A/N: Hello everyone! Here's the second chapter of my third Death Note fic. This is the first multi-chaptered one, so hurray for me. This'll probably only have one more chapter, and it most likely will come within the next week, so check back soon.

Song of the Chapter: One-X, by Three Days Grace

I don't really have much to say for once (I must be getting sick or something :/), so let the chappie roll!

BB's POV

When I approached my best friend's door, it was tightly shut yet not locked. Since both of my hands happened to be full, I resorted to knocking on the door with my elbows and yelling to get her attention.

"A, can you open up the door? I brought you lunch." The only response I got was a seemingly stifled whimper. It sounded sort of like she was crying. . .Wait, why would she be crying?

"Are you okay?" I said in a softer voice. Her response came in a near whisper.

"S-sort of. . ." A's answer made my already present frown deepen. If she wasn't going to give me a straight answer, then I would just go in.

"I'm coming in." After my warning, I grabbed the rusting handle and walked in, only to find that she wasn't anywhere in sight. After setting the two trays on a table near her bed I asked, "Where are you?"

Her muffled voice squeaked from behind the bathroom door, "I'm not hungry, so please go away." Okay, this was only getting weirder. First she won't give me a direct answer, now she's in her bathroom, and she doesn't sound too well. When I say she doesn't sound well, I don't mean in a physically sick sense. Could she be sad for some reason?

Growing even more suspicious, I asked her, "A, what are you doing in there?"

A's response came a bit too soon, "N-nothing!" and that was what drove me to the edge. This girl is going to let me in now. I reached forward and grabbed the golden paint-chipped door knob and began to turn it. Not even a second later, I heard a startled shriek from the inside, and A slammed her hand on the door's knob from the other side, preventing me from opening the passage.

"I told you to leave!" The girl said it with more force than before, but it was still far from a shout. She sounded quite nervous, even afraid of whatever was going on.

"I'll only leave if you tell me what's going on here!" I shouted, my voice beginning to sound more angry than curious of what she was doing. After I yelled, I could hear a scared whimper from behind the wooden barrier. Sometimes I wish that these cherry red eyes of mine could see more than just the names of others. If I had x-ray vision, that'd be perfect about now. . .

The force on the other side of the door handle began to loosen. Either she was getting tired, or was giving up. That aside, it meant I could tear down this wall between us at the moment. I finally was able to reach her.

After pulling open the door, I saw a distressed A standing right in front of me. She wore a black hooded sweatshirt with sleeves so long they barely revealed her fingertips. On her legs were grey sweatpants. Her appearance, however, wasn't what caught my eye. In the pristine white sink lay a blue razor, surrounded by blotches of cherry red liquid. I turned to A with wide eyes.

She started, "I. . ." but didn't bother to finish her excuse. Her eyes darted around the bathroom nervously

I tried to keep my voice calm and quiet, but it came out a bit hoarse, "Where did you cut yourself?"

A bit her lip, and whispered softly, "M-my arm." She slightly moved her left arm to indicate which arm she meant. Without giving any notice, I softly grabbed her left arm and pulled up the black sleeve. On her pale skin were straight strawberry gashes, each not too far from the one it was next to. It was plainly obvious that she had done this to herself on purpose.

Trying to suppress all anger in my voice, I whispered to A, "Sit down on the toilet while I grab the first aid kit." Thank the heavens that every room had a personal first aid kit stored beneath the sink in the cupboard. I pull out the white container, and grabbed few bandages as well as some cotton balls and disinfecting wipes.

Before cleaning her wounds, I asked her, "Why did you do this to yourself?"

Tears continued to slip out from her eyes as she answered, "It's the pressure of being perfect. I j-just can't take it!" A looked me as she whimpered in sadness.

Her words continued to puzzle me, "The pressure of what? What kind of pressure has driven you to something like this?" Anger was beginning to seep into my words.

"It's the pressure of being L's primary successor! I don't think that I want to be L anymore. . ." This girl beyond the realm of genius doesn't want to take over L's job? That's all that has been troubling her? Surely there must be something Roger or Watari can do if A doesn't want to be L.

"A, you probably don't have to become L if you don't want to. You could always tell Roger or Watari, and I'm sure they wouldn't force you." I tried to sound reassuring, but I wasn't too sure if that sort of thing was allowed. For the top candidate for L to not even want to take over his job . . . that was something certainly out of the ordinary.

The fragile girl shook her head slowly, "No way. I'm not going to burden them by making them pick another candidate. If I'm first in line, then I'm best suited for the job. I can't just refuse succeeding L like that." I sighed and gripped a disinfectant wipe in my hand.

I told A, "There's no need to get so worked up about it right now. You most likely still have years ahead of you before you have to take over L's job. For now, let's just focus on getting your wounds fixed up." She nodded slowly, and held out her arm a bit farther so I could clean it.

A's POV

Beyond ripped on the tab for the wipe, and pulled it out. In a low voice, he said, "This might sting a little, but definitely not as much as. . .what you did to yourself." I lowered my head, letting soft brown bangs cover my watery eyes in shame. BB must've been so upset with what I'd done.

I didn't expect the cold sting of the wipe, since I wasn't looking. I didn't even shrink away in pain. After what I'd done with my razor, it was nothing in comparison. The burning sensation even comforted me a bit. My best friend dragged the tiny white cloth further down my arm, earning him a shiver on my part. After he was finished with the wipes, he wrapped white bandages around the injured area of my arm

Hesitantly, I asked him, "Are y-you going to tell Roger?" He scowled deeply, and turned his head away from me. 'No, please don't turn away from me, Beyond. I want to see you beautiful face. . .' I thought to myself.

He said in a near whisper, "I don't know. You obviously need help with this little . . . problem, but I don't think the best solution for you is to be shipped off to a mental hospital and permanently kicked out of the running for L's job." I winced a bit at his statement. Regardless of what I thought to myself, I knew deep down that my best friend was completely right. It's not like Roger felt any deep connection with us, so why wouldn't he do something like that to me?

I gripped his hands within my own and begged him, "Please don't tell Roger! I'll do anything!" The jet-haired boy's face burned bright red, probably from my method of physical contact. I didn't really care at the moment; I just didn't want to get shipped off to an insane asylum.

He sighed and said, "Fine, I won't tell Roger. But I have one condition you must uphold."

I narrowed my eyes at him. He better not be making too steep of a condition, "And you condition would be. . ."

"Give me your razor." I gaped at him. He was taking away my razor? How was I supposed to shave?

I complained, "How am I supposed to shave, then?"

The red eyed maniac frowned and said, "I'll let you shave under my supervision, but that's it." I guess that isn't bad a condition; I mean the boy had just discovered my cutting habit. I'm surprised he hasn't completely freaked out on me.

I nod and tell him, "Fine."

The boy bit his lip and then said, "I have one more question. Can you please answer me honestly?" I nod, and he continues, "Are you suicidal?"

And all I could do was gulp, and tell him the complete and utter truth. . .

A/N: Ugh, I feel like this chapter was too short, yet I'm glad I made it a cliffy. Oh well, I'll make it up to you all with some detailed gore and some major drama/tragedy in the next chapter.

I don't know why, but I've listening to a lot of Hatsune Miku stuff while writing fanfiction. Isn't that a little bit odd, considering most of her stuff is fairly upbeat (and this story is so not upbeat)? Ah, whatever. :P

Oh, and just to let you know; I might extend this story to four chapters, just because I think things might be moving sort of quickly, but I'm not really sure. Nothing past four chapters though, 'kay? :)

Review please! I love my reviewers! :P