Once upon a time there was a man called L. He was a famous man, a detective. He had everything he wanted. But he was not happy. He had everything, but wanted none of it. He was sad.
On one of the many times he looked at security cameras, he saw a little girl, playing in a fountain. And that girl had the most beautiful red dress on. So, he was looking at the red dress girl, and he wondered at the look of total happiness on her face. And he was watching her happiness, and watching the water splash around her.
And then he saw a large man walking towards her. The man pulled out a gun and pointed it at the girl's back. She didn't even notice, she was so happy. The famous detective L ran down the stairs. He knew nothing about her, just that he had to save her.
But halfway down, he heard a loud crack! To him it was like the world had stopped. While the world may have stopped, he didn't. On he went, running down the stairs as fast as he could go.
He ran out on the footpath. The girl was just falling, the red of her dress becoming soaked more and more. The detective ran forward, hand outstretched, mouth open, tears almost coming out of his dry eyes. He could see the man's finger tightening on the trigger. But the detective was not afraid to die. So he waited, eyes soft and closed, still reaching for the girl, for the final bullet to come.
And upstairs, on the unwatched screens, two types of red blood mingled in the splashing water.