Author's Note: Okay, first of all I want to acknowledge the inconsistencies and shoddy storytelling of the previous chapter. It was a bit of a rushed effort, and I do have every intention of revising it. The only problem is, when I sat down this evening to do just that, I drew a blank and wound up working on the next chapter instead. I know it is unwise to try to build off of a faulty foundation and I'm sorry. Therefore, I reach out to you, my kind readers, for help. Seriously, if you have any suggestions, me please send me a PM or something. Things are starting to get a bit stressful in my life right now because of work and the beginning of the semester, and I would hate to see this story take a nosedive because of my own laziness or incompetence. As a matter of fact, I may put continuation on hold until I can get what I've already written in order. So please, your input is more important now than ever. I don't mean to sound needy, I just don't want this to turn to crap. Thank you for your understanding, and thank you for reading this annoyingly long author's note.
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story.
"I'm worried, L," Roger said, sullenly sipping a cup of tea and turning his attention to the laptop before him. "B has not been acting himself lately."
"What makes you say that?"
"He injured another student. Not only that, but his reasons were irrational at best."
"What were his reasons?"
"He said he was protecting those notes you had us give him."
L's scrambled voice made a garbled sigh of acknowledgment.
"What do you recommend we do? He hasn't acted so unreasonably since his youth."
"You said he hasn't been acting himself, but maybe you are mistaken."
L paused and Roger could just imagine him lifting his thumb to his mouth in that common, pensive gesture of his.
"I knew it…" the prodigy muttered.
"Knew what?"
"We've been being played for quite some time now. The positive changes in B were nothing more than an illusion. He's worse than ever."
"But how could someone fake that kind of progress?"
Roger didn't want to hear what L was saying. B's achievements and somewhat pleasant manner were what allowed him to believe things were better at Wammy's. They allowed him to feel decent about what he was doing.
"You saw his scores. He's a very intelligent person, Roger. He obviously believed he had something to gain from becoming me."
It was in that moment that everything clicked in Roger's head. L was right. B hadn't been paying subtle homage to the detective like the other students did. He was literally trying to be L.
"That's why the papers bothered him so much…"
"Yes. Now the question is why he would go to such lengths. And when he will realize his folly…"
"How long have you known this was going on, L?"
"I've had my suspicions for almost a year and a half now. Why?"
Roger's heart sank at L's response.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't have enough evidence yet. I wouldn't want to worry you for nothing."
Evidence? Was this all just another case to L? Had Roger been wrong to assume the detective had actually begun to care?
"Why did you keep acting like you were going to choose him?"
"It was the easiest way to find out what I wanted to know. Now that I have confirmation, we can move on to our next option. It's a shame it had to work out this way, though. He was genuinely impressive. I would have liked to see him succeed."
"So that's it?"
"Hmm?"
"You're just giving up on him?"
"No, of course not. We will get him the help he needs. He's just no longer up for my title."
"Which is as good as saying you've given up on him. You know, I really thought you were different, L. I thought you had grown up and developed some sense of morality, but you're still out to serve yourself. B's not the one that had me tricked. You are."
"Roger… Regardless of how you feel, we do have a genuine situation on our hands. It won't be long before B, for lack of a better word, snaps."
"And you're okay with that? It's just another event to mark off on your calendar?"
"I never said that. I'm worried about the other residents. B is unpredictable, and if he has already displayed a tendency to harm others, it might be dangerous to let him stay around them at the moment."
"What are we going to do? Lock him in his room like a prisoner?"
"Sometimes simplicity is best…"
"I can't believe this! Where's Watari? I need to speak with him immediately."
Roger knew it was hoping for too much to assume his 'friend' would take a more rational view on the matter, but he had to try.
There was a faint scuffling sound and some brief static before another scrambled voice made its way from the computer speakers.
"Hello?"
"Watari. Are you aware of what's going on?"
"Yes, and I support L's theory."
"Of course you do."
Roger hoped the cynicism in his voice translated accurately through the computer.
"You can't let your precious assets get hurt while they still hold potential, can you?"
Watari sighed.
"Well, what would you suggest, Roger? Let B run amuck?"
Roger faltered.
"How do you know it's going to be as bad as you think? This is B we're talking about. Not some monster."
"You have a lot of nerve, Roger. Criticizing me for supporting L, and saying that I'm endangering others for his benefit, when you're doing the exact same thing. B is a hazard. Would you really expose the other students to a hazard just to make things easier for him?"
Roger held back fury so strong that it burned his throat. There was absolutely no way to compare this to what Wammy had done in opening the orphanage! Right?
Watari took on a calmer tone.
"You're lying to yourself if you think you don't value those close to you over others, Roger. Maybe now you'll realize that… But something must be done. We've given our suggestions. It's up to you to make the right decision."
The laptop screen went blank and Roger reached for his tea once more to find that it had gone as cold and tasteless as melted snow.
-------------------------------------------
Beyond Birthday sat cross-legged on the floor of his room with pieces of the wall heater spread out before him like broken toys.
It had been so difficult to take apart. All those wires and metal pieces. They had fit together so well…
Not anymore. No, no, no.
Now some of them were bent and snapped.
Some of them had left dents in the wall.
And some of them were on the ground outside his window.
He picked up one of the hollow internal parts and looked through it before throwing it violently against his closet door. It bounced off with a hollow clang and Beyond could not help but laugh.
So, which part of him was that?
It didn't matter.
He looked at L's papers, which were strewn across his desk, and managed a facial expression that was half-grin, half-scowl.
He got up, grabbed the papers with a flourish, and carried them to the disassembled hole in the wall where the heater had been. There were still some pieces sticking out at awkward angles and producing uninhibited heat.
The dial was lost. There was no longer a way to regulate the temperature.
Beyond crumpled one of the papers into a ball and held it to the overheating machinery.
Without a sound, the paper caught fire, creating an orange glow that reflected in Beyond's eyes.
He laughed again.
What was the matter? Paper with intelligent words could not fix a broken heater?
Beyond grabbed a handful of screws and bolts and tossed them into the blaze erupting from the appliance.
No good either. Perhaps more paper.
He repeated this pattern of tossing alternating objects into the inferno until the demented symbolism it held for him began to wear off and the blaze began to spread.
He guessed it was time to tell somebody about the fire.
-------------------------
Roger lifted his hand to knock on B's door, wanting to speak to the boy once more before making his decision, but before his knuckles could meet the wooden surface, the door swung open.
B stood in the doorway, silhouetted by a dangerous, orange glow, and smiled.
"I think my heater's broken, Roger."
Author's Note: Thank you very much for reading, and please keep in mind what I said in the beginning author's note. Have a great night and a pleasant tomorrow.