Hi, people. I was bored so I decided to put up the first official chapter of Death Wish. Believe me, updates that are this frequent won't be regular. Normally, I'm too busy. But I just made it through a disgusting mid-term exam and I was feeling the power. So, here it is. Oh, and in response to reviews:

cheeseandhamburger: Thanks for your review! I see your point. But I didn't think it was that unrealistic. Haven't you ever met someone who just made you uncomfortable or gave you the creeps from the start? I have. I just kind of wanted to imply that Sayaka was a pretty good judge of character and that she felt a little uncomfortable with him. I wouldn't even say "scared" is a word I would use to describe it. But that's just how I see it.

sagewhisker1111: Yeah, I'm typically kinda vague about stuff like that when I write a prologue. Usually my prologues are pretty short, and when I write them, I try not to give away too much. It works better than others at different times, I guess. I'm glad you enjoyed it otherwise, though :) And believe me, there will be plenty more time to learn about Sayaka and who she is as we go! Thank you so much for reviewing.

Anyway... this is the chapter where things actually kind of get started. Oh and just so you know now, I will be messing with a few canon plot lines and devices later on, so please don't get mad at me for it! If you don't like what I do with it, you can obviously feel free to let me know, as long as you aren't mean, that is. But I just wanted to let you know so you aren't surprised when I change a few things for my convenience and sometimes for the fun of it ;)

Thanks for your support and I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note.

Team L

Get up—get dressed—eat breakfast—brush teeth—walk to school—sit through classes—walk home—do homework—eat dinner—do more homework—shower—go to bed—repeat. That was the life of Light Yagami. He was the perfect student. The perfect son. He did all that was expected of him and more, and his parents and teachers praised him for it. But he didn't really care; it was just habit.

Everything was out of habit. The life he lived was all just one big game, a game he'd already conquered. It was not only dull—it was isolating, living among family and friends he couldn't even relate to. For years, he'd strolled through life with disinterest, certain that there had to be something else waiting for him—a greater purpose. There had to be another reason he was here on this Earth, other than to simply continue living this meaningless existence.

And finally, I've found it.

"I don't really get what your deal is, Light," the Shinigami Ryuk said passively. "I mean, don't get me wrong—you're definitely not what I expected to end up with, and in the best way, but what's the point of all this? Not that I care. As long as it's interesting, I'm along for the ride. But like I said, most people wouldn't be so quick to write names in that Death Note."

Light glanced behind himself at Ryuk. The Shinigami was hovering in the air, held up by gigantic black pair of wings. A pair of beady red eyes stared at him, ever full of mischief and curiosity. And although Light had yet to find a flaw in his master plan (although he was sure he would face plenty of challenges when the time came) he had to admit that being followed around by a phantom that no one else could see was difficult to get used to. Not to mention creepy.

Letting out a sigh, Light made sure he wasn't in hearing distance of any bystanders or passersby before voicing his reply: "And I already explained it to you. I have no reason to hesitate. I know exactly what has to be done."

"Do you, now?" Ryuk challenged with a smirk.

"Of course I do. Even for someone like me, it wasn't easy to accept at first. But somehow I've always known it deep down—this is the only way that any changes will be made toward a brighter future for this world. You said most people wouldn't be so quick to use the Death Note. Well, the answer to that is simple; most people just don't have it in them. Either they're afraid of getting caught or they don't have the stomach to make the necessary sacrifices. But I can't afford to be timid. I'm the only one who has the power to make this happen. If I don't change the world, then who will?"

"And you aren't afraid of getting caught, yourself?" Ryuk asked.

"I won't get caught," Light said, taking out of his backpack the apple he'd saved from lunch and tossing it at Ryuk. He'd learned quickly that feeding the Shinigami apples was the way to make him happy. Maybe it would keep him quiet too.

But even as he chomped down on the juicy piece of fruit, Ryuk didn't shut up. "You're certainly confident. Hope it doesn't backfire on you."

Light rolled his eyes. "I'm not stupid, Ryuk. I know how to protect myself. And I plan on taking all measures needed to do so. You just sit back and wait; I'll keep things interesting for you."

Ryuk wiped off his mouth after devouring the entirety of his apple, including the core. "Well, I sure hope so. I'd better get what I signed up for. Hey, you got any more of those?"

"That was it," Light said, spotting his house down the street. "We're gonna be heading inside, so don't talk to me until we're in my room. It'll be annoying having to listen to you while my mom and sister are around."

The Shinigami grunted in annoyance. "Yeah, okay, whatever."

Light fell silent after that and kept his thoughts to himself while he headed inside his house. "I'm home," he called lamely as he slipped off his shoes. And as always, his mother poked her head out into the hallway and smiled brightly at him.

"Welcome back, Light," she said. "How was school?"

"Ah, it was all right," he replied, already slowly moving in the direction of the stairs. But he suddenly became self-aware of the act and stopped in his tracks. Don't get ahead of yourself. Play it cool. He had to keep up normal appearances—he couldn't allow his eagerness to get the best of him.

His mom laughed. "You always say that. But you always do so well!"

Light grinned. "I try, I guess."

"And you're so modest about it," she said. "But you never let me reward you or anything."

"That's because it isn't needed, Mom," he told her.

"Right—but if you did need something, you would tell me, wouldn't you?"

It took Light about half a second longer to answer her question than usual. He didn't anticipate it. It wasn't really characteristic of her to push. "Uh—of course I would."

His mother sighed softly and touched his arm. "Okay. It's just—sometimes I do worry about you. You work so hard and I'm proud of you, but I don't want you to over-do it. You spend so much time up there in your room—it can't be good for you. You should try to get out more, spend time with friends."

Up until this point, Light hadn't realized that his mother was worried about him, and it didn't take him long to decide that he wasn't a fan of the idea. Not only because he wanted to put her at ease, but also because if she was worried about him, that meant he hadn't been doing his job well enough go about his life normally. But still, she was his mother. It was only expected that she would notice these things.

So he put on a smile and did his best to reassure her. "No, it really isn't a big deal. I'm fine. It's just been really busy at school lately. Senior year and all that. But you're right, I probably could use to get out more. I did stop in a café the other day so—that counts for something, doesn't it?"

With a chuckle, his mother said, "Yes, that counts, I guess. But yeah, I mean it. You should go on a date or schedule a Sunday out with friends. I know you're popular in school. You've brought friends home before. Just—social interaction is good for you. As important as it is for you to keep your grades up, I'd like to see you making connections, too."

Light nodded. "Okay, okay. I'll try, all right?"

"That's all I can ask for," she said.

"Maybe this weekend," he continued, pulling his bag up on his shoulder. "We'll see. I have some work to do, so I'm gonna head upstairs. Is that okay?"

She sighed. "Of course. Study well. I'll call you down for dinner, okay?"

"Sounds good. Thanks." Then, finally having gotten her approval, Light escaped up the stairs to his room, where he locked the door and threw down his bag.

Ryuk snickered in the corner. "Mommy's worried about you. How sweet."

"Be quiet, Ryuk," Light said with a sigh as he went into his drawer to pull out the Death Note.

"Hey, be nice to me," Ryuk snapped. "I behaved the entire time."

"That's true, you did," Light allowed, even though at the moment he wasn't paying much attention. Even he couldn't deny how alive he felt when he held the notebook in his hands. It was strangely ironic, considering his morbid use of it. But he supposed it was because he felt his actions were making a difference. He was destroying criminals and cleansing this world of evil, a little bit at a time. The very prospect shot sweet adrenaline through his veins.

Ryuk then plopped down on Light's bed, leaning his head in his fist. He watched silently as Light gathered up his school notebooks along with the Death Note and set them on his desk. Then he asked, "So, what's it gonna be first? Homework or God's work?"

Light didn't fail to notice as Ryuk uttered those words with a tiny hint of irony, but he ignored them. He sat down at his desk and cracked his knuckles before snatching up a ballpoint pen. Cracking a devilish smile, he turned to Ryuk and asked, "What do you think?"

The damn faucet was leaking again.

For the third time in six months. And Sayaka could not for her own life figure out what the problem was. It was leaking from the bottom of the right handle, about the same spot as the previous two times this happened. Some time ago she went out and bought a wrench just so she could fix the tap herself without having to say anything to Tomone. But at this rate she would have to call a repair guy, or at least someone with better skills in this area. She couldn't afford to waste water.

Then again, she couldn't really afford to call professional help, either. And yet another paycheck, eaten up before she ever got her hands on it.

Sayaka let out a sigh and stepped out of her tiny bathroom as she carefully buttoned up her work blouse. She was fairly certain she had enough time to spare before her morning shift. But then she shot a glance around the corner at the clock next to her bed and cursed, using English terms her co-workers probably wouldn't understand. And by God, she was thankful for that.

Finishing up her blouse while still making sure to do the buttons correctly, she quickly smoothed her skirt and grabbed a hair tie so that she could try to at least give herself a half-decent looking pony-tail. And lastly, shutting off all the lights and nabbing her keys off the counter, she rushed out the door and down the small stairwell, which led right into the café kitchen.

"I'm here, I'm here," she said, scurrying past her co-workers to get a notepad and pen so she could start taking orders. She didn't even stop as she usually did in the mornings to breathe in her favorite scent: fresh coffee and pancakes. She was in too much of a hurry to get past the boss undetected. But she was caught before she got very far.

"You're late," Tomone observed, crossing her arms.

"Yes," Sayaka said, guessing that she might as well briefly explain the situation. "I—"

But Tomone wasn't quite done scolding her just yet. "You only live upstairs, Sayaka. I expect better."

"I know, but—"

"Your excuse better not be that you slept in."

Sayaka huffed, tired of being interrupted. "No, ma'am—I'm sorry. The bathroom faucet sprang a leak, so I got distracted."

"Sprang a leak?" Tomone asked, surprised. "Well, did you call someone?"

"Uh, not yet." Suddenly, the taller yet meeker girl felt sheepish. Some days, the boss really did have a way of making her employees feel smaller than she was. "I realized I was going to be late so I didn't—it's not a big leak, but I was worried about it wasting water—or getting worse, you know?"

"Right, right," Tomone said, seeming to take a moment of consideration. Then she spoke quickly, but decisively. "Fine, I'll call to get it looked at. You go get to work. It's gonna be a busy morning."

Sayaka only nodded and voiced her agreement, figuring that the potential expense was a discussion to be had later. But it was difficult not to let her mind wander back in that direction as she headed out to the main room to fill orders. These days she wasn't a fan of having to owe Tomone any more than she already did. Tomone was kind enough to let her work in her café and rent out the apartment upstairs—what more could she possibly ask for?

As difficult as it had been for Sayaka to make her way in this world after everything that happened last year, she could say that Tomone's kindness and patience had been the sweetest salvation. Not that she would ever be able to explain the depth of this gratitude to Tomone herself. Actually, knowing her, she probably wouldn't believe any of it, to begin with.

Luckily, the morning passed by more painlessly than Sayaka expected it would. While Saturday mornings tended to be more hectic than others, everyone was on their game today and moving things along swiftly and efficiently. As a result, Tomone spent the day in a good mood because that was exactly how she liked it. Yori was also in the kitchen this morning, so her skills were highly treasured. She had a large following of customers who visited the café each week just for her blueberry pancakes. Even Sayaka had to admit that they were tasty, although most of the pancake-y flavor was covered up the last time she ate them by all the syrup she used.

There were certain aspects of being alive that would never grow old to her. Sweet food was one of them.

Morning passed into afternoon, and for a while business slowed down, allowing Sayaka and the other workers a bit of a break. And meanwhile, Sayaka got to enjoy some average girl chit-chat with Yori in the kitchen.

"Would you be willing to go get your hair styled?" Yori asked.

Sayaka shrugged, sipping a hot chocolate. "I don't know. Why?"

Yori fluffed her hair a little, seeming a bit wistful as she thought about the subject. "Well, I was thinking about going to get mine done. I wanted to get a purple streak in it, but Tomone said I couldn't if I wanted to stay here. It went something like, 'If you walk in here with anything in your hair other than your God-given color, I'll point you straight toward the door." However—she did not say anything about a little styling! I don't think I want to chop it off, but I think I'd like to get some taken off at least and maybe do something pretty with it—you know?"

"I imagine that'd be nice," Sayaka replied.

Yori smiled. "Really? So, would you do it with me?"

"Why do I need to do it with you?"

"Because it isn't as fun to get your hair done if you don't have someone to go with."

Sayaka already knew that getting Yori to take "no" for an answer was a slim to none probability. But she still wasn't entirely sure about the idea of changing her hair. "I'm really not sure what would look good on me."

With a laugh, Yori said, "Oh, you'd rock any look, sweetie! You have such pretty dark hair."

After that, Sayaka started feeling a little bashful again. "Ya think?"

"Yeah! You could just get a trim—I think your length is great as it is. But I bet side bangs or something would be nice."

Sayaka hummed softly to herself, playing with her hair and considering if maybe a little bit of a change might not be such a bad idea after all. She'd have to give it a little thought. But she still promised to go with Yori to the hairstylist at some point during the week. No turning back at that point, apparently.

"Hey, you guys, come out here!" one of the girls called from the main room. And of course, Sayaka and Yori both got up to see what all the fuss was about, but Sayaka did not anticipate that all the excitement was over a sudden announcement on TV.

"It's a worldwide broadcast from the ICPO," the same girl said, beckoning them over. By now, even the few customers in the room had stopped eating to watch as Tomone turned up the volume.

A man with dark hair and a suit appeared on the screen. "I head an International Police Task Force that includes all member nations. I am Lynd L. Tailor, otherwise known as L."

L…?

Sayaka leaned closer to Yori and whispered, "Do you know who he is?"

Yori shook her head. "Never heard of him."

The man who called himself L continued, "Criminals around the world are becoming the victims of a serial killer—and I consider this to be one of the most atrocious acts of murder in history. I will not rest until those responsible are brought to justice. Kira—I will hunt you down and find you."

Sayaka frowned. So this is about Kira after all. The police must have finally decided to make a move.

"Kira," the man went on, "I have a good idea of your motivations, and I can guess what you hope to achieve—but what you're doing right now is evil."

As of that moment, Sayaka put the pieces together in her head and realized what kind of dangerous territory this was. If Kira was an actual person or group of people committing these murders, it seemed foolish for this "L" to broadcast himself all over television making accusations. And furthermore, what did this even accomplish? How did making threats across a screen help move the case forward? Sayaka was left asking these questions in her head for not but a moment longer—only until Lynd L. Taylor clutched his chest and dropped dead on live TV.

Everyone in the room stirred, whispering and whimpering from fear due to the horrifying incident. Even Sayaka herself was a little shaken as she watched a couple other men drag Taylor's body away.

Less than a second later, a new image appeared on the screen—a blank one other than the letter "L" printed in the middle, in a large and admittedly impressive font. The voice that spoke next was disguised by a voice modifier, and it sounded almost spine-tinglingly eerie in contrast to the dead silence of the café room.

"I—I had to test it just in case, but I never thought it would actually happen," the voice said, apparently just as mystified as everyone else. "Kira—so you can kill people without having to be there in person. I wouldn't have believed it myself if I hadn't just witnessed it."

Although she only watched with vague interest at first, Sayaka's full attention was now on the television. The events of the last five minutes alone were enough to get the wheels in her head turning and her blood pumping. And she always loved a good brain teaser.

Now she realized without him even having to say it. The man on television earlier wasn't L. Just a moment ago she thought L must have been some kind of idiot, but now… There was a method to his madness, after all.

"Listen to me, Kira," L said, explaining what Sayaka had just managed to gather up in her head. "If you did kill Lynd L. Taylor, the man who you just saw die on television, I should tell you that he was a prison inmate whose execution was scheduled for today. That wasn't me."

Sayaka nodded slowly, listening even as she cast her eyes aside to think. An inmate—it made sense.

"But I assure you," he continued, "L is real. I do exist. Now—try to kill me!"

Her head shot up again and she listened to the sounds of panic in the room. Oh, God. Was it possible? Could Kira do it? Would hiding behind a screen and a voice modifier protect L? She bit her lip in anticipation as L continued to bait Kira without a hint of fear.

"What's the matter? Can't you do it?"

A few more dreadful seconds passed.

"Well, Kira," L concluded, "It seems that you can't kill me, after all." Even through the voice modifier, Sayaka could hear him smiling. "So there are people you can't kill. Thanks for the hint. But let me return the favor. I'll tell you something I think you'll find interesting. Although this was announced as a world-wide broadcast, we're actually only broadcasting in the Kanto region of Japan. I had planned to broadcast this message around the world until we found you, but it seems that will no longer be necessary. I now know where you are."

It was then that Sayaka felt the edges of her own lips turning up into a smile. This guy was good. Almost too good.

"The police treated your first murder as an unrelated incident, but the first of your victims was actually a suspect in Shinjuku. Of all the criminals who have died of heart attacks as of late, this one's crime was by far the least serious—furthermore, his crime was only reported within Japan. So I used that information to deduce that you are in Japan, and your first victim was only an experiment, meaning you haven't been killing for very long. We decided to broadcast in Kanto first because of the large population—luckily, we found you. To be honest, I never expected it to go this well, but—now it won't be long before I'll be able to sentence you to death. I have to say I'm interested to hear how you're able to commit these murders without being present—but I guess I don't mind waiting a little longer. You can answer all my questions after I catch you. Let's meet again soon—Kira."

The broadcast ended, and everyone in the room let out the breath they didn't realize they'd been holding, including Sayaka.

"Wow, that was intense," Yori said after a moment, putting a hand on her chest. "That L—he must be like a famous detective or something. And from the sound of it he must be pretty darn good at his job."

"I'd say," Sayaka agreed with a nod. "This Kira is in for some tough competition."

She could hardly deny that she was baffled that L managed to deduce Kira's whereabouts so quickly. Two weeks ago, the entity they called "Kira" didn't even exist. It was only in the last week or so that people began talking about him, not even really knowing what "him" was, or if it was even a "him" to begin with. Now, all of the sudden it seemed plausible. Up until now Kira only took the lives of criminals. But by killing Lynd L. Taylor he proved that he wasn't out for the safety of others. He had to be young and naïve to believe that he could force his own ideals on others through any means, whatever they were. Sayaka had no idea how Kira could possibly cause the heart attacks of thousands of people, but she reasoned that she'd encountered stranger things.

Although that was really saying something.

However, because of all this, Sayaka now knew at least one thing for certain: she was Team L, all the way.