Author's Note-Alright. Holy crap guys, it's been a long, long while-a whole eight months, I believe-and I really must apologize. I had been suffering from a lack of writing inspiration as well as some major writer's block for a while, but thanks to encouragement from my friend, beta reader, and resident Sasori expert-Puppet-chan-and my new English class, I've started to get back to practicing my writing a lot more often these days. Particular videos such as Memories: L Tribute with the song 'Angels Fall First' (watch it!) and 'Snow White Queen' especially helped, too, like with the dream and Orochimaru parts. I will say that I'm surprised at all the changes the site has gone through since I posted the last chapter. With one of these changes being the ability to reply to reviews, I shall probably take my responses to your comments on there, so don't think I've shut off communication with you guys. XD So anyway, I'm sorry that this chapter is a bit short but I'll hopefully have more in the upcoming chapters. Just think of this as a bit of a warm-up. And finally, as always, I don't own Death Note nor do I own Naruto. So...please don't sic your lawyers on me. It's really not worth it.

"You think you're going to manage to be that someday?"

Silence met the answer to that question.

"Look at yourself, kid. You're a hunchback freak. Who's gonna support a freakish-looking hunchbacked athlete? Can hunchbacks even play tennis?"

"I wasn't aiming to do it for a profession…"

"Then what's the point of doing it at all? I'm not gonna waste money on something you're not gonna pay me back in later."

Wide dark eyes frowned as this statement was followed by the sound of another beer bottle opening. This was the man's fifth one…he shouldn't have come in during the middle of this. This was a mistake. He looked around the small room, dim with only overcast light pouring in through the window and coming from the glow of the BBC, which was currently covering a case of several men being arrested for planting a car bomb that had killed six and injured thirty. Empty bottles of London Pride sat on the coffee table as well as being strewn across the wooden floor of the room-and not just from this drinking marathon. An almost-finished six-pack sat next to the man on the striped retro sofa, varying-sized vertical stripes of rust red, forest green, navy blue, white, tan, and gray decorating the rough fabric.

He could smell the cigarette smoke hanging in the room, overpowering just about any other odor. The ashtray that was on the coffee table would need emptying soon to keep from overflowing, and an unfinished smoke dangled in between the man's fingers. He resisted wrinkling his nose and opening a window-he hated the smell. Aside from the conversation he was having with the man, it was mostly quiet in the house. The television was muted; the only other source of noise aside from the bottles and themselves was the clock up on the wall, the hands passing mercilessly over the painted red numbers.

"Actually," L finally confessed. "What I want to be is…that…" He pointed to the television screen where it showed the police escorting the suspects to a couple cars.

The man barked out a laugh. "You want to be a criminal? I guess it makes sense, seeing as how you're never going to amount to anything at this rate. You can't even tie your shoes, can you?"

The boy narrowed his eyes a little. This man was exaggerating, and he knew it. L could tie his shoes-he just didn't like wearing them. "What I want to become is a policeman," he countered, giving the drunkard a small glare.

Matching dark eyes matched his gaze, suddenly more serious. For a moment, the tension was almost tangible before it was suddenly broken by the man slamming his finished bottle into the wall behind L, just missing the boy-intentionally or not, it one couldn't quite tell-as it loudly shattered into a hundred glittering pieces. A small, involuntary cringe crossed L's face as the man stood up after tossing the bottle in one surprisingly fluid movement.

"Hell no!" he stated fiercely, clenching his fists. "No son of mine is going to become some nosey-assed copper."

"They bring justice into the world-" L began, but he had the sinking feeling that he already knew how this would end.

"Justice? There's no such thing as justice!" the man countered, reaching out and grabbing the boy by the coller, raising him to the point where he was standing awkwardly on his tiptoes. This time L's nose did wrinkle-now the disgusting smell of alcohol on breath was mixing strongly with the already-sickening cigarette scent. "Justice is just a pretty word that's used to make others feel better when they're paid back after their lives have been fucked with. And it's really only brought to one side of a case, isn't it? The other guy ends up being screwed over." He released L's collar and moved to grab his shoulder next, to turn him to face the TV to provide an example, but L had managed to take such a chance to take a few steps back and disappear into his room before he could manage.

L leaned against the door, eyes closed for a moment as he let out a breath before opening them. When he did…they widened upon realizing that he definitely wasn't in his room.

In fact, he didn't recognize this place at all. He was suddenly standing outside, under the pale blue sky of the crisp autumn afternoon. The sun shone blindingly in comparison through the branches of the bare trees when he looked up, so it obviously wasn't that late here. Behind him were suddenly tall steel gates, and beyond that was a dirt road winding through a forest and down a hill. Taking a few paces across what appeared to be a dirt schoolyard in front of him, he took in the grassy land surrounding it and up ahead, off to his left…a mansion. A tall dark clock tower loomed from it, extending upwards as if trying to puncture heaven itself. Curiously approaching the mansion, his footsteps in the soft dust were about all that could be heard at the moment. Not even a bird…

He took in the large round window of stained glass above the front doors- a rose window-and briefly recalled hearing from his mother that they often symbolized the key to one's soul. He couldn't get nearly as good a look at it as he hoped from being so close, though he supposed that it made sense. Rose windows were placed high so they'd be more for the enjoyment of the eyes of God rather than the eyes of mortals-at least, that's what he had read once.

He was about to start up the steps that led up to the front door when he was startled by a loud bell ringing. He looked up at the clock tower and stared for a moment when his attention was drawn back down to the doors opening. Anxious children poured out of the mansion, talking, laughing, studying, none of them noticing him as they ran past. It was as if he was a lucent ghost, a being that had fallen into the wrong plane of reality.

It almost seemed like slow motion, so he was able to get a good view…but of what? Most of the other children seemed featureless, unimportant, and in muted colors as if they didn't even matter. But then he noticed that there were a few that seemed to stand out…

One of them was a small albino child with short curly hair and a teddy bear clutched in one hand, dressed in all white-a ghost in a crowd of shadow. He glanced over at L, almost questioningly, curious, but the expression soon faded to a lack of any emotion in general.

A girl could be seen following him, even smaller, with long, dual-brunette braids and an art book clutched in her arms. She seemed to pay him no mind as she trailed after the ghostly boy, calling for the albino to play with her.

Two others passed his other side, one being a redhead dressed in a striped red and black shirt with jean shorts, goggled eyes staring at a game screen, a peppermint stick sticking out of his mouth. The other was talking animatedly with him, a blond with a bob cut and blue eyes, garbed in an oversized black sweater and black pants, munching on a bar of chocolate. Like the ghostly boy, he seemed to notice L as well, but rather than just a passing glance, he suddenly stopped and stared. His lips seemed to form a few muted words-"Isn't…this…"

The blonde's words were stopped by the redhead, who didn't even seem to notice L as his back was turned. "Isn't this what?" the redhead asked. He then shook his head and began to walk off with the blond as he patted his shoulder with one free hand, the other keeping a grip on the teal Game and Watch system. Despite that he was talking to the boy, his eyes still seemed to be fixed on the screen instead. "You know, you're really starting to stress too much…"

When the entrance hall had finally cleared, the kids off playing and shouting behind him, L didn't even turn around to look back. Rather, he peered straight ahead and headed curiously inside, down the marble tile hall, looking around at the expansive room of oak panel walls and portraits, a pair of curled staircases up ahead. And as well as a staircase…

A figure stood before him, and for a moment he almost believed it to be his reflection. The doppelganger's head was bowed, staring down at the floor, so L couldn't see his eyes. He was dressed in jeans and a baggy black sweatshirt, his hands inside his pockets.

"So…" the other boy finally spoke up, practically as casual as one commenting that it was about to rain. "You finally came."

The head lifted…

The doppelganger…had red eyes…

L bolted up, wide eyes even wider as his hands gripped the sheets. He could still hear the sound of bells ringing loud in his ears, and for a moment he believed he was still somewhere back in England. But…no, it seemed not.

He was back now.

He was home.

"I'm…home…" he murmured to himself in firm reassurance.

He drew a few breaths in and out, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again, his clenched hands loosening on the cotton cover. This was one of the reasons he didn't sleep much. He looked around the silent room for a moment, taking in the familiar sight of puppets hung up on the walls around him-some half-finished, some finished completely. His sensei was nowhere to be found…he must've been in his workshop down the hall.

That was fine. He preferred to keep his rather violent awakening a secret, even from Sasori. It seemed he had been keeping a several secrets these days though, surprisingly enough, so at least he seemed to have some practice at it.

He didn't really want to think about the dream. It gave him a sense of uneasiness, like there was somewhere else he was supposed to be. But…this was his home. This was where he belonged.

…Right?

He rolled out of the futon and sat up, crawling over to the end of the bed and reaching into a small, scarcely-noticeable slit he had made in the side. Reaching inside carefully, as if performing a surgical procedure on the mattress, he pulled a small wooden puppet from the fluff, no bigger than about six inches high without really any special detail or feature. He had decided to borrow this from his sensei-without asking, of course. It was one of the smallest puppets he could find; he doubted Sasori-sensei would really notice much less miss it.

Climbing to his feet again after making sure the slit was covered and decently-hidden, the eight year-old slipped grabbed some candy that he had stored in a bottom drawer of Sasori's bedside table and headed out of the room, then quietly down the hall to go outside to a particular clearing.

…After all, he did he keep several secrets…

When he reached the clearing a safe distance from the base, he stopped with a slight frown, remembering how Sasori wouldn't teach him in shinobi puppetry. He only stuck to the basics with him, even though they both knew L had the capacity to excel at more complex jutsu. For a brief moment, L wondered if it was because of a matter of trust…but then he shook his head slightly and pushed those thoughts away. He needed to focus on training.

Setting the puppet on the ground, he focused his chakra into his fingertips, concentrating. The chakra began to flow from his fingers like small waterfalls of energy, and with further concentration he was able to narrow them out to become thinner like strings. He was coming along…fairly well, he believed. All things considered, at least.

…All things considered.

But this would be much easier and go far more smoothly if he had some professional training rather than just what he had seen and read in books. It was almost frustrating, but now was not the time to think about what he could not control.

The strings attached one by one to the puppet's limbs, and slowly he began to lift it up. This puppet was light, at least. It was fine for a beginner like him to use. He'd have to make a bigger one for him to practice with later, to use once he had mastered this simple figure.

The puppet stood, and though it had no eyes or facial features added on, its head turned from side to side as if in an attempt to look around. A few twitches of the puppet master's fingers and it began to walk towards the edge of the clearing, towards the shade of the trees and though a little shaky, decently stable enough. As a light breeze rustled through the trees, L vaguely noticed that it was drawing close to the beginning of autumn. However, it wasn't too far into the season-the leaves were only just beginning to turn and while the warm temperature had dropped slightly, it was still quite a far cry from chilly. The crisp, pale blue skies from his dream were still a ways off. But similar to his dream, the noon sun was high in the sky, casting shadows around the clearing, though he stood more so in the sunlight where darkness had not yet touched. All was silent, save some of the chirping of surrounding birds and the twitching of twigs from squirrels.

But suddenly…that silence was broken.

"Eight years old and already practicing shinobi puppetry…" a familiar serpentine voice spoke up. "You really are Sasori's subordinate."

Concentration broken, L's head shot up, wide eyes wider. He hadn't intended for anyone to learn of his secret anytime soon-especially not his sensei's partner. His dark eyes then narrowed a bit when the paste-white Sannin stepped out from behind a tree next to the now-limp puppet.

Amber eyes flickered downwards as their owner reached down and calmly, casually picked up the puppet. "And yet you're not receiving any lessons on this from Sasori? Such a shame…he really is letting talent go to waste."

"My training is none of your business," L countered simply, his voice going to monotone.

"I suppose that is true," Orochimaru replied. "It is yours and Sasori's business. But only one of you seems to be taking it very seriously, am I right?"

"Why are you here?"

Orochimaru's eyebrows raised slightly as a slight grin crept across his face. "I was merely going on a walk to town," he replied.

"You were following me," L corrected, narrowed eyes studying him. Even though his tone was monotone, his expression showed a bit more than that-annoyance, caution.

"Following you?" the snake-like man repeated, now with an air of mild amusement. His lips twisted into a smirk. "You shouldn't be so arrogant," he responded without missing a beat. "I have better things to do than to stalk my partner's young student." He took several steps forward, past L before stopping just beyond the borderline between light and shadow, his pale form now illuminating the shade as if it gave off its own personal glow. The two were back to back, and now even the birds didn't seem to be chirping. "But tell me, now that I have seen what I have seen… Does Sasori even know?"

That was followed by a long silence as well. No vocal words exchanged, but the silent words rang as loud as cathedral bells. Finally Orochimaru glanced over his shoulder at L, his golden eyes confident with practiced persuasion. "It is indeed a shame. I can't possibly imagine why not… He does trust you enough to learn complex jutsu such as shinobi puppetry, doesn't he?" he finally questioned, breaking the silence.

The boy frowned, his head lowering a bit as his eyes stared down at the ground. But other than that, he was still trying not to give anything away. He wasn't entirely sure just how much Orochimaru knew he was right, that he had struck a slight nerve… After wondering about that question himself…and the Sannin was his sensei's partner; well, as much as he hated to admit it, Orochimaru probably knew him better. Didn't he? It would be no wonder if he could draw such a similar conclusion so accurately so quickly…

But then a brief surprise came when Orochimaru spoke up again. His voice held no real malice, but…more like gentle inveiglement with almost a few unexpected light tones of concern sprinkled in. "I'll let you in on a little secret, L-kun," he finally said, breaking the silence. "A piece of advice since you don't seem to be completely a lost cause and because you are my partner's student and subordinate."

L hesitated before reluctantly turning around fully to look at his sensei's partner. He couldn't help it; his curiosity had been ensnared.

"…Yes?"

"I've seen many things in my time," the Sannin began. "Including the rare occurrence of when a foreigner comes into our lands and attempts to learn our jutsu. Even the rarest of those rare people, the ones with talent, seem to take at least twice as long as the average student to learn. Even longer when they are without a sensei and they attempt to stray into the territory of the more complex jutsu. The fact that you have mastered this much so quickly and at such an early age speaks volumes. You began learning how to control and channel your chakra before even receiving guidance of any sort from Sasori, after all."

He then lifted the limp puppet in his hand, looking down at it and keeping his eyes focused on that. "However…now that you've begun to learn specific jutsu, I'm almost curious as to how far you would be without any sort of direction at all. I wonder if you'd have reached this point without any of Sasori's training."

L frowned. "What are you implying?" he questioned, even though he already had a good idea.

"L-kun," the Sannin reminded. "You are one of these talented foreigners. Even if it feels like you're at home by now, you are far from your native environment and out of your true element here. You can train alone in this clearing all you like, but unless you choose to explain this little secret of yours to Sasori or find another sensei that is actually willing to teach you more serious jutsu, you won't make that much progress as a shinobi. The best you could possibly hope to accomplish at this rate is…" He paused to think for a moment. "Mediocre chunnin level."

He then gave an indifferent shrug, and suddenly any former suggestion of his own opinions on the matter through tone was dropped. "But you are an intelligent young man. Whatever choice you make about your training is yours and yours alone. After all...if you plan to be content with only the basics, it really makes no difference to me."

With that spoken, he had disappeared into the forest, leaving the tiny puppet sitting on a branch of a nearby sapling…as well as his words and subtle suggestion hanging in the suddenly-cooler air of a dying summer.

L watched the Sannin leave with a slight, troubled frown before walking over to the sapling to pick up his puppet and stare at it in thought. Despite the lack of trust he had for Orochimaru, he knew his words were probably true: he was out of place here, and training alone without any guidance aside from books wouldn't get him very far. The fact of the matter was that he wanted to learn more, he really did. But he couldn't seem to convince Sasori-sensei to teach him for…whatever reasons.

"Sasori-sensei…" he whispered. "Do you really not trust me enough to learn your true art?" His dark eyes moved upwards toward the sky, as if its brightness would shed some light on answers to his question. It seemed he had come to the point where he would have to make a choice he really didn't want to. It really should've been a no-brainer, but for the first time in a long time, he felt very unsure…and it wasn't a feeling he particularly liked. Either way it would be a gamble.

Should he seek out the aid of the scorpion…or the snake?

Author's Note-I hope for a warm-up, this turned out well. Orochimaru had me a little iffy at parts, as well as L's father (the only drunks I am really used to writing as are the clingy, happy drunks (coughcoughMellocoughcough XD); not so much the violent abusive ones.) So please drop by and leave me a review, let me know what you think. Flames will be added to particular death scenes in the original Death Note series.