A/N: Oh, wow people! Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! I had more reviews than ever before on the last chapter! It really makes my day that people like my story!

Oookay, so you know how there was that chapter back o---- that a way that didn't have any lovely Light/Lawli flashbacks? Heh, well here's a chapter that's completely flashback, so no italics here! It would be kinda pointless.

The Art of Drowning

This Is How I Feel

Light was feeling bored.

Actually, he was utterly, maddeningly bored. He looked at his watch. Ugh. It had only been an hour since Lawli left! Just one bloody hour! He shouldn't be bored to distraction after just one hour!

". . . to page 134, and take a look at problem number 12. Since I just explained how to work this kind of problem, I want you all to take a few minutes and try it on your own. Don't worry if you get stuck, I did just introduce this after all . . . ."

He looked at his watch again. Had it really only been thirty seconds since the last time he looked?! This class was killing him, and it was only his first class of the day! He had at least another ten hours before Lawli would get back tonight. It was always so boring without him! Light didn't really have a problem with the other kids in the orphanage, but he didn't particularly like them, and with his best and only friend away, Light was beyond bored. It irritated him to be so bored, so now he was bored and irritated.

He huffed, twirling a yellow pencil between his fingers as he glared at his desk.

"Light!"

He couldn't stop himself from starting at the sudden interruption of his thoughts.

"Erm, yes Mr. Scott?" he tried.

"Did you get the answer for number twelve?" asked the math teacher.

"Oh, uh, what page was that again?" asked Light, wincing a little. He didn't mean to space out in the middle of class, after all. It was embarrassing to be caught.

"134," supplied Mr. Scott patiently.

Light flipped to the correct page. He read through question, his mind calculating the answer quickly.

"2.43," answered Light, looking up at his teacher.

Mr. Scott gave him an incredulous look. He obviously hadn't thought that Light could come up with the correct answer after only looking at the problem for little more than a few seconds.

"Is the answer written in the book, Light?" demanded Mr. Scott suspiciously.

"No, sir," answered Light. He tried not to glare. He wasn't a cheater.

Mr. Scott came over to his desk to scrutinize his old, raggedy text book. Granted, there was all sorts of things written and doodled on the pages from previous owners, but nothing on that page was the answer to number twelve. Mr. Scott seemed to come to the same conclusion, humming a little under his breath.

"What about number 13, Light?" he asked, gazing at Light with curiosity.

Light glanced at the next problem. "9.68."

Mr. Scott made a strangled noise of excitement. "How about this one?" he asked, pointing at question twenty-two.

Light stifled a sigh, but obliged all the same. "53.82"

"Well someone's been studying ahead!" complimented the math teacher while giving Light an enthusiastic pat on the shoulder.

Light tried to smile, really, he did, but it came out as more of a grimace than anything. Thankfully, Mr. Scott turned back to his lesson, but not before giving Light an unreadable look.

Light frowned a little at the strange look the math teacher had given him. It put him on edge, but he shook it off. He had more important things to think about, like boredom.

He was so bored.

Light was feeling lonely.

There was a storm raging outside.

Light winced as another roll of thunder shook the window pane. Mrs. Wallace had said it was the worst storm this part of England had seen in decades. Unfortunately for Light, the people who had gone on the field trip had to stay the night in London. It was too dangerous for the bus to make it back to the orphanage in this kind of weather.

This left Light in a very uncomfortable situation. For as long as he could remember, he had never slept alone. Of course, he shared a dorm room with seven other boys, so he wasn't exactly alone. Only three of the eight who shared their room were gone on the field trip - including Lawli - and that left Light with four other people in the room with him now. But Lawli wasn't one of them, and Light never slept without Lawli. He couldn't sleep without Lawli.

He glanced forlornly at Lawli's side of the bed. It didn't feel right without him here.

A flash of lightning briefly lit the room followed directly with a boom of thunder. He was surprised that the other boys could sleep with all the racket. Light hugged a pillow to his chest. It smelled a bit like Lawli, and that comforted him. He was scared of thunderstorms, but Lawli had always been there to keep him safe.

And now he wasn't.

Light was almost, almost mad at himself for acting like such a big baby, but when another round of thunder shook the window pane violently, he gave up on such fruitless endeavors. He was terrified, and Lawli wasn't there, so he clutched the pillow tighter, burying his face into it and breathing in deeply.

He didn't get much sleep that night.

Light was feeling tired.

He trudged down the stairs to the dining hall for breakfast the next morning. He decided that the sun was too bright when a particularly vicious ray of sunshine attacked his unsuspecting eyes from an open window. The storm had passed and left a wet and beautiful morning behind it. This just served to irritate Light, who had noticeable bags under his eyes. He couldn't even begin to guess how much sleep he had gotten last night. It wasn't much, that was for sure.

He threw himself down in his normal chair at the table that was just a little ways away from everyone else. He glared at the chair opposite him. If Lawli was here, he'd make him get Light some porridge because Light had decided that it was completely Lawli's fault that he hadn't gotten any sleep last night. Stupid Lawli.

Light wished he would show up already.

Light was feeling mad.

No, he was feeling furious! He was once again sitting in his math class, bored to tears, and without Lawli to keep him entertained, what was there to do? Pay attention? Pshh. Where was Lawli anyways? Why hadn't the bus arrived yet?

Mr. Scott kept shooting him strange looks throughout the class once again, but Light ignored him.

He was too busy being mad at Lawli.

Light was feeling worried.

It was lunch time, and Lawli wasn't back. He should have been back by now! Why wasn't he here yet?

He peeked his head into the dining hall, his eyes immediately zeroing in on their table. No, Lawli wasn't there. He glanced towards the lunch line. No, not there either. He went and checked the dorm room, then the bathroom, then the other bathroom, then the girl's bathroom (it had happened, one time), then the playroom, then common room, then the classroom that him and Lawli shared (they had history after lunch), and then he rechecked the dining hall just in case Lawli had shown up.

No Lawli.

Well, Light was comforted by the fact that he hadn't seen any of the other twelve year olds who had gone on the trip either. Guess that meant that the bus was late. Really, really late.

Maybe he should just go sit in the classroom. The bus would get here soon, and Lawli would meet up with him in history.

Yes, that sounded about right.

Light was feeling scared.

But as scared as he really was, he didn't want to admit it to himself, because if he admitted to being scared, then he'd have to acknowledge the reasons and doubts plaguing his mind that caused him to be scared. If he did that, he'd probably only get more scared.

So he told himself he wasn't scared, just nervous.

The bus had returned, and the ten kids that had gotten to go on the trip were back.

Except for one.

He had asked around. Hell, he had even threatened to punch one kid into next week, but no one would tell him where Lawli was. Everyone would just get wide eyed and closed mouth around him if he asked. Then they'd leave, shooting him looks the whole time they were speed walking away from him.

So this lead Light to visit Mrs. Wallace. She'd know what was going on, and hopefully she wouldn't try to run away from him for some reason.

Her office was on the first floor, just a hallway away from where the classrooms were. She always kept her door open, and when Lawli and he would drop by to visit her, she'd always have peppermints in her drawer for them. But he noticed immediately that something had to be wrong.

The door was closed.

The door was never closed.

Why was the door closed?!

Just as he was about to knock against the heavy oak door, it swung open to reveal the tear-stained face of Mrs. Wallace and two policemen. The policemen tipped there hats to him, before quietly informing Mrs. Wallace that they'd be in touch and then left the office.

"Mrs. Wallace? Is everything okay?" asked Light. Why was she crying?

"O-Oh, Light! Aren't you supposed to be at dinner?" asked Mrs. Wallace as she hastily wiped her eyes with a handkerchief.

"Well, yes, but I was wondering if you knew where Lawli was, because I can't find him anywhere, and as far as I know he didn't come back with everybody else. And nobody will tell me anything!" exclaimed Light, frustration lacing his words.

Mrs. Wallace gave a small sob, which she quickly smothered with her handkerchief, and refused to look at Light.

Light felt the bottom fall out of his stomach.

Light was feeling numb.

He was lying on his back in an empty bed, staring at the ceiling. It was . . . weird. He had never known anyone personally who had gone missing before. Sure, he had seen plenty of stuff about that sort of thing on the telly, but he had never thought it could happen him or anyone he loved.

Lawli was missing, had been missing since an hour into the museum tour. That means he had been missing for twenty-four hours, more than twenty-four hours now. He was a missing persons. Lawli was missing.

Mrs. Wallace had told him that the police would find Lawli, that everything was going to be okay, but Light didn't believe her. How could everything be okay? Lawli was missing, his best friend was missing.

And Light didn't know how to feel.

So he was numb.

Light felt as if he were drowning.

The police had found a body. Fished from the river Thames, the body had been identified as twelve year old L Lawliet, an orphan who had disappeared from a field trip to the British museum a little over a week ago. The police had called Mrs. Wallace herself in for the identification.

There were no clues as to how the boy had ended up in the Thames river, but it looked as if he had suffered before his death, if the bruised skin was anything to go by, but the final cause of death was ruled as drowning, and there was no suspects or witnesses or even bloody clues as to how it all happened.

And Light was drowning.

Just like Lawli.

On the day that he had found out, Light had stayed in bed and under the covers. He didn't want the other boys to see his tears. He didn't want any consolation or empty words. He just wanted to be left alone. He sobbed into his pillow, and when his pillow had gotten too wet, he had used Lawli's pillow, which had just made him cry harder, because it still faintly smelled like Lawli.

But Lawli was dead.

And soon his scent would die too, and then Light would never be able to smell him again. It was silly, but Light wished the pillow would smell like him always. That way, he could hug it anytime he felt like he was drowning and pretend.

Light felt dead.

As dead as Lawli.

It had been one week since the small funeral held for his best friend, and Mrs. Wallace had suggested that it was time to clean out Lawli's stuff. Of course, Light refused for anyone else but him to do it. Lawli had been his best friend, after all, and it was only right that he should do it.

It was much harder than he thought it would be.

There was a small bedside table with two drawers that Light and Lawli had shared. Light was currently cleaning out Lawli's draw. He smiled bitterly as he pulled out old candy wrappers and a dirty fork that still had cake on it.

He paused, however, when he ran across an opened letter shoved into a sock that was practically brand new, because Lawli had never liked socks. It wouldn't really matter if Light read it, would it? Lawli was dead. He wasn't there to care if Light did or not.

As it turned out, the letter had been a compilation of test scores. When the orphans in their orphanage turned twelve, they were all tested to see where they stood education wise. Part of the test included an IQ test. Light had always wondered what his was. After all, he knew that him and Lawli were smart, but just not how smart.

He pulled open the results for Lawli's IQ test and stared. That was . . . unbelievable. Amazing. Why hadn't Lawli showed him? The letter was post marked almost a month ago! How could his friend have kept something like this from him?

Light dropped the letter back into the drawer, and then got on his knees. He reached blindly under his bed until his hand hit a large, flat bin. He pulled it out, shuffling through the books that the bin contained until he found what he was looking for.

The Guinness Book of World Records.

He flipped through the pages, stopping at the bit about the man with the largest recorded IQ. Kim Ung-yong. Born 1962 in Korea. IQ score - 210.

Light stared. He picked up the letter again, his eyes narrowing on Lawli's test results.

IQ score - 214.

He shoved the bin back under his bed, along with the book. He angrily ripped the letter apart, and he was suddenly thankful that he had been given the day off school to clean up Lawli's things and that everyone was in class, because he didn't want anyone to see the tears streaking down his face nor hear the screaming sobs escape his lips.

That stupid bloody idiot! Why hadn't Lawli told him?! Had he been ashamed or something? Light didn't care if Lawli had a record breaking IQ! Well, he admitted to himself that he might have been a bit jealous since a good part of their relationship was based on their friendly rivalry, but he would have been happy for his friend either way! He wanted to punch Lawli in the face for keeping something like that a secret. It hurt to think that Lawli hadn't trusted him, and if he was here right now . . .

But Lawli wasn't here.

Because Lawli was dead.

And with this sudden realization, Light was drowning again, just like Lawli, but instead of drowning in a dirty river, Light was drowning in the mess that Lawli had left behind.

And it hurt. Light wondered if what he felt could compare to how Lawli felt before he died. The police had said that Lawli had suffered, but at least the pain had ended. Light didn't think his would ever end.

Light didn't know how he felt.

He didn't know, because he honestly had trouble feeling much of anything these days, except an overwhelming urge to punish whoever was responsible for the death of his best friend.

It had been two months since Lawli had been found, and the police had given up on Lawli's case. After all, Lawli had just been some orphan. What good was an orphan? An orphan didn't even have a family, after all, so there wasn't any big push for the police to find out what happened, and so the case had been dropped.

But Lawli did have a family. Light had been Lawli's family, and Light wanted to see Lawli's murderers brought to justice, no matter what.

Light was feeling frustrated.

It had been four months since Lawli had been found, and for the past two months, Light had been conducting his own investigation. Light made good use of the three computers available in the common room for the orphans, and he had gotten particularly efficient at sneaking out of his dorm room at night to use the computers. Light discovered that he had a natural talent for hacking, so it had been a cakewalk for him to hack into the police files.

He had scoured all of the files concerning his best friend, but he couldn't take more than a brief glance at the pictures. He hadn't been expecting it the first time. He had just been browsing through, looking for clues that the police might have missed, and a picture had popped up when he had clicked on the next file. He had stared in horror at the bloated body, wearing a white shirt even, for all of a second before violently throwing up into the waste bin luckily stationed next to the computer desk.

Now, he avoided those pictures all together if he could help it.

Light was feeling angry.

It was better than being sad. He hated being sad. He had been sad for the past six months. It just wasn't worth it anymore, so Light concentrated on being angry. He was angry that his best friend was dead. He was angry that the police had given up. He was angry that he himself had given up, because there just wasn't anything there for him to go on. The murderers had gotten away with killing Lawli, and Light was furious about it.

It didn't help that Mr. Scott had been bugging him a lot lately. He hadn't really noticed much of anything since Lawli had died, but Mr. Scott was the exception. Mr. Scott was annoying.

If the math teacher wasn't grilling him on complicated calculus problems that no one else in the class had to suffer through, then he was bugging Mrs. Wallace about having Light sit in early with the twelve year olds on their tests in the coming month, and then encouraging Light to agree.

Honestly, Light couldn't care less why Mr. Scott was so eager to see him take some stupid tests. He didn't care to know where he stood academically, or even what his IQ score was.

Light was finding that he didn't really care about a lot of things anymore.

Light was feeling anxious.

The news had spread throughout the orphanage like wildfire, and even though Light kept to himself and didn't talk to anyone anymore, it wasn't hard to hear the news.

There was a couple from Japan visiting. Apparently the story was that the woman couldn't bare anymore children, and they were in the market for a son. Why they were even looking at adopting children from overseas, Light didn't know, and frankly, he couldn't really bother himself to care.

Of course, when he heard from one of his dorm mates that the man was some big wig in the Japanese police force, his interest was grabbed. Someone with that kind of position in the police force of Tokyo had to be good at what he does. Maybe he could help Light track down Lawli's murderers.

It wouldn't hurt to ask.

Light was feeling hopeful.

Soichiro and Sachiko Yagami were nice people. They had visited the toddlers, the younger kids, and then finally had gotten around to seeing kids of Light's age group.

When the Yagami's had introduced themselves, Light had immediately spear headed the conversation, grilling the older man about his job, saying that it was his life's ambition to become a detective.

The Yagami's, on their part, were enamored with the polite, well spoken boy who was so curious about Mr. Yagami's job. It was obvious that the boy was intelligent. No ten year old could hold the level of conversation that Light was holding with the two adults for such a long time.

So the Yagami's had talked it over with Mrs. Wallace, and she agreed to let Light go to dinner with the Yagami's to get to know one another better. This was usually frowned upon, but it was obvious that Mrs. Wallace just wanted Light to be happy again. He hadn't been happy for so long, so she was bending the rules just for him.

The Yagami's took Light out to a nice dinner. Light helped them order as they weren't too well acquainted with English cuisine, and Light was surprised to find himself having a good time. For the first time in almost seven months, Lawli slipped quietly away from Light's thoughts, and Light didn't mention anything about an impromptu investigation to the Yagami's.

And the thought of asking for help fled his mind completely as the taxi carrying the Yagami's and Light stopped a few hundred yards away from his orphanage.

It was on fire.

Light was feeling sick.

It was the first time he had ever been on a plane before, and seeing the ground lift so suddenly had caused his gut to wrench.

"It's alright dear. Those little bags in front of you are there for a reason. If you feel queasy, just grab one," said Sachiko, patting his arm in a loving manner.

"Thank you, Mrs. Yagami," he replied shyly.

She laughed. "You are my son now, Light. You don't have to call me Mrs. Yagami. If you want to, you can call me 'Mom.' Of if you feel uncomfortable with that, then Sachiko is fine."

Light smiled. He hadn't ever had a mom before, let alone a dad or a sister that was waiting for them back in Japan.

"Sure thing, Mom," he whispered hesitantly. This made Sachiko beam with pride, and Soichiro ruffled Light's hair, before putting a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Are you sure you're alright, Light?" asked Soichiro.

Light nodded. "It's . . . hard. I mean, the fact that everyone is dead is almost unbelievable. I know that some people escaped, but no one that I knew personally. Everyone I knew died in the fire. I still don't think I can wrap my mind around it. So I guess it hasn't hit yet, but I think I'm okay for now."

"If you need to talk about it, then your mother and I are here for you," he said.

Light smiled and nodded before turning his gaze back out the window. Now that they were above the clouds, it wasn't so bad. He sighed, his thoughts turning back to the night that had changed everything.

The orphanage had caught on fire. Faulty wiring, it was said. After all, the orphanage had once been a sanitarium. It was old, crumbling in some places, and the government didn't regulate enough funds to go to the updating of orphanages, so it wasn't any wonder that the building had caught fire so easily and quickly.

And everyone Light had ever known died in the flames. Granted, there were quite a few survivors, but no one that Light had ever really spoke to. Mrs. Wallace was dead. Hell, even bloody Walter was dead.

It hadn't been that hard for the Yagami's to pick out a son after that. They assured Light that they didn't want to adopt him only because of the fire. They had taken a liking to him since their first meeting, and Light had agreed to go to Japan with the couple as their son. It wasn't that hard of a decision for him either. Anything to escape the memories of England, where only death and destruction seemed to lie, was good by him.

He gazed out at the clouds once more, letting his mind drift.

Was Lawli out there? Heaven had lots of fluffy clouds, didn't it? Or that was what he heard, at least. So maybe Lawli was out there right now, sitting on a cloud, possibly eating a large slice of cheesecake. There would be cheesecake in Lawli's heaven.

Light almost wanted to jump out the plane then. Maybe he would land on a cloud, and then maybe Lawli would be there, trying to kick him in the head, or wheedle sweets out of him, or glaring at him when he broke the tie, or laughing at his attempts at pranking Walter, or . . . maybe Lawli would just hug him. Light really missed those hugs. They always made him feel better. Yes, Light needed to jump out of the plane, land on a cloud, and get a hug from Lawli.

Maybe then, he could finally catch his breath, because he still felt like he was drowning.

EDITED: 7-3-09

A/N: Wow. Damn. That actually took alot out of me. Ugh. I need to go read a good crack fic to make me feel better, lol.

Don't worry, next chapter will feature Light and a very alive Lawli (ohthanxgawd!).

SAY SOMETHING!