A/N: Yay, new chapter! Personally, I like this story so far. ^_^ Hopefully, Michelle will prove to be a decent character, and not too Mary-Sue.
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note.
"Talking."
Thinking.
What was going on?
Michelle was certain that, when she'd fallen asleep that night, she had been, well, herself.
She'd fallen asleep with her waist-length, chocolaty brown hair sprawled out on her bed, and she'd rubbed her emerald green eyes with her tan fingers before closing them and falling into the land of dreams. She'd had her usual dream – she frolicked around in a field of lilacs, laughing and cheering, and right as she went to lay down in the field, the world collapsed around her and she woke up. Normally, she would think nothing of it and merely roll over to go back to sleep, but now, as she brought a hand up to scratch her face, she noticed that her hand was extremely pale, compared to the caramel color it had been before.
In her groggy stupor, Michelle groaned and ignored it, blaming it on the brightness of the sun, and rolled over on her now sheet-covered mattress.
Wait, what?
Once she'd forced herself to sit up, she realized that her mattress – which had been bare the previous night, save for the blanket – was now covered with a clean, white sheet. She was mildly suspicious, so she stood to investigate. Maybe Mom put it on while I was sleeping and I didn't notice, she thought. But, then, where's my blanket? She walked around the bed, looking for the handmade blanket, but it was nowhere in sight. In its place was a white comforter. As she looked, she realized that the bed frame looked completely unfamiliar to her, as well – her bed frame was old and worn, with little nicks and even some words etched into it, while this one was clean and new, without a scratch. Michelle began to feel panicked. Where was she? Had she been kidnapped, and by whom?
Calm down, Michelle. she told herself. I'll wash my face, and then I'll go look around.
After a bit of searching, she found the bathroom and pushed the tall door open, with a bit of a struggle. Everything seemed bigger than her here.
After closing the door, she wandered over to the sink and attempted to turn the faucet on, but could not reach. Scowling, she struggled onto the counter and turned the water on. She continually splashed water onto her face, in an attempt to make herself more awake, and more alert. Once Michelle decided that she was as alert as possible, she turned the water off, and lifted her head to look in the mirror. When she did, she gave a small gasp.
Her appearance had totally changed.
Michelle moved, cautiously, to touch the mirror. Is...is that really me...? she wondered. Her hair had gone from being brown and waist-length to being black and shoulder-length. She also had a small strand of hair protruding from the top of her head, something that she found extremely unappealing. Her emerald-colored eyes had turned a deep shade of purple, which she hadn't realized was possible. Her skin was pale, as if she hadn't been outside enough, or as if she'd become anemic. The one thing that was the most noticeable to her, however, was the childish gleam in her eye. She looked as if she'd gone from being eighteen to being eight.
What the hell? she thought. This-this must be a dream. It has to be! But...everything feels so real...
"Lyric!" a voice bellowed, startling her. It sounded like the voice of an elderly man, and he had a British accent.
"Who's Lyric?" Michelle mumbled to herself. Her voice sounded different, too – much sweeter, with the innocence of a child.
"Miss Lyric, please! You will be late for your class if you do not come here immediately!" the man demanded. "I understand that this is your first day here, and you are nervous, but you must go to class!"
I guess...that's me? she vaguely wondered. Well, if this is a dream, I might as well play along...
Cautiously, she pushed the bathroom door open and walked out of the room. Standing before her was a tall man, elderly man. He looked angry, but had a somewhat kind look on his face.
"I-I'm sorry, sir." she mumbled. Michelle noticed that there was something else wrong with her at the moment, as well – she was speaking Japanese, but her thoughts were in English. As far as she knew, she had never learned Japanese in school. Michelle had been taking French. How am I speaking and understanding a language I never learned? she wondered. Whether or not this is a dream, that's still strange...
"Miss Lyric, what was taking you so long?" he asked, pulling her from her thoughts. The man sounded livid and he, too, was speaking Japanese, but the thick English accent in his voice was still prevalent.
"I-I was...wondering where I was..." she responded in a timid voice.
"Ah, yes, I suppose you aren't used to being here just yet." he said in understanding as his eyes softened a bit. He held out his hand to her. "Well, please come along, Miss Lyric. Today, you will have a special visitor, and you must be prepared to meet him."
"A...visitor?" she asked softly, taking the old man's hand as he pulled her out of the room.
"Yes, a very important one." the man replied as they walked down the corridor. "He has been interested in meeting you ever since I told him about you. I know that you are very young, but please, try to act as mature and sophisticated as possible."
"O-okay, sir, I'll act as...um, sof-sophi–"
"Sophisticated." the man corrected.
"Fosisticated," Michelle said, still unable to properly pronounce the word. Was it due to her age? "I'll act as fosisticated as I can."
"Very good." he replied. He looked over down at her, a hint of worry in his eyes. "You...do you know why you are here, Miss Lyric?"
"No, I don't..." she told him, looking at the ground. "I'm a little scared, and I miss my mommy and my daddy...but they'll come back for me, right? And I'll be able to be with them again, right?"
The words spilled out of her mouth before she even realized that she was saying them. Why was she saying these things, as if they were true? After all, this was all just a dream...wasn't it? Even though everything was so real, and she could feel the warmth of the man's hand in hers, that was just the effect of a lucid dream...right?
The old man sighed, causing her train of thought to derail. "I'm afraid not, Lyric. Your mother and father...I'm afraid that I don't know where they are. Don't you remember how you were when I found you? You were by an orphanage, and you were crying..."
Images flashed before Michelle's eyes that perfectly matched that which the old man was telling her. She had been by an orphanage – at least, that's what the building looked like from the outside – and she had been crying. But, why? Had something happened to her?
"However, you'll be fine now," the man assured her, "because you'll live with us." He smiled warmly, and she couldn't help but smile back.
"I'll be okay with you, mister, I just know it." she told him.
The man's smile widened a bit. "Yes, you will not be harmed here. And you may call me Wammy."
They continued down the hall until they reached a room at the very end of the corridor. "This is your classroom, Miss Lyric." Wammy explained. "Because this is your first day attending a class, I expect you to be on your best behavior. Understood?"
"Yes, sir." Michelle replied. "I'll do my best."
"Very good." Wammy said. He pushed the door open, allowing Michelle to enter. Before she did, she asked, "When will my special visitor come?"
"After your class." he told her. "Now, do go in. If you are late on the first day, that will not be good for you."
Nodding, Michelle turned and walked inside the room, albeit a bit nervously. I don't understand. This dream is so long, too long. After all, I AM dreaming...right?
The class went by without any events of particular interest. The most exciting thing to happen was that she was asked to introduce herself, and when she did, all she could say was that her name was Lyric and that she was really small. When asked her age, she paused before responding, "I don't know."
The rest of the class was dull to Michelle – she spent most of the time wondering who the special visitor would be. This is the best lucid dream I've ever had. Michelle thought. But it's taking too long to end.
She left the classroom when the bell rang and walked down the hall to where she assumed her room was. Each room had a name on it, and there were several strange ones that she saw on the doors. Then again, she thought, Lyric isn't much better.
When she found what she assumed to be her room, due to the fact that it was the only door in the hall without a name on it, she pushed the door open and walked over to the bed, placing her newly-gotten school supplies on it.
He said that the visitor would come after my class, so where is he? Maybe he lost interest?
Michelle began to wonder who the visitor would be – a man, or a woman? Tall or short? Attractive or ugly? As the possibilities whirled through her mind – it could be a famous movie star or an athlete or a doctor – there was a knock on the door. It was soft and nearly inaudible, especially to one in deep thought, but Michelle managed to hear it.
"Come in," she called out softly.
The door opened, slowly at first, but eventually it opened all the way to reveal the one that had come to visit her. He was a boy – not a man, or a teenager, but a young boy – and he looked very strange, unlike anyone she'd ever seen. His hair was wild, as if it had never been brushed, and the clothing he wore hung loosely on his thin body. It looked to be two sizes too large. The most noticeable thing about him to Michelle, however, were his eyes. They still held the innocence and naivety of a child, but she could see in them that, although he was young, he had the wisdom of someone far older.
They stood gazing at each other for a few seconds, neither knowing what to say – and Michelle was too entranced by his eyes to bother trying to say anything – until the boy cleared his throat nervously.
"Are you the new child?" he asked quietly. He, like she and Wammy, spoke in Japanese.
"Ah...y-yes, I am." Michelle replied, holding out her hand to him. "I-I'm...um...I'm Lyric." I guess I have to learn to answer to that name now.
He looked down at her hand in puzzlement at first, before slowly taking it in his and shaking it. His hands are ice cold... Michelle thought.
"You've no idea who I am, do you?" the boy inquired. Michelle shook her head vigorously – she had no clue.
"But that man – I mean, Wammy, he told me that I had a special visitor coming, and that I had to act mature and...so-sof-sofi–"
"Sophisticated?" the boy interjected.
"Y-yes, that's it. Fosisticated." she agreed, silently cursing at the fact that she was unable to pronounce the word. "I have to act fosisticated."
The boy chuckled lightly. "I'm afraid you aren't doing a very good job," he said bluntly. "I am your 'special visitor', as he put it."
Michelle blinked, taking in the information, before her cheeks became aflame with embarrassment. "O-oh, I'm-I'm so sorry! I've been acting so childish and not mature–"
"It's quite alright." the boy interrupted again. "You need not worry – at your age, immaturity is acceptable."
"Oh, okay..." Michelle replied, wondering how old she really was. "W-well, thank you for coming, mister..." Her voice trailed off, implying that she need something to refer to him as.
"L," he stated simply. "You may call me L."
"O-okay, L." she said, smiling a bit. "I-it's nice to meet you."
"Likewise," L replied, looking around the room. It was still quite clean, despite the fact that such a young girl now occupied the space.
"L, can you tell me where we are?" Michelle asked. "It doesn't look familiar..."
"I am not surprised, considering how far you've come." L said. Michelle blinked in confusion. "How far I've come?" she repeated. "What do you mean?"
L glanced at her, a bit puzzled. "You don't remember anything before your coming here, Miss Lyric?" he inquired. When Michelle shook her head, he pressed a thumb to his lips. "How strange...well, I will tell you. According to Wammy, he found you wandering around an orphanage in Japan. The orphanage was full, and they could not take you in, so Wammy decided to take you himself. We are now in England."
"England...?" she repeated in disbelief. "B-but, Great Britain is so far away..."
"He flew you back on a plane." L explained. "And now you reside here."
"Wow...a plane..." Michelle mumbled, unable to keep the childish glee out of her quiet voice. Why was she so excited about going on a plane? She'd been on them before.
"I am surprised that you do not recollect any of this." L said. "Perhaps you have amnesia."
"Yes, maybe..." she agreed. "Or maybe I...oh, what's it called? I know it...I read it in a book...um...regressed memory? N-no, that's not it...oh! I remember! Maybe I repressed my memories!"
L looked at her curiously. She could read? But, judging by her inability to pronounce words, her height and her shyness, she had to be younger than five...but the book she'd read had spoken about repressed memories, and she'd understood what it meant. No book for a five year old – at least, not one that L had ever heard of – mentioned repressed memories or anything of the sort. This meant that she'd been reading books that were far, far more difficult than what she was supposed to comprehend, and yet she'd understood every word...
"...yes, he was right." L said out loud, although it was really meant for himself. "She will be a good successor..."
"Huh?" Michelle interrupted, tilting her head in confusion. "Succ...successor? F-for what?"
L didn't respond at first. He turned to walk out the door, but stopped before he could enter into the hall. "Should anything happen to me, and should B and A fail in their duties, you will be my next successor." he explained, looking over his shoulder at her. "Wammy told me that you would be a good successor for me, and he was right. You may be young, but you are already very intelligent, and that is a requirement."
He turned his head and made to leave. "Wait!" Michelle called out, halting his foot (which, she noticed, was covered by neither a shoe nor a sock) that had moved into the hall. "You-you speak so smartly, but y-you look so young...how old are you, L?"
"I am nine years old," he replied before disappearing into the hallway, shutting the door behind him.
Michelle went over to the bed and sat down, taking in all of the information that had just been given to her. Apparently, she was an orphan that lived in Japan, but was miraculously found by a man that worked at – or did he run it? – an orphanage in England. He brought her to this orphanage, where she met a boy that spoke and acted as if he were thirty, but was actually nine, and this boy told her that she would be his successor, should the two before her fail.
She inhaled deeply. This IS a dream...right?
A/N: Wow, this was long! I feel like Michelle's character got a little Mary-Sue at the end, so I tried to make up for it by having her re-evaluate her whole situation, to kind of make her seem separate from Lyric.
I've always wondered whether or not there was a third-in-line when B and A were at Wammy's House, like there was a third-in-line for Mello and Near. So, now Lyric/Michelle is the third successor! :D (And in order to keep the story going, I had to make her a successor somehow. XD) Anyhow, I hope you liked it! Please review!