Mrs. Lawliet: Ahh, smoke bombs are fun, but I think Matt's more excited about the chloroform~
You wish BB to cry? Ahh, be careful, it may just happen at one point... I would have loved to have made him cry in that scene. Unfortunately, I did not. *sigh* Mm, it's good that you punish Near; yes. He deserves it for having caused the death of a nine-year-old.

Again, thank you guys for all the reviews. ;w;

Enjoy the extra chapter~

Being torn in half got easier to handle after awhile. Beyond couldn't sleep the rest of the night – morning, really – that Sophia had died, but after lying exactly two hours thirty-seven minutes and forty-nine seconds in his bed, staring at the ceiling, he decided to just get up. What was the point in sleeping anyhow? It was only rest, replenishing the body. L rarely slept. B didn't necessarily need it either.

He got up at 5:44 am that morning. It was only sixteen minutes off of his usual time of awakening, at six. Though, he had been lying there wasting time for the past couple hours. After all that time, he decided to just sit up, and he did so. His eyes were open, they hadn't closed but to blink the whole rest of the night. He wasn't sure why he hadn't realized it was futile to try to sleep earlier. Though just lying there and doing nothing at all was rather nice, now that he thought about it.

It was Friday. Saki Ijiri would be found this morning. He vaguely wondered how the search was going. How many pieces of her had they found…? He turned his head to look over to the bed nearby. Sophia was still lying peacefully there, curled up beneath the covers. He blinked slowly, then swung his legs over the side of the bed mechanically, standing up without expression. He headed to the kitchen, passing the table he and Sophia had sat at last night to reach the fridge. His hand grasped at the handle of the fridge door, and he opened it. He grabbed a jar of jam from inside.

Beyond stood there for a moment or two, the fridge open before him and the jam in his hand. Jam…. His eyes shifted to the empty jam jar by the sink that Sophia had placed there. The jam L had given them. What had killed Sophia, anyhow? Beyond forgot he had jam in his hand. The jar slipped and shattered on the ground. He looked down at it blankly. It took a moment. "…Oops." He closed the fridge, grabbed a washcloth and broom, and swept up the mess before wiping the floor.

Once this was finished, he sat upon his chair at the table and thought. Would L kill Sophia? No…. The jam had been meant for him. Would L kill him? It didn't seem right. But was it the jam L had given B that had killed Sophia? Was it poisoned? Why would L do that? Was B really bothering L that badly? It wasn't good to assume such things. B had to work hard through it all, and….

What had that headache been last night? Beyond never had headaches, and neither did Sophia. Could that have been an effect of poison?

Oh, Beyond hadn't had breakfast yet….

He stood again; headed to the fridge. Grabbed some jam, sat back down, and ate slowly. It tasted nice. Familiar.

Right.

The poison.

Was that what had killed her? Why hadn't Beyond died with her? He licked some jam off his finger and closed his eyes. Poison. A loophole, he supposed. But was different between being poisoned and being killed in any other way…? Poison, drugs? Drugs, sedatives. Sedatives. When one was sedated, the other wasn't. Was that it? Perhaps….

Hm.

Now, if L had left that jar of jam, and that jar of jam had been poisoned, then L had poisoned that jar of jam with the intent to kill B. That still didn't quite make sense. But if that was true… then L had killed Sophia. Someone had killed Sophia. Who? He needed to figure that out. He needed to figure out who had ripped him in half. It wasn't a very pleasant feeling.

Beyond didn't do much the next few hours. He just sat in that chair, thinking, his eyes vacant. His mind would flip from one subject to another, until at last he stood. It was noon. The jar of jam went beside the sink, though Beyond made sure he set the possibly-poisoned jar aside. Then he made his way to Sophia's bed. He gazed at her for a moment before slowly pulling away the sheets. She was cold, he noticed, but of course she was. He turned her over so she was lying on her back. Touching her gave B a vague, fleeting notion of being at peace. Perhaps it was because of this that his hands lingered at the nine-year-old's shoulders. But of course he would pull away, and he would finish what he was doing.

He gently loosened Sophia's grip on her special blanket, then laid it out overtop her. Like he was at a wake without a coffin. And then, he was the only visitor…. He lingered again for a moment, then headed to the back of their underground hideaway to grab a shovel. Tool in hand, he emerged aboveground to begin digging. Making sure he wasn't directly above the hideout, he stuck the metal into the ground. And he dug, shovelful by shovelful of dirt. The earth was already upturned, and thus easier to dig up. Clouds seemed to be coming in from the northwest, slowly but surely. The ground was dry. Perhaps it would rain, but then Sophia's grave would be nothing but mud….

Beyond blinked, pausing in his digging. He couldn't just bury her in mud. Both she and her beloved blanket would get dirty. Perhaps he could find some sort of makeshift coffin…. Yes. He'd find a coffin. The cheapest one in the undertaker's possession. Leaving the shovel behind, he headed into the city. He patted his pocket; he had some money. Don't ask him how he got it, because he isn't going to answer.

Now where was the nearest mortician's shop? Yes, it was actually nearby. Only a mile….

Beyond paid no attention to the names and numbers and faces that passed him by on the sidewalks today. He only made his way to where he needed to be. It wouldn't take that long. A man accidentally brushed against B, muttering an, "Excuse me," out of habit in apology. B barely processed it. He eventually reached his destination, crossing through a relatively small parking lot before reaching a mahogany door. It opened without a creak.

He didn't hesitate to go to the desk where a girl with cropped brown hair sat, typing away at a computer. Her name was Nana Tsukuda, she was only eighteen, and she had around three years left to live. Poor her. B felt no sympathy. "I'd like a coffin," he said bluntly.

"Would you also like a funeral planned?" she replied, not looking up. She injected sympathy into her tone, but her body language was too perky. "A wake?"

"Just a coffin," he told her without much inflection. "For a child."

The girl looked up. At first her eyes had this fake sympathy coming from a girl who knew only happiness. She couldn't grasp other's pain unless it affected her; unless it was someone in her life that was hurt. But then… perhaps it was something she saw in his eyes, B didn't know, but the sympathetic smile just melted away as real sympathy flooded into her features. Maybe she could see the whole 'half of me is gone' or the 'I feel like my soul got ripped out' thing in those grey orbs of his that were supposedly supposed to be the doorways to the soul. Whatever. It didn't matter.

"O-oh…," she said softly, stuttering slightly. Her eyes were wide.

He gazed at her dully, waiting. Goodness, it wasn't that bad. Stop freaking yourself out about it, Nana.

"I'll get who you need," she said in a low voice, then stood up. "Please follow me."

Beyond obeyed without a word. They passed through another mahogany door and into a room filled with coffins, prices set up atop them or hung on their sides. There was a tall, sharp-looking man in a suit talking to a family of three. Beyond noticed that the father was not present. He was probably the one who'd been lost. The mother seemed most grief-stricken, the two young children only seemed confused. They didn't get death yet. Beyond's mouth twitched. Ha. He'd gotten death by then.

The sharp-looking man caught Nana and B out of the corner of his eye and turned to them. He was bald and his eyes were striking, and now that Beyond could see his face he could see his name was Takumi Takenaka. He was probably the man he was looking for. Takenaka turned to the family of three and presumably told them to wait a moment as he walked over to B and Nana. Beyond could tell easily from his eyes that he understood death much better than Nana or the mother or the two children.

He greeted B with a smile. "Hello, I'm Takenaka." He bowed. B just stared blankly, not even returning the gesture. "How may I help you?"

"I need an inexpensive coffin," he said dully. "It needs to be the size fit for an average-height nine-year-old…." His voice trailed off as his gaze wandered to the window. The sun was shining so happily. Hah.

Takenaka nodded in understanding and gestured for Beyond to follow him, though the broken-Bonded man didn't even notice. "Nana, you can go back to your desk," he informed the girl. This brought B back to reality.

She nodded. "Alright…."

As Nana turned round to leave the room, Takenaka made his way over to the section in which they could find the children's coffins, Beyond following behind him. The smaller coffins and the special ones were apparently on the second floor, so of course that's where they were headed. The buying of the casket wasn't very eventful. He was offered a variety of coffins, but he picked one he could afford without stealing the thing. It turned out he was actually given a more expensive and nice one out of generosity (it seemed Takenaka saw the look in his eyes too), but Beyond didn't even notice. He was offered help in taking the coffin to where he needed it, but he just accepted a dollie and was on his way.

The sun didn't seem to be shining so happily now. The clouds were at last rolling in, making everything less bright and more dark. It wasn't dark quite yet, but it would be soon. Knowing this made B slightly more comfortable, for as always darkness was his home, and the shadows and the silence were his friends. It would be quieter than ever now, though, since the whispers of Sophia's subconscious would be gone. The quietness had never seemed so silent and unfamiliar. It was like a close friend had betrayed him. But he would mend his ties, and besides, he still had the shadows. Those couldn't leave him unless he was trapped in a world of light. And that wouldn't be happening anytime soon.

When he reached the outside of his hideaway, he set the coffin on the ground before discarding the dollie and resuming the process of digging Sophia's grave. He vaguely wondered how he would lower the coffin into the hole, but then decided that he could figure that out once he actually got to the point where he needed to do that. His thoughts wandered to Saki Ijiri and the NPA. And L. He wondered for a bit how they were doing. He thought ahead to his next kill and remembered he would have to decide who it would be. There were only two kills left, after all. He thought about how he finally knew what it was like to not know death was coming. He thought about how he would have to finish digging before those rainclouds came in. He thought about how the one he was Bonded to lie beneath the ground, cold, lifeless, and dead, dead, dead as a doornail.

Then his meandering ponderings were disrupted when his shovel hit something hard. His gaze went to the ground blankly. He blinked. The shovel was dropped as he knelt down to inspect the obstruction. His hand brushed away the dirt to reveal something light-colored. He blinked again. Used the shovel, wedging it between the object and the surrounding earth. Pushed the shovel to the side, thus loosening the object. Pulled it out to reveal a lonely skull.

He stared at it with dull eyes for a moment, blinked, then tossed it to the side before continuing his digging. It was probably a war victim. Or a murder victim he wasn't supposed to find. Oh well. As he dug, he ended up with the whole skeleton. How nice. The whole thing was discarded. He was actually almost irritated with the thing. It was in Sophia's resting place. Not only that, but it was slowing him down. But he guessed he couldn't blame it. Though, in the end, he didn't care anyway.

Beyond wasn't too sure how long he was digging, but he finished when the clouds at last blotted out the sun and the winds began to blow and the temperature began to drop. He reflected that a storm was kind of like death to the living. The light was gone, the world was cold, and of course there was the warmth that drained away from the body. Hm. Well, it was time to bury Sophia, in any case.

Beyond descended into their hideaway and went to Sophia's bed. He gazed at her peaceful face for a moment or two. Her ruby lips had turned blue. He wondered faintly what it felt like to actually die. Surely your soul wasn't trapped in your body like it had been in the In-Between. Sophia's features were too peaceful for that. He imagined that it was like letting go at last. And besides, if she had been in pain, wouldn't he feel it too, regardless of whether she was living or dead? He wondered if she felt torn in half like he did right now. He wondered, oh, he wondered. Was she wondering too? Did the Bond exist in death? He couldn't tell. He wasn't dead yet. But he would be. He'd find out then.

He scooped her up in his arms. His soul eased ever so slightly at her touch. It felt nice to hold her, even though she was cold, so cold, and lifeless as an inanimate object. He felt closer to her, somehow, and it was nice. It felt like he was in more familiar territory again. But then he reached the coffin, and he had to set her down. He almost regretted it, knowing he'd never feel her touch again; feel her little hand in his own. But he adjusted her anyway, with this knowledge, and made sure she looked comfortable. He draped her special blanket over her cold body, idly thinking that perhaps it would help keep her warm. On the inside, at least. Perhaps she could feel its warmth, wherever she was. He gripped her blue-ish, discolored hand one last time. Even though she was practically B's clone by mind, she was still only a child at heart. He felt slightly at peace for one final moment before he let go.

He closed the casket.

Beyond felt a little lonely again as he began to push the coffin towards the hole in the ground beneath the gloomy palette of grey known as the sky. He rounded the casket to make sure it didn't tip, somehow managing to lower it into the ground despite the fact he was straining his muscles and nearly getting his hand caught beneath the thing. He looked at it a moment once he was done. It was a rather shallow grave, but it would work. Funerals were only formalities anyway.

Without a word, he grabbed the shovel and began to bury the casket, with Sophia's body concealed inside. In patches the casket began to become hidden as B numbly dropped in one shovelful after another. The earth was filled again eventually and the only thing to mark Sophia's grave was the rectangle of upturned earth. Perhaps he'd create a marker just to remind him she was there. Not that he'd ever forget.

He leaned on the shovel, taking a deep breath. Well, that was done. He stared at the rectangle for awhile, fully aware that he'd never be truly at ease again. Not that it really mattered. But oh, he felt so empty. Even lonely. And he never felt lonely. And….

B was surrounded in light. He was no longer in front of Sophia's grave, he was no longer in Japan, he wasn't even on earth. He was nowhere. In-Between. And he was burning again. It was odd to actually feel something. This horrid burning, this fire that melted his flesh and shriveled his lungs, he embraced it fully despite the fact he could barely stand it. He wasn't sure how he made it to the In-Between without Sophia, and somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if he'd be able to make it back. What could he do about it if he couldn't, though? He just stopped there, allowing the pain to sweep over him and the flames to roll over his body as it licked at nothing.

But as he let go, he felt the fire fading, the pain weakening, as he felt himself melting into the fabric of the In-Between. The voices wailing grew louder. Would he become one of them? Would he become one of the Lost? He saw the shadow of a boy with his blurred, red-hazed eyes. The boy had features, but no face. He was crying out. He wanted to get away, out of this place. Beyond looked up to his name and lifespan out of habit; he could barely see them in the red haze. His name was Maxwell Hartman. Max. The boy who was the reason the island Sophia came from was called 'Maxey Island.' And here he was, Lost, stuck here forever.

Beyond's vision grew hazier as black rimmed his sight. He was melting away. His being began to fall away from him; he almost forgot who he was. He figured he should keep that, but it was so tempting to just let go…. It wasn't that he wanted to, really, it was just a natural thing for humans to lose themselves in this place. Of course, Beyond actually had the choice to stay or to leave. It was all about willpower, and his was slipping away….

Then he remembered L again. The fire and the pain burst back into being as Beyond cried out, his being grasped again and the Lost fading and returning to the red blur that they were trapped within. That Beyond had just got out of. And he burned again and he died again, without Sophia, and after an eternity it all stopped again and he was lying on the ground staring at the dark grey sky. The ground was damp, and it was raining. He didn't really care. He just lay there in the rain as the time ticked away, his clothes growing soaked and his body growing cold, cold as ice, cold as a killer's eyes, cold as Sophia, cold as the hand of Death.

"When do you think it'll stop raining?" asked Sierra as she peered out a broken window.

"It won't rain long," Mello replied as he shuffled through this abandoned place's things. "It'll pour for a bit, then it'll stop. It's just how it works."

"Oh, okay…. Have you found the rope yet?"

"No. I would tell you if I found it, don't you think?" he frowned.

"That makes sense."

He straightened up with an irritated sigh. "There's no rope here, anyway…. We'll check another place."

"Alright!" Sierra chirped, and they headed out. "You think we'll find it at the next place?" she asked, her arms crossed in front of her. She, unfortunately, did not have a jacket to keep her dry, but she really didn't mind.

"I hope so," he muttered. "I want to get back soon."

"Yeah…," Sierra agreed. "I'm kinda hungry, actually…." They had, after all, been unable to eat lunch as they scoured the area for rope. How hard could it be to find rope? Honestly. Both of them were getting irritated at this point. It didn't help that they could feel the other's irritation.

"Sorry." He shifted in pace, frowned, and began taking off his jacket.

"What are you doing?"

"It's raining," he replied, as if it were obvious.

"…So?"

"So, you don't have a jacket," he answered, holding it out to her.

"But I don't care about the rain," Sierra said, furrowing her brow.

"Just take it."

"I'm fine, though," she insisted.

"Just take it," Mello said with slight irritation, and draped it over her shoulders. She at first resisted but eventually just uncomfortably accepted it with the muttering of a thank you.

They continued on in silence, though the alleys would whistle with the wind and the cars would blare their horns, their windshield wipers swishing against the wet windshield. The next place to search was reached; an abandoned home. Mello and Sierra split up in hopes of finding the rope. At this point, they weren't very hopeful, but they were still thorough in their search. Sierra checked upstairs, and Mello checked downstairs. The upstairs still had a few items from the family that used to live there. She found forgotten teddy bears in a child's room. There were dusty books in what she assumed was the parent's room. But there wasn't any rope, not in the closet and not anywhere.

The last room seemed to be the room of a teenager. There was a nice bed that hadn't been used in years and faded patches on the wall where posters used to hang. But it was something else that caught her eye.

I found some rope, Mello thought to her.

Okay, she responded as she went forward. Before her, leaning against the wall, was an old guitar. She hesitated, then slowly lifted the instrument, brushing off the dust covering it. The corner of her mouth quirked upward for a moment. I wonder if Mello will let me keep it…. She gazed at it, a nostalgic and sad smile on her lips.

Are you coming? the chocoholic asked.

Yeah, she thought, walking out of the room with the guitar cradled in her arms. Mello was giving her an odd look when she came down the stairs. "I can keep this, right?" she asked hopefully.

He sighed lightly. "I don't see why not," he muttered, then turned to the door. "Ready to go back to the hideout?"

"Yep!" she yipped, running to catch up to him. Upon going outside, they discovered it was no longer raining. The clouds were now off to the southeast, the sky they left behind darkening.

"What exactly are you planning on doing with that, anyway?" Mello asked her, eyeing the guitar in her arms.

"Play it, obviously," she replied.

"You can play the guitar?" he asked dully.

"Yup!" she grinned. "Well, I can play a little, and I haven't played in years, but I still remember a few songs…."

"Huh."

"Yeah…." Her voice trailed off as her gaze went off into the past. Not-so-happy memories surfaced, but she tried to push them away. Mello shifted at the feeling of her unhappiness. Silence blanketed them again as they walked. It began to get dark, and as time passed, the emotions eased. For now.

They passed through another alley among the many they had travelled through and, to Sierra's surprise, she recognized a song playing in the place their left side (she wasn't quite sure what place it was). It was actually a band similar to Vocaloid; perhaps it was this was this world's version of it. It was because of this that Sierra took a liking to it in the first place. "Ooh!" she yelped. She set the guitar against the brick wall. "I know this song!"

"…Alright," Mello responded.

"C'mon, dance!" Sierra cried, grinning.

"No," he frowned.

"Oh, come on!" she insisted, and yanked on his wrist. He stumbled forward, the rope flopping to the ground. Sierra spun him around, laughing. "I'm not dancing alone, you wet towel!"

"I don't even know how!"

"So?" She laughed, and Mello grudgingly went along with it as the song played and resounded throughout the alley. And, as they danced and Sierra laughed and smiled, Mello found himself smiling ever so slightly along with her. "Oh my gob, a random guy just stared at us," she giggled.

"So?" Mello responded. "This was your idea!"

"True!"

They spun round and round and playfully tangoed like two good friends at a school dance, dancing to a fun, upbeat song. They pulled apart, both with a smile, then pulled together as the song ended. The smiles faded as they stared at one another, suddenly feeling awkward about the close contact. Sierra stepped back, and Mello broke the gaze. He coughed. "We should be getting back now."

"Yeah," she agreed, and they both picked up the rope and the guitar, respectively. "You were enjoying yourself, weren't you?"

"Of course not," he frowned. "I can't dance and… that was just stupid."

"Don't you lie to me, I saw that smile!" she teased.

"I wasn't smiling!"

"Yes you were," she sang, and they continued going on, back and forth, as they made their way back to Matt.

Starts off sad, ends off sweet.

Hm. In any case, now we know what happens to people whose Bonds have broken. Ahh, BB's so amusing to me when he's out of it like that.

So.

You people wanted to meet Max.

Here he is.

Not really what you guys were expecting, but that's Max's introduction. At least he's coming back around? Aha.

Fun Fact: Takenaka reminds me of Slenderman, and I've no clue why.

Review? For dancing~~