A/N: And here's the next chapter, which introduces the main twist I plan to throw in. I hope you enjoy it. And special thanks to those who have reviewed so far. I definitely appreciate it! I hope you guys will enjoy this chapter too.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Death Note.
Warnings: This is AU...somewhat...and in this chapter a what-if scenario is going to be introduced. Also this is my first time writing for Death Note so...if you see anything that's a little off, feel free to let me know. Constructive criticism is welcome. (That way I can do better in the future.) Thanks.
Chapter 3
The Notebook
A few hours later
11:59 a.m.
The bell rang, signifying the beginning of the lunch hour just as Crystal Makano stepped out of the principal's office. He had been lenient with her, though most students would call hour-long detention periods before and after school for the next two months cruel and unusual punishment that inhumanely cut into a persons sleep and precious social life. It may as well be an in-school suspension. Those had been common in the school Crystal went to when she lived in America last year.
The halls of Daikoku Private Academy are a lot grander than the schools she's gone to in the past. Back in those days, money was really hard to come by and public schooling was the only available option for the girl and her brother before he dropped out a few years ago. If Crystal thought dropping out would do anything productive, she would have followed in her brother's footsteps. Attending classes felt endlessly tiresome, especially when she slipped into one of her "moods". Everything in her world feels too simple sometimes, far too easy.
Things were different when she lived in Winchester.
Shaking her head, Crystal moves at a steady pace down the hall, trying to smile despite the dark feelings of nostalgia creeping in. Last night was one of those nights where resting was out of the question. Instead, memories of old friends and rivals plagued her every thought. Most of the time she could keep her mind from drifting in those directions, primarily to keep herself from feeling lonely since no one in recent years could really understand her.
Last night was different.
For a reason she couldn't discern (an unsettling matter in itself), Crystal thought back on her memories of the Wammy House Orphanage with a cold shudder. A dreadful sense of terror took hold of the young woman, forcing her to pace back and forth in her room as she tried to make sense of what was wrong and why her emotions were tumbling in directions they shouldn't have gone in. Instead of thinking fondly on the laughs she exchanged with the children who were more or less similar to her, the images haunted her and caused her heart to flutter dangerously in apprehension.
When thinking of L, her dearest friend from those times, Crystal's heart took an involuntary dive into the pits of her stomach.
Those bothersome feelings stay with her as the day continues on, making it impossible to live out this ordinary day like she normally would. Normally she could smile from her heart, even if nothing good was happening around her. She could laugh at jokes that weren't funny, could ignore the odd stares directed at her on a daily basis, and pretend that she didn't hear their voices when they talked about her, making statements that she's either bi-polar, has some other personality disorder, or is hyped up on drugs half the time.
Entering the cafeteria she notices the slight hush that falls over the large room. Normally some of her acquaintances would run up to her, ranting and raving about the latest fashion craze or asking for her help on homework. Crystal could usually go along with their antics, could immerse herself in what they talked about without needing to make any special effort.
The one thing that had always kept her happy or at least somewhat sane was the one thing that had stopped her from being able to become one of L's successors, aside from being adopted of course.
Distractions.
It's not that she's easily distracted, more that she craves distractions when the problems of her family life and other troubling things tumble into her awareness which was, unfortunately, a daily occurence due to the skills ingrained in her brain. As a child, she hated watching the news, but she watched anyway because of L's and the other children's fascination with crimes. With L being as brilliant as he is, he solved some of those broadcasted crimes within minutes.
Crystal watched, but she had hated doing so. She didn't want to believe that the people of the Earth were nothing more than greedy scum. It sickened her to even debate the possibility, so after a while she stopped watching the news with the other children and stopped helping on the small cases that allowed the beginnings of L's reputation as the world's greatest detective at the tender age of nine.
Granted, Crystal still read her Sherlock Holmes novels, but the crimes depicted were works of fiction. They couldn't possibly be grounded in reality, right?
The answer to that question wasn't something Crystal ever thought about. She loved the world she lived in and she loved the people in her life. She believed full-heartedly that all of them were good people deep down, every one of them...except maybe...
Crystal stopped the thoughts cold as she sat down in the corner of the cafeteria alone. Having kept her backpack on her person without placing some of its contents in her locker like normal, her bento box was already inside. Sighing, she retrieved the bento and placed it on the table with great care.
A hint of a fond smile crept onto her face when her fingers gently opened the bento that had been carefully prepared by her father. Rice-balls and sushi stared back at her, the essential chopsticks resting next to the food along with a small container containing extra cashews.
She ate without really tasting the food, instead savoring the imagined visions of her father preparing the bento and placing it in her backpack before going to work at the downtown market. His mother and David saw it as a meager job, one that couldn't begin to pay the enormous amounts of debt the family seemed to always be in despite his meticulous budgeting.
Crystal ended up cringing as she placed a california roll in her mouth, once again eating without really tasting. She hated the fact that her mother and brother were continuously deceiving the honest man wrongly convicted of murder. She hated keeping their actions secret from him, but it was for the best. Though Crystal commended her adoptive father for wanting to make an honest living, she realized that his wages along with the wages her mother made from her teaching job at the elementary school simply weren't enough to sustain the way they were forced to live. Travel expenses and credit card debts from fake identities in America were slowly catching up to them and if they weren't paid off soon, the government would intervene. It wouldn't take much time for them to figure out that they were fugitives.
Thus the reason David was so immersed in the drug world.
Once he had asked her to help him make the money they needed by becoming his right hand-man or woman rather. Her deductive skills were skills desperately needed by him, skills that could make the difference between life and death for him, and if he wasn't careful, the entire family.
She refused.
There was careful consideration involved and a part of her wanted to help him, knowing that if she joined his side they could rule the drug cartel. It'd be effortless for her, like breathing in and out every second of every day. The situation was becoming desperate to the point where her mother had started pleading with her, placing all desires to shield her adoptive daughter from harm aside.
The temptation was great. She loved her adoptive family and she knew they loved her. Albeit the kind of love her brother and mother held for her these days was a twisted sort. Her mother wanted to use her as a tool to maintain the hectic lifestyle of moving from place to place all over the world. After taking her away from the orphanage and spending ten years taking care of her and treating her like she was her own, she wanted a bit of payback. Crystal didn't begrudge her for it. The feeling was only natural, given the type of work her mother had involved herself with in the past.
David was another story entirely.
His love for her was different from a typical brother-sister relationship. For years she forced herself to ignore these differences, but recently the task had become impossible. He had always been obsessed with playing pranks on her, rattling her, trying to get under her skin in some way other than stealing her precious cashews. He wanted something more tangible and meaningful to hold over her head, to use as leverage so she would feel compelled to submit to him. David was someone who craved control since many things in his life...in their lives...were completely left in the air.
The Makano family drifted like the wind. They moved place to place without making any indentations to the world.
Crystal knew he once saw her as the living reflection of the instability he had lived with all his life, a living symbol of how he would never truly be able to impact the world.
It was a stupid conclusion for him to make in her opinion.
But with time, he discovered that he could break past her mask. He realized it when she reluctantly confronted him about his immersion in the drug world the very first time, two years before they moved to Japan.
She remembers that cold winter evening in Paris being one of the darkest she had ever seen, frigid rain pouring over her as she stood at the edge of a disserted cobblestone street, watching her adoptive brother somberly as he screamed at an older man with bloodshot eyes and a bag of Cocaine in his left hand. His words are words Crystal forced herself to forget.
However, she can't bring herself to forget the malice in his amber eyes or the desperation that screamed he was going to do something he'd regret.
Even knowing this, Crystal didn't move. Her sole purpose for being out on the streets to begin with was to find him. She had discovered long before that moment that David was making, selling, and using a variety of drugs. The signs were obvious, but she had forced herself to ignore her gut feelings until she simply couldn't take it anymore. Worry won out and she followed him...
Only to witness his first murder.
And after seeing her brother shoot the man once...twice...thrice, she sunk to her knees and cried.
Her gut told her what her next course of action needed to be. Her insticts told her to run, to report the crime she had witnessed to the police, and make sure justice was won for the poor addict because no one deserved such a cruel and meaningless death.
At the same time, she cried because she knew she couldn't do what she had always seen her childhood friend do...objectively distribute justice.
She cried so bitterly and loudly that David had to place his bloodied hands over her mouth and guide her away from the scene, whispering calmly in her ear with only the slightest hints of remorse, not for what he had done, but because she had seen it.
His words caused Crystal to cry even harder, shattering the masks she had worn in front of him and everyone else.
Crystal concluded that his actions and her response to them changed how he viewed her. Until that point he had resented her because of her refusal to let anyone see the cracks in her cheerful façade...
No one except L.
And it had been years since she'd seen him by then. Something had to give.
Still, after that night, she knew she could no longer ignore the instability in David's mind.
He would never dare make advances towards her, having some semblance of morality left even though he chose to continue down the road driven by the love of money; the root of all things evil. However, Crystal could see that David didn't love her only as a sister after that night. When her masks crumbled in front of him in the flickering light of the street lamp hovering into the lonely street, he fell in love with her.
Rather, he fell in love with her weakness.
She didn't bother to hide that weakness for a while and instead used it to her advantage, hoping her pleading would get through his thick skull. Sometimes he caved because he loved watching her masks of cheerfulness crumble before his eyes. It was something tangible Crystal knew he thought he could control and manipulate to his will, but it didn't satisfy him for long. Eventually he figured out that her begging and pleading had become a tool, another mask for her to hide behind.
It wasn't that he didn't care about her feelings or that he didn't think she was right to assume that the road he walked on would only end in his death. In the end, Crystal was aware that David was simply addicted to the adrenaline rush brought from the blood money and he wasn't going to stop for anything.
He only promised he would never kill again. To the extent of Crystal's knowledge, he has kept this oath. Still, Crystal couldn't be sure of how long he could keep it. Besides, there are ways to kill that never require the dirtying of hands.
She knew all too well.
Yet she was still tempted to throw aside what she knew to be right to help her family raise the money needed to keep them afloat. After all, her deductive skills and ability to take on different personas weren't the only weapons at her disposal.
Having lost her appetite, Crystal packed up the remaining food back into the bento box, closed it, and placed it back into her backpack before rising from the table. Checking the clock on the opposite side of the room, she noted there was still thirty minutes before her next class.
Needing some fresh air, the young woman decided she'd head for the roof of the building.
As she walked, she contemplated that the greatest temptation in giving into David's requests for help within the drug cartel had been knowing the repercussions of what would happen if the government caught up with them through the money trail.
Her adoptive father, convicted of murder, would probably end up on death row.
Just thinking about it made Crystal's heart sink. How anyone could seriously believe that her father, Yotaru Makano, was a merciless, cold, killer was something she would never be able to understand. He was too compassionate, too gracious, and far too naïve to fit the persona.
At some point, every person alive has masked their true nature, her father included, but even knowing that, Crystal knew without a doubt that her father was innocent. She knew before she investigated the murder he was convicted of, before she learned the name and face of the true killer, the man who had thrown her father's life in a tailspin.
Taking revenge against him would have been effortless, just as taking control of the drug cartel would have been.
The last time David asked Crystal to help him was when she came to this conclusion...
The most vile of crimes are the ones committed effortlessly.
And so, with more firmness than the other times, Crystal refused to help him or succumb to her temptations.
She realized that day that there will always be people in the world who are viewed as scum, but in hindsight, aren't the people viewing hypocrites? Who gave them the right to judge others when they were probably just as flawed in different areas of their own lives?
He who is without sin cast the first stone.
Unlike her closest childhood friend and the other prodigies living in the Wammy House, Crystal was someone who firmly believed in the existence of God. There were those who had sought out evidence of his existence through archeology and science. Some had found clues. Others found nothing.
But Crystal, despite being a person who normally needed all the clues, evidence, and answers, didn't need to have evidence to know the Red Sea had been parted by Moses, that the planet had once been flooded with water for forty days and nights, or that Jesus had existed, performing many miracles so the people of that time could believe in him and see him as the Messiah.
A hundred people could throw out evidence about how none of the events depicted in the Bible were possible, how the translators twisted God's message and other such things and it still wouldn't make a difference in Crystal's mind. Naturally she'd research their claims and such, but that's beside the point.
It was a simple question of faith.
Crystal had lost faith in so many areas of her life, thus believing in God gave her something to cling to. So she prayed, hoped, and lived her life as best she could. She adopted the mask of cheerfulness, wanting to extend the kind of love her father had given her and her family, as well as the love Jesus had shown during and after his short life. At one time, between her time in France and the United States, she had attempted attending church regularly, but because of circumstances and half of her family's involvement in mafia and drug dealings, she stopped going and instead studied relentlessly, reading her Bible from cover to cover and then re-reading and underlining her favorite passages.
Two specific passages became her inner mantra during particularly difficult days.
As she opened the door leading to the roof of the building, she thought of the first passage, Hebrews eleven verse one, "Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."
When she steps out of the doorway, the sun's light touching her face while the breeze brushed through her locks of curly hair, she briefly thinks of the second passage. Ironically, it's within the same chapter as the first: the sixth verse.
"But without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek him."
So she sought diligently, hoping for the day when sin and death would no longer exist.
Coming to the raised edge of the roof, she set her backpack down, opening it up to pull out a larger three-ring fuchsia pink binder before setting it down on the ledge. It closely resembled the one she used to carry when she lived at the orphanage. With a sad smile she opened up the binder, recalling a final passage: Hebrews ten verse thirty-five through thirty-nine.
"Therefore do not cast away your confidence, which has great reward. For you have need of endurance, so that after you have done the will of God, you may receive the promise. For in just a little while, He who is coming will come and will not tarry. The just shall live by faith; but if anyone draws back, my soul has no pleasure in him.But we are not of those who draw back to perdition, but of those who believe to the saving of the soul."
Crystal chuckled sardonically, thinking that those verses must have been in her head when she refused to take revenge against the man who drove her family to live on the run. With nimble fingers she forced open the three rings so she could withdraw the navy blue spiral notebook that served as her diary. She never worried about anyone finding it or reading it because she rotated the language she wrote in for every place she and her family moved to. When she lived in France she wrote in English. In England and the United States, she wrote in Japanese. Now, living in Japan, she writes the entries in French.
Tucked in the front sleeve of the binder were two small Bibles. The first was an Old Testament Bible while the other was of the New Testament. The Bible she normally studied wasn't one she could take with her from place to place, especially with the array of notes stuffed between nearly all the pages, so she had bought miniature versions for recreational reading when she was bored in class. Behind the miniature Bibles was another spiral notebook with completely blank pages for miscellaneous writing. In this notebook she would write little poems and songs, but mostly she drew. She wasn't an artist by any means, but she liked sketching people without them knowing. She drew during class, while she was in the park, and sometimes at home when her father was busy cooking, while her mother was grading homework, or when David was sleeping after a long day. Over the years, she's gotten a lot better at it.
Setting her diary aside, she closed the rings and flipped the loose leaf pages filled with notes from different classes, barely glancing at the elegant script as she passed by each page.
After turning all the pages she stared down at the empty back sleeve of the binder with a blank expression. To anyone else staring at it, it would look like an empty sleeve in the thoroughly stuffed binder, but Crystal knew what lied beneath the surface layers of pink plastic. Underneath the seemingly empty sleeve, she had hidden her darkest secret.
Most three-ring binders are made out of cardboard, surrounded by layers of synthetic leather and plastic. However, the back of this binder, and all the other binders she had held in the past consisted of a thinner layer of cardboard, accompanied by a thin layer of synthetic pink leather, and...
Another notebook, hidden underneath a thick layer of synthetic leather and plastic with a sleeve matching the inside of the binder's cover. The added sleeve hides the horizontal zipper near the bottom of the binder. When this zipper is opened, the notebook can be discreetly removed from the compartment.
As Crystal went about the process of removing said notebook from the compartment, she mentally wondered what someone would think if they were smart enough to see past the illusion she'd created using extra strips of synthetic leather and plastic. Most likely they would think she was crazy for going through such great lengths to hide another notebook that was probably filled with a long list of guys she was crushing on or something equally ridiculous.
Some of her female acquaintances may have commended her on the brilliance of such a maneuver if that had been the case.
Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.
Crystal's sea-green eyes narrowed on the two English words scrawled across the front of the black notebook as she withdrew it. The knots that had plagued her stomach the previous night seemed to triple in intensity just from looking at them.
Death Note.
This notebook had been part of her life for as long as she could remember. In fact, her first memory is holding the notebook in her arms, wrapped in white cloth quickly stained crimson as she stumbled toward the Wammy House, covered in her own blood.
She was four years old.
The owner of the establishment called her a miracle child because with the brutal wounds inflicted upon her by her biological father, she should have died. Most adults would have died from the injuries she walked into the Wammy House with.
She remembered nothing of her biological father, nothing about the madman's brutality. It was like she had never experienced a single thing until that moment. She didn't even know her name.
She still doesn't know her real name, even to this day.
But she walked into the Wammy House holding that notebook, she remembers that much. Later, while her injuries were treated by the doctors on hand, she watched a monster take the notebook away.
The monster appeared to be sad for some reason. Before she passed out, she felt no fear.
A few days later, as she healed from her injuries, the monster returned to her side while she lay in bed. She watched him curiously, confused by his presence but unafraid still. His appearance, as grotesque as it was, didn't bother her for reasons she could never firmly grasp in her mind.
He told her his name, Ryuk, and set the notebook on her bedside table without saying much else except to tell her that he was a Shinigami. Though only four, Crystal knew the translation of the word. It literally meant "gods of death".
But she knew in her heart that there was only one God and for that reason she saw Ryuk more as an avatar of death, one of the angels of darkness. Before ever reading the passage for herself, she knew that God wasn't willing for any to perish, but to live eternally someday.
Death had come through disobedience, through doubt planted in the minds of humans through the sly tongue of the demon masquerading as a serpent. Staring at Ryuk in those moments, she viewed him in a similar way. He was sly, not to be trusted, and definitely up to no good, but she couldn't see him as a devil either. He was somewhere in the middle.
As she lay studying him, he stated that the notebook was hers to do with as she wished, but he warned her that if she used the notebook she would neither go to Heaven or Hell. For some reason though, he laughed and said, "Not that you're meant for either place anyway."
What was that supposed to mean?
Better yet, how is it that he could talk to her as if he had known her for years?
Ryuk went on to demonstrate the powers of the notebook by using his own to kill her biological father, stating the man was nearing the end of his life anyway. She learned of his death a few days later, when she was told she'd be staying at the Wammy House indefinitely. Oddly enough, it was the same day she met L and the day she attained her permanent alias, Crystal.
Ryuk came back a few times after that, inquiring if she was ever going to use the notebook. Each time she would sneak him an apple and tell him that she didn't intend to use it, but wanted to keep it. He would leave soon after, disappointment reflected in his strange crimson eyes.
In the thirteen years she had held the notebook, she had never once written a name in it. She'd been tempted to use it so many times, but instead of doing so, she stashed the notebook away and kept it safe so its tempting power wouldn't fall into the wrong hands. Whenever she felt like she was close to losing it, to giving into the effortless movement of her hand and a pen, pressing against the pages that warranted death, she would open her Bible instead, clinging to words of life with all her might.
Day after day she would catch glimpses of the news, glimpses of robberies, rapes, assaults, murders, and the list goes on and on. Crime was rampant in the streets at night, sometimes in broad daylight, and each victim would cry out for justice. Crystal wasn't always around to hear the screams, but she knew they were echoing in the wind, that her brother was one of the people causing those screams. All of it left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Crystal had never had much of a sweet tooth, preferring the salty tastelessness of cashews, but lately she'd been paying visits to the ice cream parlor down the road from school to sugarcoat the painful atmosphere closing in on her. As a means of comfort over the last three weeks, she'd been chowing down on the Butter Pecan flavor, gaining a solid two pounds as a result.
She knew girls who would freak out about something so miniscule, but she wasn't one of them.
Setting the Death Note aside, she opened up her spiral notebook and turned to a blank page. After doing this she removed the black gel pen from inside her binder and started writing.
Dear L,
Each entry started out the same. Each entry was a letter to him. He would never see these letters, but it didn't matter. Being able to pretend that she was holding a long distance conversation with him was enough. She didn't feel as alone when she pretended.
I don't like the way I feel today. The emotions swelling inside hinder my ability to think clearly and too many memories are flooding through my mind. The days that pass drag on endlessly as the filth in this world increases. Mom and David have fallen prey to the lusts of the eyes. It scares me to know what lengths they'll stoop to, David especially.
The bell rings, but Crystal is barely aware of the shrill sound.
His mind is twisted. He fails to see this and won't acknowledge that the drugs constantly in his system have turned him into a different person. I've spent sleepless nights worrying about what he's doing, what I can't stop him from doing. L, I wish I could be more like you. Somehow, though just as pained by the world's horrors as I was, you could always set aside those emotions and objectively solve the problem at hand. As it happens, I know how to stop David, but to do so means using the notebook and ending his life. After all, I know David won't change his mind, even though he's in love with me and wishes my happiness. He won't stop because of the high this lifestyle gives him and while he promised never to kill again with his hands, I know he's signed death certificates for his enemies and the addicts surrounding him and his world.
He doesn't need to pull a trigger to kill anymore.
I never needed a trigger, or a blade either, just a pen and the blank sheets of the Death Note. Still, the pages remain blank.
But lately, I can feel the desire to fill the pages surfacing more and more. I can see the names and faces so clearly at night before I go to sleep that I've had to stop myself, unshed tears stinging the corners of my eyes as my hand shakes violently above the unmarked pages below.
Having the notebook has always been a burden. It hurts to have all the power and yet be so powerless. I can't do anything and while my belief in God has kept me sane, kept me from succumbing to this awful temptation, I'm not sure how long I can last. My resolve is slipping and if something isn't done soon, I'll use the Death Note and become a demon, like Ryuk. No, I'd be worse than him because...I don't think I'd be able to stop writing down names.
Nevertheless, I can't relinquish my possession of this notebook. Because I haven't written any names and have just carried it around with me my entire life...I'm afraid I'll lose all of my memories. Everything could disappear into nothingness. I won't remember my family, Mello, Matt, Near, Watari, or you...
Sucking in a shaky breath she dropped the pen on the page, pausing in her writing for to peer at the Death Note sitting on the ledge before picking it up with her right hand. For a good few minutes, she stared at the cover, a million thoughts running through her head before she picked up the abandoned pen with her left hand. Since she was ambidextrous, she started writing once more...
I've made a drastic decision. You'll never know this because you'll never read this letter or any of the letters I've written, but...
...Not having the slightest clue...
I've made the decision to find the other Death Notes in this world...
...that the teacher from the class she was supposed to be in right now...
...and destroy them, all at once. However, to do this, I'll...
...was only a few steps away from being directly behind her.
"MS. MAKANO!"
Crystal, having been in very deep thought, screamed bloody murder upon hearing the loud shout behind her. In the same instant she lost her grip on the Death Note as she began to turn toward the angry teacher, accidentally knocking the rest of her things on her feet with her left arm.
The girl would have cried out in pain at the impact of the heavy binder, but instead her gaze snapped to the Death Note as it teetered on its spine before precariously falling off the edge of the building...and toward the ground far below.
For the first time in her entire life, Crystal's brain froze and her jaw dropped.
She'd never admit it out loud, but there was another reason,(aside from being adopted), she could never become L's successor.
When completely caught off guard, the girl is horrendously clumsy, to the point of detriment to all parties involved.
And while such developments were normally comical, even to her, Crystal could only stare toward the ground in disbelief at what her clumsiness had done this time.
It was no laughing matter on any level.
"What do you have to say for yourself this time?"
Crystal flinched, having completely forgotten about the teacher of the Math class she was supposed to be in.
Breathing out shakily she faced the woman behind her, revving the cheerful bravado up to full blast with a smile that was both deliriously cute and especially creepy. "Tanaka-sama, you scared me. You shouldn't sneak up on people like that."
Ms. Tanaka placed her hands on her hips, not appreciating the sickly sweet tone in Crystal's voice. "If you were in my class, on time, then there'd be no need for this foolishness." Her cold grey eyes darted to Crystal's pink binder laying near her foot. "Pick up your things."
"Hai, hai," Crystal bellowed out, still in a slight stake of shock. She unceremoniously threw everything into her backpack without bothering to place her diary within the binder like normal. She was trying to regain her composure, but her heart was racing at speeds no heart should move in. Sweat was beginning to pour from her brow, the sheer terror of what could happen should anyone touch that notebook knocked the air out of her lungs.
By that point, Crystal knew one thing. She had to get away from Ms. Tanaka, go to the front of the building, and pick up that notebook NOW.
Once she'd zipped up her backpack she bowed her head toward Ms. Tanaka. "I'm really sorry. I didn't hear the bell ring. I was deep in thought and..." she trailed off, angrily thinking that there wasn't time to act like a goofy schoolgirl. "Um...I dropped something just now, so I need to..."
"Stop," Ms. Tanaka ordered, holding her index finger out toward her. "You've been a bother for the last time now young lady. Enough is enough." She grabbed Crystal's wrist. "We're going to the principal's office and I'm going to see to it that you're suspended this time! Not just for being late but for being a disruption to every class you're part of!"
For two seconds Crystal bitterly wished she were like Light Yagami, the kind of person who could act and sweet-talk their way out of anything, especially under the kind of pressure she was in now.
"Ms. Tanaka, that notebook has my homework for this period inside..."
"Speaking of," Ms. Tanaka interrupted, pulling Crystal along as if she were a crying toddler. "I'm going to prove that you've cheated on your homework and tests. You don't attend enough classes to be as smart as your test scores claim. I'm willing to bet all my hard-earned cash on the theory that you've found a way to cheat on every test, including stooping to stealing answer sheets from my desk."
Out of aggravation, Crystal dropped her bravado instantly, stating curtly, "That's a rather foolish theory to bet all your money on, don't you think? The probability of success on such a theory, when you have absolutely no proof whatsoever, is nonexistent." Smirking as she snatched her arm away she added, "Then again, if you want to hand me money, be my guest. I'll take it gratefully and laugh at your idiocy all the way home."
Leaving Ms. Tanaka to seethe in open-mouthed shock, Crystal ran to the door leading down the stairs while mentally making a note to interrogate the twenty-seven students that had been on the roof before the bell rang. Ten out of the twenty-seven were in the Math class she was supposed to be in now and one of them must have spilled the beans that she was still on the roof when class started. Ms. Tanaka, being the impatient woman she was, (she should consider marrying Mr. Tomoshi), got fed up (just like Mr. Tomoshi) and wanted to give her a hard time. Honestly, if the teachers just left her alone she'd gladly make a stronger effort to show up to classes on time, but good grief between her brother's attempts at pranking her, sleep deprivation, her struggles with wanting to use the Death Note yet knowing she shouldn't, and these crazy, flat-out bizarre, teachers...it's a wonder she makes it to school at all.
But in the end, none of those things mattered to her.
The Death Note was out of her possession. If someone else picked it up and decided to keep it...
She'd lose everything.
A/N: And that ends chapter three. This one was long and took me a good amount of time to write, but I think the result was well-worth it. So now, you basically have the history of Crystal's character in a nutshell...or do you? Stay tuned and review please. Epic penmanship is on the way!