Disclaimer: I wish I owned Death Note...maybe when I rule the world I can!

Story Arc 1: The Project

April 12th, 2004

Chapter 9

A high pitched wailing startled me from my sleep. The obnoxious noise twisted and writhed throughout the room. It offered, instead of happiness and sunshine, the beginnings of a headache.

Groaning, I pressed the off switch to the alarm, ending the obnoxious noise.

What day was it?

Monday, my mind supplied.

I glanced at the clock. Beady, little lights formed red numbers that showed depressing information.

6:03 a.m. on Monday.

I groaned again; why would anyone want to wake up this early, ever?

Because you are suicidal.

I silently agreed with myself - only those who had a death wish got up this early.

You chose this.

I groaned. Yes. Of course I did. I had wanted an education...was it too late to turn back?

Sharp knocks came from my door, pulling my attention from my pity party.

"B?" Drew's voice called from beyond the wooden door.

I rolled out of bed, crossing the room to pull open the door to let the chocolate haired boy in. Drew stood there dressed in gym shorts and the same generic green tee-shirt he had worn everyday since I had met him. The braid he usually wore was gone; instead, his hair was fashioned in a high ponytail, his bangs pinned back with several multicolored bobby pins.

His eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise as he glanced down. "You're still in your sleepwear?"

I nodded before gesturing towards his clothing.

"My clothes? I know they're different, but it shouldn't really surprise you. I can't be expected to wear my normal clothing for our physical education class." He smiled, twisting the ends of his ponytail around his fingers.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. Remembering putting away some gym shorts and a tee-shirt a few days ago, I turned from Drew to dig through a couple of drawers in my dresser and eventually pulled them out.

Behind me, I heard Drew shuffle his way across the room towards my desk, "Did you enjoy any of the books we found out last night?"

I nodded, turning around to throw the clothing in my hands onto the bed between us. The books Drew had given me were much easier than the books I had discovered for myself. I blew through them quickly. I even read a couple of chapters of the required reading for English class.

"I'm glad!" Drew smiled, setting down the book. He leaned his lithe body against the side of my desk, his fingers brought the end of his ponytail over his shoulder to play with the brown ends. The way the morning light peaked through the window made the strands seem almost as bright red as mine. For a moment, I contemplated on whether or not my hair would look that beautiful in the morning sun.

I scoffed at myself. I probably looked like a bright, frizzy tomato.

Drew, after a moment of silence, pulled open the top drawer to the desk and dipped his hand inside, rattling the contents around. I hadn't even bothered to look through my desk yet, but from the sound of it, there seemed to be a lot of junk just sitting in there.

Drew hummed in success; pulling out his prize, he closing the drawer. His fingers tugged on the wrapper, the label of the object clearly seen. Post-It Notes.

I smiled as he tossed the top of the three he finished unwrapping at me. The blue square dived through the air and landed, magically, into my hands. Next, he tossed me a pen.

"There!" He smiled, pushing off from the desk and walked across the room towards the door. "Now we can communicate!" He paused at the doorway, "Anyway, class congregates outside, in front of the mansion."

Nodding, I closed the door as he continued down the hallway with a small wave to me. I turned to change, pulling off my pajamas to put on the gym shorts and gray tee-shirt. Locating a hair tie, I pulled up my hair into a high ponytail and slipped the end of it into my shirt before pushing my feet into my ratted tennis shoes.

I was suddenly pumped for the day. The appearance of Drew had helped with that. And his discovery of the sticky notes meant that I had a convenient way of communicating with him!

Smiling, I pushed the pen into my hair, before sliding the post-it notes into the pocket of my gym shorts. Ready for the day, I picked up the room key on my side table and exited my room. I locked the door, being careful to put the key into the opposite pocket from my sticky notes so it wouldn't fall out when I took out the blue papers.

Students were walking in groups down the hallway, their voices hushed so as not to disturb the quiet of the morning.

I passed the others, jogging down the hallway and the stairs to front door. A group of teens were slipping out the door when I jogged up, one of the male teenagers were kind enough to hold the door open for me, smiling widely.

"Hold in your enthusiasm, cowboy! You're going to need it!" The rest of the male's friends had held back to wait for their friend. They laughed. This signified their unified agreement.

Smiling politely, I followed the continuing trail of students to a much larger gathering of children and teens. They were standing in same area as the children who had gathered to play tag two days ago.

Drew stood a little off to the side of the main group, having a conversation with two other kids.

Feeling brave, I strode over to his group and touched Drew's elbow, indicating that I was there. I moved to stand beside him. The brown haired boy jumped at the sudden contact, tearing his arm from my grasp.

"B!" He seemed to whine, the pitch of his voice lilting upward just fractionally. "You frightened me!"

I shrugged, giving him a sheepish smile. "Sorry," I mouthed, automatically signing the word out as well. Drew glanced down, watching my hands move.

"B, you know I can't understand sign language. Use the sticky notes."

Sighing, I pulled them from my pocket and tugged the pen from my hair. He must have missed my mouth forming the word in his confusion in watching my hands. I quickly scrawled my words onto the small blue surface: "I said I was sorry! :)"

I passed Drew the message and watched as his eyes quickly read it before crumpling it up and putting it in his pocket. "It's fine, really!"

The larger male of the group, laughed. "Dude, you can't understand sign language?"

"No-"

The next male, a boy with cropped, dirty blonde hair, interrupted Drew, "Wasn't that a course that was mandatory three years ago?"

"Yeah," the bigger kid looked thoughtful for a moment. "It was because of a deaf boy, wasn't it?"

"I think so. He got kicked out since he couldn't keep up with the curriculum."

The larger boy laughed, his chin tucked in slightly to produce a second chin underneath his already prominent one. "Of course not! He was deaf. It wasn't fair at all. The teachers had to give him extra lessons!"

"Extra lessons?" Drew asked, his eyebrows drawing down slightly in irritation.

"Since he was unable to attend our classes without an interpreter."

"You know," the bigger boy chimed in. "Because he was deaf." He turned to me, his smile growing larger, producing another roll of fat to add to his already prominent two. His voice lilted towards condescending, "Is B deaf as well?"

I shook my head, scowling, "Nope, I can hear very well, thank you!" I forced myself to smiled as the larger boy grunted, his own smile still plastered to his face.

"Guess we won't have to go through sign language class again, then!"

Then a whistle sounded and everything was in a flurry. Drew dragged me to stand beside him as he joined the majority of the group. All of the children then formed a straight line, standing shoulder to shoulder.

Footfalls thudded heavily behind us as a person walked farther down to round the end our long line. Silence descended, even the birds had ceased their chirping. The air had become steadily heavier with intimidation.

Unnerved, I dared not move to see who was scary enough to make birds stop chirping. I quietly waited until he was standing before us all. His legs were apart with his arms tucked neatly behind his back. The skin of his head shone in the early morning sun, collecting a blinding beam of light right on top of his cranium, like a signal flare. The man's skin was tanned and worn, wrinkles collecting at the corner of his mouth and eyes and in between his eyebrows. His clothes were several shades lighter than his dark skin, the light khaki material pulled taut across the obviously sharp musculature of his body.

"WORMS!" An intense, masculine voice barked, raising the hair on my arms. "ATTENTION!"

The sharp snap of movement sounded as a resonant "SIR!" was shouted in response. I stood in tense awe, to shocked to think of copying the movements of my peers.

The man turned his gaze quickly down the line. I physically flinched when the man stopped and stared me, his gaze piercing and dark. He all but sprinted at me, his movements intent as his arms swung outward taking up as much space as possible. It was as if he actually wished to knock me over with his Herculean arms.

I flinched backwards as he shoved his face right into mine, "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, YOU LITTLE SHIT?" Spittle flew from his mouth, disgust managed to roll through me when the cool moisture hit my skin.

Despite this, I shivered, tearing my eyes from his and looked at the ground. My hands shook as I tried to sign a response, but the man was back to spitting out profanities.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" I glanced up. Apparently that was the wrong response because he immediately furrowed his brow farther down, almost connecting the two together. "A FUCKING SIGNER?! GREAT! NEXT THEY'LL BE SENDING ME RETARDS!"

Being compared to a mentally handicapped child stung. I felt my eye prick with moisture.

I sensed his eyes still on me. I shook a bit harder. His voice dropped down a few volumes, but the effect was so much more terrifying. It felt much more personal.

"So what, you're going to cry now? Fucking baby, aren't you?" His breath was sour, a hint of tang hanging underneath...alcohol? My father had the same smell, but this was much more prevalent..."You're a bit fatter than some of the bastards we get around here."

He didn't even move away before he began yelling again. I could feel his voice vibrate through me. "LISTEN HERE, SHITLINGS! WE HAVE FRESH MEAT TODAY. WHAT DO WE SAY WE GIVE HER THE OLD INITIATION, EH?"

Initiation?

I felt myself start to sweat. That didn't sound good at all. All at once, I started to imagine what kind of tortures the man would put me though.

The lines of children snapped their arms in and shouted, "SIR, YES SIR!"

"GET TO RUNNING, MAGGOT!"

Adrenaline shot through me as my body sprung to action, the command acting as a verbal switch. My legs started moving on their own, and I sprinted away, the teacher shouting after me, "AND DON'T STOP UNTIL YOU'RE DEAD!"

After a few minutes I couldn't hear the shouts and wails of despair as the class responded to his orders for them. I kept the brick walls of the mansion to my left as I ran around it. The building was much larger when I was running the length of it. When I finally made it all the way around, the teacher was waiting for me, his arms crossed and a glare on his face.

I came to a stop before him, breathing heavily.

He regarded me coldly, his eyes taking in what he saw, the wheels in his brain visibly turning; I wondered briefly what he saw while I waited for his ultimatum.

"I was told you were fourteen. You seem to be much shorter than a girl of your age should be. And wider. You're much wider. You're winded after a lap around the orphanage, which mean you're not used to exercise. However, it could also be due to the lack of nutrition in your diet recently." He pulled out a pad of paper and a pen from behind him, leaving me wondering where he had pulled it from him. The creases in between his eyebrows deepened as he regarded something on the pad of paper before scribbling it out.

"I'm starting you on a strict diet and a physical regimen until I determine that you are up to our orphanage's standards." He began writing, his large tanned hand moving swiftly across the page. "You've only been eating a small quantity of fruit or pastries daily; however, it's obvious you are used to larger portions than an apple or a pear. The cooks will provide you your own approved meal; you will eat all of it. You will also attended every meal." He glanced up, his gaze stern. "Just because you are experiencing loss does not mean that you can allow your body to become malnourished."

I nodded, extremely uncomfortable that he knew so much about what I had been eating.

He turned his attention back to the pad of paper. "Your martial arts instructor and I will work out a schedule of physical activity that you are to follow." The look on his face told me that I shouldn't back talk.

I nodded meekly.

Edited 07/05/2015: InkstainedHands edited this chapter and made it much better and flow-y! I'm so grateful!