean's surface. As for mine, well, they're like... black pools of―mystery, and detachment! Well, that's what I've been told...
But, at times I cannot bear to gaze into her eyes for too long, or else a dull pain threatens to resurface over my heart. You see, she has her mother's eyes: Alenka's eyes. I won't get into a long story now, because I fear Light may wake up at any moment, and find me here, with these pictures.
I will just say that… (and excuse me if I do sound cliché) even if we were terribly young and naïve, I don't regret anything that happened. She helped me truly realize the depth behind the phrase "my one and only"...
And as with my late successor, B, I will not trouble my mind with memories, or ponder on what could have or have not been.
As those thoughts drift away, an idea suddenly crashes over my mind like some severe sugar overdose (They're not as bad as people think) and I place my fingertips over my parted lips as my eyes widen, the mechanics of my brain working twice as fast as before.
I still suspect Light Yagami as Kira, and Misa Amane as the second Kira. But, I should try something more interesting; maybe use some 'scare' tactics. If Kira and the second Kira had 'shinigamis' as mentioned in the video, I could possibly use this supernatural twist to my advantage.
I'm quite capable of playing mind games.
My Ella, she gives the impression of being twin material, as I have stated before. If I have her brought here, she could pose as some sort of apparition, perhaps...?
…No. What am I thinking? Am I so desperate as to put my own child in the line of fire? What is the percentage of something like that working, anyway?
Suddenly feeling disgusted with myself, I slump my head into my lap, the pictures fogging up as I breathe slowly onto them.
Apparently, I must have been in this position for quite some time, because before I can react to the sound of chains rattling, a hand is shaking my shoulder, a voice calling out my alias softly.
"Are you awake, Ryuzaki?"
I cross my arms over my chest, pulling the pictures and envelope into their protective hold, before slowly rising to meet the inquisitive gaze of Light. "I have been awake for the past—" I pause to examine the clock on the computer screen "…sixty seven hours"
I can see Light resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Of course, Ryuzaki." He then reaches out to my face.
I instinctively shrink back, causing the teen to pause and stare as if I've done something completely stupid. He then quickly snatches something away from my face, the object having been stuck to my forehead. How that is possible, I'm not sure.
It suddenly hits me what Light is examining, and I can't help but feel a foreign emotion surfacing.
Panic.
But, I hide it professionally.
"Who is this, Ryuzaki?" He turns the photo for me to see. It is another (current) one, just of Elena, that I haven't gotten to see yet.
Her hair reaches her shoulders now, her sun dress blows in the wind as she swings back and forth on the swing set, and I can't help but feel sick when I look at the dazzling blue orbs under those ebony bangs. It's almost as if they are calling out to me from the grasp of the killer's hands.
"… That would be my twin, Light-kun…"
Light stares at me, obviously seeing through the shallow lie. "Ryuzaki, this is a child. And this photograph seems fairly new."
I shake my head slowly, bits of shadowy locks brushing the bridge of my nose as I begin biting my right thumbnail. "It was digitally enhanced. And she has been dead for years. I handled her case some time ago and brought her killer to justice."
A quick save, but… No, it seems Light has taken the bait (but who knows what's going through his head at the moment).
His eyes soften as he returns his gaze back to the picture. "I'm sorry for your loss…"
"Are you really...? You've never even had the chance of meeting her." The emotionally sterilized words escape my lips before I can think twice.
Light turns to stare at me incredulously. "Ryuzaki… that doesn't mea—"
He stops short as I stand, hunched, with the rest of the photos still in my grasp.
"Come now, Light-kun. We could both use some sleep." This is a partial lie, because he knows that I sometimes stay up and stare at his sleeping form.
And so the boy grudgingly follows, seeing as how the chain is tugging him along.
…
I would be drawing too much attention to myself if I whipped out a lighter and started burning these pictures, so instead I tuck them into the pocket of my boxer shorts (I doubt Light would want to stick his hands down my jeans first if he tried to do anything with them).
For a while I pretend to sleep, waiting for Light to succumb to his exhaustion first. When I can hear that his breathing has deepened and evened out, I roll onto my side and reach over the bed we are forced to share, opening my personal laptop that rests on the floor.
…she could pose to be some sort of apparition, perhaps..?
"It was digitally enhanced. And she has been dead for years."
"I'm sorry for your loss…"
No… I shouldn't be thinking about that anymore, but...
As I open up a private chat line to Watari, I silently wonder what kind of hell has been raised in my old orphanage earlier in the day.
Author's Note: If you have the Death Note profile book/ volume 13 then maybe you've caught on that yes, I made L a teen parent. Next chapter is about the Wammy House kids.
