"Perfect… This is absolutely perfect."
In a dark room, common sense told a normal pair of eyes that naught could be seen. Only the figure of a small girl, illuminated only by the gloomy light that came out of her laptop was visible to those with normal sight. But this girl was different. Her eyes were glowing a penetrating red which saw everything. She knew who you were, possibly before you did. More importantly, though, she knew when you were going to die.
Dark Yagami was your average law student; studious, intelligent, and a strong sense of justice. Her sense, however, was so strong, that when something would be presented to her, she would form an opinion, and nothing at all could stray her from that. That's why, thirty years ago, her fate had already been decided; what she'd live for, how long she would live, and even how she would die.
When Dark was thirteen, she began staying in her father's old home. That's when it happened. One day, when scavengering through her room, she found something that would change her life forever. It was a small package from the past… A package left for her from her father. Dark, up until that time, had no idea who her parentage was. What she discovered astounded her. In the small brown box was a note, going something like this;

---

Child,
You'll know this message is meant for you if you're reading this. I have idle time to write this before the idiots here discover what I'm doing, so it'll have to be quick. I, excuse the classic quote, am your father. By the time you'll read this, I'll either have won, or be dead. I, for one, hope it is the former. Read this carefully.
I am Kira. And if I cannot continue what I am doing so many years from now that you have this, and all that is in this case, you know what you have to do. You of all people carry both Kira and the second Kira's genes in you; you know what is right for this world. I've given you what you'll need to create a new world… To create a better world.
This is what you were born for, and what you will live your life doing.
I pray that all goes well.

Light Yagami

---

The young girl, now shocked, looked through the case. What would be in it? What was the instrument that Kira… Her father had used those many years, to kill those criminals in an effort to do what he believed what right?
A notebook. That was all the box contained. Dark Yagami picked it up, and sat on the small bed that was in her room. The first page was simply inscribed.
The human whose name is written in this note shall die.

Following that was a series of other "rules", as they were called. Some completely obscure, relating to the most random times; forty seconds here, six minutes there… It seemed unreal. But this girl knew in her heart that it wasn't. Now it was up to her.
Would she continue on in her father's footsteps? Be chased after by authorities? Possibly arrested, then killed at an executioner's hand if she wasn't murdered by a protester first? Thoughts clouded her head, racing around in every direction… What if it worked? What would she do? It was all so confusing… She thought she'd never make a choice…
Until her pen hit the first blank page.
That's the way it's been since.
~~*L*~~
Day walked through the hallowed halls of the police headquarters, her face dark. It had been a month till her father, along with Touta Matsuda, Shuichi Aizawa, and a few others had announced that it was Kira doing these killings, and she still hadn't made any significant conclusions.
Matsuda had said to her, "Don't worry… You're trying too hard. It'll come naturally. It's in your genes, for Pete's sakes! Wait… Why do they say Pete? Like, who—"
"Matsuda, concentrate! You're one to talk, anyway. When this case first opened thirty years ago, you wouldn't stop." Aizawa had said in reply.
"Touta-san, you're getting yourself worked up again…" The most recent member of the task force, Miki, Matsuda's wife, began to say to him. "This is going to drive you insane."
Aizawa's face had dropped. The two were exactly the same… Both Miki and Touta Matsuda were hyperactive in more ways than one, and had a habit of over-exaggerating at times.
Like that helped, anyway. She couldn't stop her mind from thinking she was useless, in a sense. That it was just like her to have her mind wander, that she couldn't even figure out a single case…!
Concentrate Day; just keep your mind on… Other things.
She slid open the door to a random room, the sheen on it reflecting her 'I hate myself right now' face back at herself. Inside, was something a bit different than the norm. In the room were two people, maybe twenty-three in age, she examined. Both looked very familiar to day… She must have seen them in a photograph somewhere, because if she had ever met them before, their stares and attitudes would have been burned into her mind.
Both looked very masculine, but their styles completely clashed. The more distant one had on a simple grey shirt and jeans, while the one closer to her had on a lacy white dress, and was obviously concluded by Day to be a girl. Their obsidian eyes looked at Day curiously through their thick, midnight black hair, though expressing no emotion in doing so. The one closest to Day had a pyramid of sugar cubes towered on the desk beside next to her, and the one further away had a lollipop in his mouth. The one closer to Day spoke first.
"Hello, Day."
The immediate shock split through the small girl.
"I'm C, and this…" C motioned to the boy behind her, who stood. "Is M."
Those names… There were few people who dared to...
"A-are you related… To L?" She said, her voice shaking. There was no way this was possible… . The great detective died so young, it just couldn't be.
"Why yes." The one in back called M approached her. "My sister and I are his son and daughter, to be exact. And if I think correctly, which I usually do, you're our cousin. Correct?"
Sister?! That was a girl?! Wow… "U-uh, no… My father was L's successor… But not related to him in any way."
C looked down to the ground, scratching her leg softly with her left foot. "Oh, so Far didn't tell you?"
"M-my aunt, Far? What're you talking about?!"
"If you don't know, it'll be explained in due time. Now if you'll excuse us…"
"We were just leaving." M finished his sister's sentence.
Day began to speak in some sort of an attempt to stop them, but the two walked out, without another word.

Day stormed into the small room where her father and aunt sat, staring at piles of information that one couldn't comprehend, even at first, second, or even thirteenth glance.
"Far…! What the heck's going on around here!?" Day inquired, her face serious.
Far turned around to face her niece. An exact model of her younger brother, the young woman's white hair framed her ice blue eyes nicely.
"What're you talking about? Oh… Don't tell me…"
"C? M? Who are they?"
Her face dropped, looking at her brother for any help, then looked back at Day. "That's my son and daughter, yes…"
"So you… And L-sama…?"

______________

There once was a boy and a girl. They grew up together. She always said she would do anything for him, and vice versa. They were alike in many ways; both born on the same day, each very bright and happy all the time… No matter how many times they were told they couldn't sleep in the same room together, one would sneak to see the other. They were the eldest where they lived; an orphanage, called Wammy's House. All the other kids were at least three or four years younger than them. Inseparable. One day, however, when they were eight years old, something happened.

A small girl with hair the color of a cloudy day's sky and eyes of the night was running down a stone path that circled Wammy's House in England. Her cream sun dress rippled with the wind as she chased a butterfly. A boy followed her; he had on a white button-up shirt, a grey vest, and dress pants that were covered in pollen from climbing the trees. So concentrated on the butterfly, the girl didn't notice a small hole in the road; as she fell, the boy began calling out her name. "Fleta!" He ran towards her and helped her up, sitting them both on the grass.

"Lawli…" she smiled.

The boy made an exaggerated gasp. "Look… You have a scrape…" He took her hand. "I'll find that butterfly, and put it on trial and give it justice for hurting you!"

She gave a small laugh. "You'll be a fantastic detective." She coughed, revealing a small bit of blood on her hand.

"Are you alright?!"

She attempted a smile. "I'm fine… Really. Don't worry."

A man approached them and took the boys away. "You have to go to Japan, L." he said. "Don't worry… It won't be for long." The boy stood and smiled to the girl.

"Give me five minutes…"

He ran inside the building, and soon enough, emerged in nothing but a huge baggy white shirt and messy jeans; he didn't even wear any shoes. The girl called Fleta couldn't help but to snicker at her friend's appearance.

"Lawli… Why're you—"

"This is part of my promise to you! I'll be back tomorrow; I'll only need to wear this—not even shoes are needed; that's how soon I'll be back." He smiled.

That night, the girl sat in the driveway waving as she watched the boy drive away in the can with the man, Watari.

He didn't return for 20 years.

Until then, she always sat in the driveway, every night, waiting for that oh-so familiar car to come back. It didn't. One night, as she went to walk back inside; now a beautiful 28 year-old girl, she heard the crackling of gravel behind her. Believing it to be just a part of her mind, she went inside, and lay in her bed. She couldn't sleep when he wasn't there, so she would just lie there until the sun rose again. However, in the darkness, she heard a soft knocking on her door.

"Yes…? Roger?" Roger took over Wammy's House when Watari left with L.

The older man's voice was just audible from behind her door. "Far… There's someone here for you."

And that boy walked in again; L, followed by the investigation team. That group of policemen had probably never seen him as open as he was at that moment; the girl screamed so loudly, and ran into his arms, and hugged him so tightly…

"You never wrote… Anything… I never knew…"

"It's alright… I'm here..." he began to whisper. "Your disease… How…"

She just stayed silent.

"I understand."

____________

Day quickly scoffed to hide her shock. "Makes sense… My dad would always be talking how you were always with him."
"Oh? He was, was he?"
Both sides were ready. Both willing, and slowly gaining allies as public knowledge grew. Neither knew how it'd end, nor did they realize who would be lost or gained along the way. All they knew, was that this was a battle for justice.
A battle with a mere, petty prize;
the world.