Author's note: I wrote this at five-thirty in the morning and then went back to sleep. So yeah. Too short, I guess, but it's only a prologue.
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Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. Never have, never will, and I'm actually quite happy with this arrangement, as I'm sure you are too.
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L stared at the charred rubble ahead of him. He knew the little town had been attacked, but not that it had been destroyed so thoroughly.
It scared him.
Reminded of where he himself had come from, and so he got straight to the point.
There were two children being held in the neighbor-village, and those were who he'd been sent to get, but when he was sent to retrieve children for Wammy's he could never resist seeing their roots if it was at all plausible.
This was a horrible place to come from.
Imagine the fire screaming, your family screaming, and everything burning all around you. Imagine, your first memory, pain consuming and smoke in the air.
Imagine.
He rarely submitted to emotion, but when he found half a photograph with only a few burnt edges he just cried.
Someone had tried to save this. This had mattered to someone who was now just a body.
This was all that was left of them.
The children, Mihael Keehl and Nate River, were cousins who'd lived together. At least, together for the two months since Nate River had been born.
He took the photo and walked over to the next village, the cold creeping through his body and into his bones. He'd spent long enough in this charred skeleton of a town.
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