Picture Perfect Chapter 2: A, a death note fanfic

A/N: I would apologize for taking so long, but A has been giving me a lot of trouble. It feels a bit like writing about an OC, and I haven't enjoyed it very much. Anyway, next chapter shouldn't take as long.
Please review! No seriously, it would mean the world to me.

Disclaimer: Still not mine, still no witty comment here.

Wammy's House. An old building surrounded by a tall fence, one of those with spikes on top of it, the kind of fence that makes sure that no one will be going anywhere. A prison. And a very beautiful one, too. On the outside, of course. The inside was an entirely different story; many poor children had lost their minds in there, some had even lost their life. All of them had lost all will to live, even though they desperately tried to convince themselves that they had even more purpose now than they'd ever had. Of course, they were lying to themselves, and on the inside they were all withering away. Some faster than others, but all of them for sure.

The few children who knew this were the ones who lost their minds or their lives. There were those who lost both.

Wammy's House, said the sign on the fence. Wammy's Prison was a more correct name.

"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the Spider to the Fly.
"There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin;
And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!"
"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "for I've often heard it said
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!"

After Acceptance

After was tired. Tired, cold, scared, lonely, and basically miserable in general. He was lying in his bed, trying to fall asleep, but there was a storm outside and it scared him. There'd been a storm when his parents died as well... he didn't even know how they died. All he knew was that Mr. Wammy had randomly appeared one day and told him that his parents were gone and that they wouldn't ever come back. Then he'd asked if it was true that After was as intelligent as he'd heard and if he'd like to come with him. After had always been taught that he shouldn't go with strangers, but his parents had been away for many hours and Mr. Wammy had been smiling warmly to him. Besides, he didn't look like someone who would hurt a child.

So he'd followed the old man, gone on a plane with him even, had been taken to England and had now been at an orphanage called 'Wammy's House' for a week. It was an orphanage for very smart children, and he'd been told that they would learn how to function in the real world so that they one day could use their minds to make it a better place. That sounded great and all, but he wasn't sure just how that was supposed to be done; he was only four years old and he didn't know how to make anything better. He was actually a very negative person. He preferred to keep to himself (he hadn't even talked to anyone yet), he had a hard time trusting other people than Mr. Wammy, and he hadn't smiled in months now. Not even when his parents were alive was he cheerful.

He'd been dragged to all kinds of doctors and psychologists, who all said that is was a phase and that he just needed some time. His mother had, every time, yelled that something was seriously wrong with her child and that they had to do something or she'd go insane. His father had then, also every time, tried to calm her down and tell her that it was true; After was just going through a phase. After never really said anything, he just stared at his feet and tried not to cry.

But that didn't matter now, because they were gone and he was at this place now. And here they didn't think that it was odd that he wasn't a happy child; they didn't really seem to care, which was fine by him. He'd rather be left alone anyway.

He let out a small sigh and shifted uncomfortably in the bed, still trying to fall asleep, but the thunder outside wouldn't let him. Each time he managed to drift off, there was a flash of lightening or more thunder or some other scary sound. He didn't like it. He usually didn't have a hard time falling asleep. He shifted again, deciding to use a classic trick; he would count sheep.

1... 2... 3...

He had difficulty accepting his new 'name'. Especially because it wasn't a name, but a mere letter; 'A', they'd decided to call him, and he did not like it. He couldn't understand why he couldn't keep his own name, even though Mr. Wammy had explained to him that it was standard procedure since most of the children would like to forget about their pasts. After didn't care if he forgot, he just felt as if they were taking something away from him by reducing him to nothing but a letter. Nothing more than a letter, a letter. He didn't react when someone called him 'A' and he just couldn't get used to introducing himself as 'A'. A.

It didn't even stand for anything; just 'A'.

It had an almost eerie ring to it. Like something from a horror-book, something that wasn't really there, but it could still tear out someone's soul. Every letter sounded like that when he thought about it.

Particularly 'L', he decided.

Of course, he did not decide this until he actually met L. He'd been at Wammy's House for a year, and one day Mr. Wammy had come back for a few days, bringing back his newest discovery.

After noticed how Mr. Wammy's eyes lit up every time he talked about L, he noticed that Mr. Wammy only smiled at L... he'd never seen Mr. Wammy smile before L, actually.

L was a miracle. A bloody miracle. He was good at everything, everyone loved him, he was really annoying. And After was apparently the only one who noticed that L didn't seem to care at all about anyone but himself—and even that was questionable. L always seemed to be living in his own little world; if there was something that he didn't want to see, he pretended that it wasn't there. Even though After was a year younger than him, it seemed incredibly childish of L to ignore all problems like that.

Years later, L seemed to get better at dealing with minor problems, though; one day, he decided that it was time to ask After why he disliked him. After answered honestly, telling the pestilence that he'd heard Mr. Wammy and Roger talk about finding a backup for L. After was the second-best there. He didn't want to be L's backup. It was... humiliating. And the pressure... to know that he might have to replace the perfect L. Mr. Wammy didn't seem to care.

Because not long after, he decided to take L away, which would have relieved After a lot, but then there was the announcement.

The announcement that the ten smartest children in the house would now be trained to become L's successor. His backup.

It was then that Mr. Wammy seemed to deem it cruel to give the children mere letters as names, and apparently decided that they should have a name to go with their letters. After had been there since before this decision, so he didn't get an actual name, but when new children came to the orphanage, they were lucky enough to get one.

This included Backup. B.

He was brought in not even a week after L left. And he looked so... strange. He didn't make eye-contact with people, but instead stared above their heads as if he could see something that they couldn't. When he saw After, his eyes widened to an almost impossible size and he walked over and hugged him. After, of course, pushed him away and asked what he thought he was doing, but Backup just smiled at him and said nothing.

They became friends instantly.

Almost the moment they were told that Wammy's House would now be raising L's successor, the entire orphanage seemed to hold its breath, only to let out a defeated sigh. All laughter and playfulness faded away, being replaced by all the children studying intensely all the time. The ones who had been playing outside all day now locked themselves in their rooms, refusing to come out, all becoming obsessed with this new goal of theirs.

After had never played much with the other children, and quite frankly, he'd found their ability to be noisy at all times very annoying, but he knew that something was wrong. Children weren't supposed to act like this; they were supposed to be happy and innocent. But it seemed that being told about the backup-thing had stripped everyone of anything that could get in their way of becoming the next L. After knew that it wasn't really about L, but about finding a purpose in life, even if it would tear them apart from the inside.

Yes, After saw them lying to themselves and thanked whoever was watching over them that himself and Backup weren't like that.

After had never really had a friend before. He'd had lots of enemies and people who generally disliked him (and people he generally disliked right back), but no one had ever wanted to spend so much time with him as Backup did. He sometimes wondered why—if there was a day where they weren't going to be able to see each other anymore, but he always pushed that thought away, because he'd found himself becoming addicted to Backup. But at the most random times, Backup's eyes would drift upwards, above After's head, and stare at that invisible something, that something that always seemed to be on his mind. After had asked him once what he was looking at, but the reply he'd gotten had been "Ask me no questions and I shall tell you no lies."

That was one of the things he liked about Backup; he was so weird.

They were almost the exact same age, equally intelligent, their rooms were in the same hall, and Backup even managed to make After laugh once in a while.

It all seemed perfect, and for a while, After even managed to forget about L. He began associating the word 'backup' with something good, something that would take his pain away and make him happy.

And when After had trouble falling asleep, he would sneak into Backup's room, crawl into his bed, and they would count together. But for some reason, Backup counted seconds. Backwards.

60... 59... 58... 57...

Whenever he reached zero, he would start over. And he always seemed sad when counting. After didn't ask about the strange countdown, he just counted along.

34... 33... 32... 31...

"A, Backup, please come to my office," said Roger one day. They followed him curiously; Roger never called children (not really children; After was 13 year old and proud of it) to his office unless someone was in trouble. And seeing as no one ever really did anything else than study, this was a very rare occasion.

"I expect that you know why you're both here?"

Backup nodded, but After didn't have any idea.

"You two are exact equals in the exact same fields. I'm telling you this because there can only be one successor to L. You will both have to concentrate more from now on and we'll make the final decision in two years."

From that day on, Backup cared.

And he cared too much.

Every second of his life was spent on L— studying to become better than L, asking After about him, talking about him, probably thinking about nothing else. He even stopped counting when After couldn't sleep.

After didn't laugh anymore, didn't smile, didn't speak much. What was the point? Whenever he tried to start a conversation, Backup somehow managed to change the subject so he was able to talk about L. The scary part was that Backup didn't even seem to like L; in fact, he seemed to loathe the detective (because L was a detective now, had Roger said once), seemed to hate him more than anything. After didn't like L either, but... he wasn't obsessed.

It was too much.

He couldn't take it.

And Backup was becoming better than him, and After had to study as well, and there was so much pressure, and he had to be the best, because if he wasn't... if he wasn't...

Then what?

Then he would be forgotten, no one would care, he would be left to rot in his own loneliness, and Backup would leave him forever. After had to be the best. He wouldn't let Backup leave him.

The worst day of After's life, he decided, was the day, almost two years after they had been informed that they were rivals, Backup called him 'A'.

Backup had somehow known After's name since the day they met, had always addressed him by that name, but one day After apparently became competition.

(After Became Competition, he thought, and had it been any other situation, he would have laughed).

He had been reduced to a letter by the only person who had ever cared about him.

After didn't (couldn't) think anymore.

He was standing helplessly in the library, looking into Backup's eyes, and there was nothing, nothing, that could ever feel this horrible. Nobody cared...

There had just been a new set of children sent to Wammy's House... poor, innocent souls, none of them had any idea that they would turn into maniacs, that they would forget about everything that mattered to them, only to gain a title... not even a title, just a letter.

One letter.

Later that day, after having thought about nothing at all (nothing, like himself. Ironic), After decided that enough was enough. There would be no more sacrificing his sanity for the sake of nothing (again, nothing).

There was a rope in the tool-shed, right?

He briefly wondered if anyone would remember him as he went to his room alone.

Alone, again, like he had been when he had first arrived.

After had only lived for fifteen years... only fifteen. Nothing more.

No, that wasn't true.

'A' had lived for... how long? When had he stopped being After?

Nothing made any sense anymore.

There was no line between After and A, no line between sanity and madness, no line between life and death.

Death.

He shut the door behind him.

The last thing he did before ending it all was taking a little piece of paper. He wrote his name on it, because he was After, and A wasn't going to win:

After Acceptance.