A/N: ok, before I get on with the story, I would like to answer a question posed by someone. I commend that person for getting hold of my gmail account. Hmmmmn…sounds like something I would do. Well, anyway, that reader's question is how I come up with my concepts….well, the answer is that I take a bath….hmm….there's something about the smell of my bubble bath and the warm water that stimulates my mind to think….alright….end of author's note…..I'll get on with the story sometime later once I finished my activity for my class. update got lazy from writing comments and commenting about the differences of websites of different universities so I'll start writing right about now….

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note no matter how much I wished I do.

--Chapter 4--

--Beyond Iron Bars--

"I did not regret whatever it was that I have done," was B's first word as he saw the approaching figure of Lira from his cell in the prison. He was a pity to see, his face was unrecognizable as the clone of L for it looked like molten wax. As if it was melted down. His complexion was also that of a burned meat. Gone was the pale skin that he earned from staying indoors too much. Lira bit her lip at the sight of the battered figure of B and sat down in front of his cell.

"I never reprimanded you on whatever you have done the past weeks," Lira replied and stared into the ceiling. Looking at B made her feel miserable and worthless as his guardian.

"Well …" B's voice trailed off and faded away as if his own thought never caught up with him. He bit his bottom lip as if deep in thought. He looked at Lira who had settled down and was leaning against the wall.

"Why are you here?" he asked her, the words spilling out of his lips before he even knew it.

"I applied as a warden. After knowing that I was actually a product from Wammy's they stationed me here in your cell since its top security. They wanted me to talk to you and make you see sense. However, I do not think I could do that to you. You have always been so stubborn about your own decisions. And I respect you for that," Lira replied still staring at the ceiling, deep in thoughts.

"I thought you will go with L now that I am in prison," B said.

"L and I, we made a pact. I shall pursue him at my own whim. We have no commitments whatsoever. So, it has been my decision to stay with you till the end of your term here in prison," the young woman answered.

"But I have a lifetime sentence," B retorted.

"I am aware of that. And I have already come to my decision to stay with you. Like you, I am also stubborn," Lira answered with a faint smile as if declaring 'checkmate' 1 to her opponent.

"Well, do as you wish," B answered and slumped back to his cell. He felt unworthy of the care that the girl before him is showing him. He never knew what a family was but Lira was the closest possible one he could get to show him the value of paternal love. He could not cry. Crying only brings pain to his chest. But he felt so sorrowful because he felt like a hindrance in Lira's way. Somehow, he had learned to like her and even love her as his mother figure.

"Do you regret ever staying with me?" B asked after a few moments of silence. Lira gasped as though she was surprised by the sound of B's damaged voice.

"I shall be honest with you. There are times when I think why I'm still sticking together with you when you do such horrible things just to outwit L. But thinking back, I stuck with L even if it seems that he thinks that his job weighs more than what he feels for me. You and L are similar more than you think you do. So I do not regret being with you B. Because I also love you," Lira replied, and for the first time, she looked at B and smiled the kind of smile that she reserves only for the people that she knows best. Tears flowed silently down B's burned cheeks. Lira leaned as close as possible to B as the cold iron bars could permit.

"You know, when you cry like that, I remember the kid that L and I used to take care of, the kid who used to call us mom and dad. You know, I sometimes miss that child," Lira said reaching as far as she could. B reached out and grabbed her hand.

"Mom….I – I'm sorry," He whispered, trying to suppress the tears.

"You don't have to feel sorry. After all, we cannot redo whatever has happened," Lira said looking at B's trembling figure.

"But, I disappointed you," B sobbed. His figure made Lira remember the child that once slept with her and L inside a tent in the middle of the woods. Lira turned away. Looking at his damaged, crying figure makes her pity him even more. And she had promised L that she would not feel pity.

The days dragged by in the prison with almost the same routine with B crying his pitiful sorrows and confiding almost all of his woes, confessing his thoughts about L and almost everything that he felt sorry for to the only person he trusts: Lira. Lira listened, she was kind. She offered him her comforting words and told him that there's nothing to worry about. That she understood and that she knows that L had forgiven him no matter what he has done. But that wasn't exactly true. She knows that L's sense of justice is stronger than any other feeling he may hold inside of him. Somehow, L's personality is as dark and murky as the chocolates he so loved to eat.

It was just another day in Lira's duty in jail and she arrived once again at B's high security cell. She found the murderer slumped in a corner of his cell, staring into nothingness. The man started when he heard the click of Lira's shoes against the tiled floor.

"You were late," the man said conversationally.

"Wammy called," Lira said in reply.

"And so?" B asked raising an eyebrow, though it came unnoticed since his face had been badly burned that any contortions of his facial features were so hard to distinguish.

"He's worried about you. Never thought that this is what you were going to do after you left the orphanage without any notice. I think he was a bit disappointed but, I told him not to be," Lira explained. B snorted.

"The only time I heard him to be fully concerned of me," he crossed his arms across his chest.

"Huh?" Lira looked at him questioningly. Mr. Wammy cared about all the children in his orphanage, after all.

"All he bothered was to make a perfect carbon copy of L. He never cared what we fel – ," B's breath caught up in his throat as he felt a violent tug at his heart. He thrashed about in his cell as he gasped for breath.

"B, what's the matter?" Lira asked in panic. B was clearly in pain.

"My – my chest – ," B said, clutching at his chest and closing his eyes tightly, gritting at his teeth. The pain is becoming unbearable.

"H – Hold on! I'll call someone for help!" Lira said and made to run for the door leading to the main office.

"NO!" B screamed. "Mom, please stay h – here," He pleaded and groped for the metal bars but he cannot reach them. he heard the creak of metal and felt him being encircled in warm arms.

"Then I'll stay. But, B, you'll die," Lira said. B looked up and felt something wet drop and fall down his burned skin. He saw Lira crying.

"Mom, don't – don't cry. I've been meaning to d – die for so lo – long. It was j – just delayed for a bit," He tried to smile but he felt another tug at his heart and he gasped for breath once again.

"B!" Lira screamed, clutching him even tighter.

"When I die, then you could finally b – be happy wi – with L. Don't you like that, mom?" B asked.

"But I want to lose you too!" Lira wept. B felt the final tug and his eyes widened.

"I – I love you, Lira," he said before finally closing his eyes for all of eternity, never to open again.

January 21, 2004, the prime suspect of the Los Angeles Secret Killer case had died of a mysterious heart attack. Beyond Birthday's medical record was clean. He had no history of heart illness whatsoever and his death was one big mystery. It was something that was a part of the plan of someone who wants to play god.

B had died happy knowing that he had given way for Lira's happiness with L. He had loved Lira though he was not sure whether it was maternal love or something far more than that. A lone tear trickled down L's pale cheek as he heard the news of B's death from Lira who was crying bitterly at the other end of the line. L's hand rose up to wipe off the salty liquid from his face.

"Strange. Why am I crying?" the world famous detective asked himself.

A/N: holy s! 3 weeks to finish one chapter! There must be something seriously wrong with me. So, those who were waiting (if there are any) for an update, sorry to keep you waiting. Now, I must say that I cannot update until October because we have tons of school work to do (3 programs to write, one karaoke-style presentation to finish, a report to submit and some serious catching up with grades to pass the semester) them college professors are too demanding!! so, please guys, bear with me, onegai!