I'm back! My little vacation was heavenly, but it's nice to have an internet connection again, and I felt a little bad about not being able to post anything. Thanks if you left me a review while I was on vacation; they seriously brighten my day! And before you go on to read this chapter, I should warn you that this one has a few very specific references to the LABB Murder Case, and so if you haven't read it, it might not make a whole lot of sense—but it shouldn't affect the story too much, so don't worry.

Also, you may rejoice, for this is the last chapter in which the characters do nothing but sit around and mope!

Chapter 17: Starlight

Kira glared at the wall, lost in thought. His red eyes pretended to study the flaking brown paint and chipping plaster of the bedroom walls as he delved deep into his own thoughts, puzzling over the specifics of what he would soon attempt to do. He leaned further back into the computer chair he was lounging in. He was slouched in the chair so he was dangerously close to slipping off. One leg was thrown over the armrest, the other planted firmly on the ground. His head rested on one fist, the other hanging limply over the armrest. He looked listless. He was listless. He tilted his head with a sigh, and a curtain of hair fell in front of his eyes. He raised a hand to the amber strands and pinched a few hairs between his fingers, tugging irritably as he remembered a conversation he'd had with Beyond a few nights prior.

It had started when the dark-haired murderer waltzed out of the kitchen and into the bedroom, where Kira had been busy killing criminals for what could quite possibly have been days. He'd fallen into a trance of sorts, his furious scribbling cut off only by the long periods of thought he would fall into as he puzzled out the details of his latest plan. Over the past several days he'd designed a variation of plans with over a ninety percent chance of working, all of them ending the same way—with L dead at his feet. He had yet to decide which one he would attempt to follow, and he was engaged in one of his thought sessions when Beyond walked in—and so when the murderer had laid a hand on his shoulder, whirling his chair around, he'd very nearly punched the older man in the face in a fit of surprise.

"Beyond!" Kira had snapped, jerking away from his partner and pressing both hands over his face, attempting to hide how badly he'd startled him. "Make some noise when you come in here, I nearly turned around and started swinging!"

The murderer grinned toothily. "Aww," he purred, "Worried that you'll hurt me, little god? "I wouldn't be concerned about such things; we both know that you couldn't even come close to harming me."

Momentarily blinded by anger, Kira's fist shot forward with the intent of slamming into Beyond's jaw and proving just now dangerous he could be—but much to his irritation, the murderer caught Kira's fist with his palm, squeezing harshly. A grin spread Beyond's his face when he heard his lover's soft cry of pain, and he hissed out, "Oh no, Kira…did you really try to hit me with your right hand? The one with the broken fingers? And you didn't even consider the possibility that I might take advantage of that little fact?" He threw his head back, laughing heartily.

"Let me go," Kira spat, attempting to wrench his hand away, ignoring the sharp pain lacing up his am. "Or do you want my damn fingers to stay broken forever?"

"Let you go? No, no, I can't do that!" He leaned in, teeth bared, lips dangerously close to Kira's.

"Get off, Beyond! This isn't the time for your little games; I'm trying to decide how we should kill L!"

"…Not a good enough reason. Now, what do you say to—hey, stop struggling! Kira!"

And that was when Kira had made his big mistake. He hadn't meant much by it; he'd only needed an excuse that would get Beyond out of his way while he worked. And so, without thinking about the possible repercussions, Kira opened his mouth and snapped, "I don't want to sleep with you until you don't look like L!"

After that, a heavy silence had fallen over the room. But Beyond didn't look offended like Kira had hoped—rather, he looked confused, and perhaps a bit entertained. "You don't want to have sex with me because…I look like L."

"Y-yes, that's exactly what I mean." Actually, that was not what he'd meant; he'd just wanted an excuse to get his lover off his back. But now that he'd said it, he couldn't back down, and so he went on, "Other than the eyes, you look exactly like him—I don't want o be reminded of that little freak every time I look at you!"

Beyond stared for a moment, clearly trying to puzzle out the logic behind his lover's words. "But Kira, I've slept with you plenty of times now, and you've never had a problem with it before. You're behaving absurdly."

"It doesn't matter how I'm behaving! Just get out and leave me alone!"

Understanding flashed through his eyes. "Ah, I understand. You are refusing me because you want to turn your full attention to our plan, and you think that if you offend me, I'll leave you alone. That is why you are acting so strangely."

"Well, I wouldn't say—"

"Give it up, little god. Your idea wasn't a very good one in the first place. I thought you'd know by now that offending me makes me angry, and making me angry leads to—"

"All right, all right!" Kira hissed. "I know what it leads to."

"And besides," Beyond chuckled, "Your logic is flawed."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well…" The murderer's face was suddenly inches from Kira's, hot breath puffing across flushed skin. "I may look like L, but you look like exactly Light."

"That's different! We share a body, you moron!"

Beyond shrugged, though the gesture was calculated. "Then do something to make it your body."

"Just what are you entailing?" Kira spluttered furiously.

Waving a hand, Beyond responded, "Relax! It's not whatever you're thinking."

"Then what exactly is it?" Kira demanded.

Beyond paused thoughtfully, gazing into red eyes. His teeth gnawed at his bottom lip cutely as he took a lock of Kira's amber hair between his fingers, eyes raking over the silk-like strands. "Your hair. You should dye it."

Kira choked on laughter, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. "Dye it? And just what color do you propose? Black, like a commoner?"

He ignored the obvious jab at his own hair color. "Hmm, I was thinking more along the lines of scarlet, like your beautiful eyes." Beyond fluttered his lashes like a teenage girl, drawing another barking laugh from the supposed god.

"And what about you?" Kira shot back. "Would you dye your hair? Would you join me in differentiating ourselves from our twins?"

"I am incapable of doing such a thing, seeing as my hair has been too modified to dye."

Ah, of course…Kira remembered then, that long, long ago, Beyond's hair had been bright blonde, and had been greatly modified so that it would stay black. He wasn't sure how the murderer managed to permanently change his hair color, but he had his suspicions. "Then it's hardly fair for me to dye my hair, don't you think?"

Beyond huffed, though he was clearly less annoyed than he looked. "Just consider it. You'd look…godly."

The choice of words had made Kira shudder harshly—Beyond knew just how to manipulate him.

Mind snapping back to current time, Kira huffed, amused at the memory. He ran his fingers through his amber hair slowly, letting each strand fall back into place with practiced ease. He hadn't taken Beyond's advice, so his hair remained stubbornly brown. Maybe, he thought, I should consider it. This body is rather boring, after all. It might be entertaining to see L's reaction, at the very least.

"Kira?"

Kira hissed in a low tone as the door to the room creaked open, flooding the nearly pitch-black room with light. He'd spent many, many hours in this darkened room, the Death Note open before him, pen in his hand, and his computer open to social media sites and news reports. It felt liberating, in a way, to have been separated from Light. To be his own person. It made him feel…free.

Kira felt something akin to drunk on that freedom. That was one of the reasons he'd spent the past several days locked up in this darkened room, writing almost constantly, killing everyone who had committed even the most minor of crimes. Beyond, the monster, had been trying to convince him to start offing innocents—but he wasn't quite up to that, and so long as he had Beyond to carry out such murders for him, he didn't see why he should dirty his hands with the blood of innocents.

"Hey, Kira, can you hear me?"

Oh, right… Kira looked up at the man standing in the doorway. "Beyond…I apologize." His eyes raked over the murderer. He was slightly hunched, black hair completely shambolic, reddish orange eyes gleaming. He was clothed in dark jeans and a long-sleeved V-neck shirt that matched his hair exactly, displaying the faint outlines of countless scars. Kira's eyes swept down to Beyond's ankle, where he knew a dagger was strapped beneath the pant leg. He located the slight bump in the pocket just over Beyond's heart where he was certain his favorite scalpel was hiding.

Beyond walked further into the room, frowning as he reached for the blinds and yanked them open. It was almost cute—Beyond seemed to lapse into these small moments of affection at random times, going from slashing brutally into Kira's flesh to bringing him a cup of coffee in the morning and making sure he didn't blind himself due to the endless hours of staring blankly at the Death Note. "It's nearly been three days. And while you've been offing criminals like the good little boy you are, I've been doing nothing but murdering innocents." He grinned toothily. "I think we've done enough distracting, don't you? So what's our next move? Do we pick off the members of the task force? Swoop in and take the successors?"

Kira brushed a hand through his hair. "Hmm… that's a good question." He slipped into thought for a moment. "I think… I need to figure out what my goal is."

"Has it changed?" Beyond questioned curiously. "You want to destroy L and create your perfect world, right? You've always wanted that, even when you were joined with the Yagami boy."

"Everyone's goals change," Kira murmured thoughtfully. "Take you, for example. In the beginning, when you lived at Wammy's House, you were infatuated with L. That's why you killed A, and why you went on that killing spree in Los Angeles. But when you figured out that L would never accept you, you became enraged, and wanted nothing more than to hurt him. At the same time, you learned of Kira—and when you realized that the one you so admired was at L's right hand, you decided to capture him. Although, you didn't know that you were really capturing Light instead of me. Once you figured out that Light wasn't the same as me, you attempted to kill him, and decided that you would do anything to bring about his end. And now, now that I have overpowered Light, stolen the Death Note, and returned to you, you just want to work with me and be by my side."

Frowning, Beyond insisted, "And your initial goal hasn't changed, correct? You still want to kill L. He has to be killed; he's the only thing that Light's fighting for, correct?"

"Ah, yes…" Kira ran two fingers down his cheek. He could still feel Light battling, ever so faintly. In the beginning, in those first few hours after the vanquishing of the rest of that damn silver, Light's resistance had been startlingly strong, especially for someone who had just been completely overwhelmed and drowned. But one swift blow had been all it took to slam the teen to the back of his own mind and keep him there. Kira smiled, remembering how lovely Light's mind had felt as he convulsed in the back of his consciousness. After that incident Light had calmed down significantly, only occasionally gathering enough strength to thrash for a moment. At the beginning of Kira's killing spree, Light had been especially insistent in his struggling. But as he realized he didn't have a chance of winning, the teen had eventually lost the strength to fight. It was a beautiful thing, seeing such a pure creature succumb to the darkness. And throughout every flutter of strength, every weak punch, Kira could sense Light feebly clinging to L. He clung to his voice, the memory of his touch, his appearance. He missed the detective, loved him dearly enough to throw himself at Kira again and again despite the fact that his battle was completely and utterly futile. So it was definitely true that L was Light's motivation for fighting. And if he were to remove that motivation…

But there was something else. An idea, a plan, a thought…slowly forming, twisting and turning in the back of his mind. But until he had more information, until he was sure…

"Forget I said anything," Kira instructed softly. "My intentions remain unchanged."

Beyond dared to lean into his god's chest, arms wrapping around his waist. "We kill L, then?"

"We kill him." And now, after this little chat, Kira knew exactly how he was going to do it. "Listen, Beyond—I know what we're going to do."

He raised a brow, a flicker of excitement in his eyes. "Oh really? It took you long enough."

Kira growled, the noise rumbling low in his throat as he spat, "Be quiet, Beyond, and let me explain!"

The murderer leaned back with a shrug.

Kira pushed himself to his feet in a sharp, sudden movement, slamming his Death Note closed and heading over to the wardrobe, beginning to yank clothing from within and scattering it out over the bed.

"What are you doing?" Beyond yelped, surprised.

"Pack your things, Beyond. We're not staying here any longer."

"But I like it here!" the murderer whined. "I chose it especially for me, and it's perfect for hiding us from L!"

"Tough shit," Kira spat. "This place is dingy and dirty, and I'm not staying here a moment longer. Besides that, there are strategic reasons for the move."

"No strategy is worth moving," Beyond muttered irritably. "Just what are you planning?"

"Well, that's simple—I've already picked out a hotel to stay in for a few weeks. Once you're all packed up, you're going to go there with me and help me check for wires and security cameras. If I'm going to stay there, I don't want L to find out."

Beyond frowned deeply. "You're saying I an awful lot—as if you're going to be the only one staying there. Tell me, Kira, am I not included in this little plan of yours?"

"Of course you're included," Kira chastised. "But you're not going to be staying with me. I'm sorry, Beyond, but we'll need to part ways for a couple of weeks."

"We're splitting up?" Beyond asked, alarmed. "No. Not a chance in hell, Kira. What if Lawli gets to you while I'm gone? Or worse—the successors. They'll kill you."

"Don't treat me like a child; I know what I'm getting myself into."

Beyond's eyes narrowed dangerously. He darted forward, curling his fingers around Kira's collar and stopping him from dragging more clothing from the wardrobe. He yanked the teen so close that it was no longer possible to focus on him without straining his eyes, his lips brushing those of his partner with every word. "And tell me, Kira…just what is so important that you'd send me away? We're stronger together, and I didn't go through all this trouble to just let you go so easily. If we go somewhere, we go together, got that?"

"Oh, I think you'll change your mind…after I tell you where you're going and what you're doing."

Beyond raised a brow curiously. "And…just what will I be doing? Where will I be going? Do tell, Kira."

"Isn't it obvious?" Kira purred in response, smirking broadly.

"If it was obvious, then I wouldn't have—"

Kira cut him off with ease, raising a hand and brushing it through obsidian locks. "Beyond, my dear…you're going to England."

"England?" he echoed.

"Yes, Beyond—England. I've heard tell of a special school there, you see, and I'm a bit concerned that some of the students will be getting in my way later on. It's better if they're all eliminated, don't you think?"

Beyond's eyes glinted with anticipation as he whispered, "And this school…it wouldn't happen to be an orphanage, would it?"

"Hmm, perhaps." He leaned even closer, and Beyond felt those full lips curve into a sinister smile against his flesh. "Beyond Birthday…you're going to get on the 8:30 flight to England tomorrow morning, and you're going to go back to that orphanage. And once you're there, you're going to sneak in and use those beautiful eyes of yours to take the lives of everyone in that special school."

"What will that do?" Beyond asked, looking all-too-eager to murder the orphans he so despised.

"It will throw L and the successors off their game. They'll be so shaken by the deaths of the other orphans that they won't even realize what's happening, or what my real plan is."

"And what is that plan?"

"Oh, I can't tell you until I'm sure it will work."

Beyond's eyes narrowed. "You're evil."

"Am I?" he asked innocently. "That's too bad, I thought I was justice." Beyond shuddered, and Kira grinned. For as well as Beyond could manipulate him, he wasn't half bad at pulling off the same sort of manipulation—and he knew that any mention of Kira's so-called justice made Beyond shiver with delight. "I thought I was the god of the new world."

A heartbeat later Kira felt Beyond's lips crash onto his, tongue parting his lips without so much as a struggle. "God…" he whispered, barely drawing away. "You're so cruel…"

"Yes," Kira purred, dragging one hand up his lover's back. "I'm a cruel bastard, and you love it."

Beyond's eyes gleamed passionately. "I love you," he growled, latching his teeth onto Kira's neck.

The god chuckled, "You lust after me."

"It's the same thing, in the end," Beyond murmured through a sloppy, vulgar kiss to his lover's collarbone.

Kira pushed him away with a hand, sealing a palm to his partner's chest. "Now, now, Beyond—now isn't the time for such things. You've got a flight to catch in less than twenty-four hours, and in that time we need to get checked in to the hotel I've picked out, get you ready to leave, and make sure the place is secure."

"And…and if we finish all of those things ahead of schedule?"

Kira smirked. "Well then…we'll have some time to play, won't we?"

For a moment, Beyond stared slack-jawed at his lover. But a heartbeat later the words registered in his mind, and he was suddenly darting over to the bed and yanking a suitcase from beneath it, beginning to shove his things into it wildly.

Kira looked away with a dark grin. His eyes darted to his computer monitor, which was still open and at full brightness. On it, a website spewed advertisements happily, attempting to draw in customers to stay at the hotel it advertised—the hotel, as fate would have it, in which Kira would begin to orchestrate his plan.

The Teito Hotel.

†††

Just like every time before, L was staring up at the sky, head tilted back painfully far, fists shoved into his pockets. Just like every time before, L felt terribly, horribly depressed. But unlike every time before, it was not raining. That terrible rain was absent from the sky, the sheets of water completely gone from the ground. Instead, it was terribly sunny. The sun was high and bright in the sky, pounding down relentlessly. And this time, instead of being damp from the downpour of rain, L was damp due to the trickle of sweat making its way down his spine. It was unbearably hot.

Looking around, L was immediately confused. He'd expected to lower his head to find himself standing up on the rooftop once again, with some twisted, evil version of his lover staring back at him through scarlet eyes. But…he wasn't on the roof. In fact, he didn't think he was even in Japan. The landscape around him was vaguely familiar, he realized. He was in the middle of a small clearing surrounded entirely by young, delicate trees, their trunks swaying in the gentle breeze—a breeze that did nothing to dispel the unbearable heat. The ground, perfectly even, was covered in a thick layer of manicured grass, dotted with tiny flecks of color every couple of feet—a sure sign that minuscule flowers were sprouting upwards. The little clearing was clearly taken good care of—and the moment L turned around, he knew why.

Through that little clearing and across a large, open area, there resided a rather large building made entirely of red brick and crisp white trimming around the doors and windows. Even from such a distance, it was impossible for L not to recognize the building, or the grassy fields surrounding it. This place was where L had grown up—at least, for a little over five years. It was the place where he'd received his training. It was the place where he'd became such good friends with A (had they really been friends? L had never had time to figure that little detail out for himself). And…and it was where he'd met Beyond, and where all those terrible, terrible things had taken place.

To put it frankly—it was Wammy's House.

L frowned, taking a few steps towards the seemingly abandoned establishment. It was in pristine condition and obviously still functioning, so he knew that students must still reside there—but he couldn't seem to see any of them. It was rather unusual; normally the fields around the orphanage were teeming with children, some playing, some studying, some curled up beneath an overhang, lost in thought. But now it seemed desolate, and the only sound came from the bending of grass and leaves beneath the wind's influence. L slowly moved closer to the orphanage. He'd barely reached the edge of the clearing when he spotted something odd. There, sitting beneath an open window, was a hauntingly familiar child. And standing just in front of him stood someone that was arguably even more familiar to the great detective.

It…it was A. And there, in front of him, stood a much, much younger version of L himself.

"A?" L called out, though he knew that he was much to far away to hear what the two children were saying. He began to run without realizing what he was doing, darting across the open field with astonishing speed. It wasn't more than a few moments before he was standing directly in front of the two children. "A!" he called again, drawing to a halt a few feet away from the two.

A did not respond. His head was lowered, voice muted. He appeared not to have noticed L—that is to say, the older L's arrival. And likewise, L's younger self seemed to pay no mind to the mysterious man who had just appeared at his right shoulder.

"…got to listen to me!" A was hissing, his head still dipped towards the ground. "L, I know that you don't want to believe me, but Beyond is dangerous—I mean, B is dangerous!"

Ah, that's right…L had nearly forgotten that back in his early days at Wammy's house, before Beyond had defected and gone on his little killing spree in LA, he'd been one of the letters. He'd been B.

L's younger self shook his head. Even in youth, the shadows under his eyes were thick and dark, appearing paint-like in nature. "There is no proof," he was saying. "B is a good person—if he wasn't, then he wouldn't have saved me from that awful man. I can't believe that he's attempting to hurt you."

"He isn't just attempting, he's succeeding!" A's eyes darted from side to side nervously, as if he was afraid of Beyond popping up and attacking him. "L, there's something you don't know—whenever you're not around, whenever the two of us are alone and he knows he won't get caught…he does things to me, L. Horrible things…"

L's eyes widened, understanding striking him heavily even as his younger self sighed, "Even if B is hurting you, what can we do about it? Tell Watari? Get him thrown back onto the streets? No, A…there has to be another way."

L didn't catch A's response. He was too busy staring into the child's eyes, taking in his expression—and he realized, with a horrible, horrible knot growing in his stomach, what he hadn't realized all those years ago. He'd seen that look A was giving him before. He'd seen it on someone very dear to him, on someone he loved dearly—on Light. And he knew then that A hadn't told him everything. B had abused him in far worse ways than he'd let on, and A had tried to tell him. But L hadn't listened. He hadn't had enough experience to recognize what those marks meant, what those bruises entailed. But it shouldn't have come as such a surprise—after all, it wasn't as if there hadn't been warning signs; L had just been blind to them. He'd been so convinced that Beyond was a good person that he hadn't seen the obvious signs of A's abuse—and it had resulted in his death.

"Just listen to me!" A burst out, drawing L's attention back to the scene—no, scene wasn't the right word. This was a memory. "L, please! I…I'm scared, L. I think…I think he's going to kill me!"

"That's absurd."

No! L wanted to scream. No, please, listen to him! He's telling the truth; Beyond will kill him if you don't intervene! But he said nothing, and even if he had, he knew that neither genius would have been able to hear him. He was but a guest in his own mind, a spectator without a voice. He was so caught up in his frustration that he missed the next couple of words.

When he turned his attention back to the conversation, his younger self was saying, "Look, I understand that you're concerned, but B won't kill you. And even if he does happen to try, I won't let him."

A's eyes widened. "You…you really mean that? You'll protect me?"

"Yes, of course I will. I have no doubt that B will not attempt to harm you. But should he attempt such a thing, then I swear to you that I will protect you. No matter what."

The look of relief that crossed A's face was immediate, and it broke L's heart because he knew that his younger self would not keep his promise. "L!" A whined, tears brimming in his eyes. He lurched forward, and L's younger self nearly fell over as A—larger than him on quite a large scale—engulfed him in a fierce hug. "Thank you," he rasped. "Thank you…"

L didn't hear his younger self's response. The world was blurring around him, and for a moment L thought that he might be waking up—for of course, this had to be a dream. But a heartbeat later everything was thrown back into startling clarity, and L found himself standing back in that clearing he'd started in. For a single instant his mind displayed an image of the room where A had…"committed suicide," but he had but a brief moment to take in the splatters of blood, the message written on the walls, and A's lifeless body before his attention was drawn to the scene before him.

Beyond was leaned against one of the trees across the small clearing, his gaze fixed on L's younger self, who was standing a few feet away awkwardly. There was a heavy, unspoken weight between the two of them, and L knew exactly what it was. He remembered this day, this conversation. It had been nearly a week after A's death, and nearly a week after L had promised to protect Beyond from being caught. This was the day. The day that Beyond was going to run away. The day that he would turn around and walk away, never returning to Wammy's House. After this day, L wouldn't see him for almost ten years. And when he did finally see him, the murderer would be lying on a hospital bed, badly burned, barley breathing, and a few days away from being given a life sentence to a California prison. A life sentence, L knew, that he would one day escape, only to flee to Japan and destroy everything L had worked for.

"Why won't you let me be close to you?" Beyond snarled, and L realized with a start that he'd stepped into the mid-point of the conversation. "I've tried everything, done everything for you! And you push me away, no matter what I attempt!" The murderer stormed forward, fingers curling in the other's collar, shaking him roughly. "What do I have to do to make you trust me?"

L's younger self looked frightened. And of course he would—this was well before Watari had begun teaching the students of Wammy's House to hide their emotions. He saw no danger in allowing Beyond to know just how afraid he was. "You know why I can't trust you, B." His voice was shaking. "I'll protect you from judgment, but I can't be close to you like you want."

"Don't say that!" Beyond spat furiously. "Stop saying that right now! If you don't stop that and let me be what A was to you, then I'll—!"

"You'll what?" L whispered in response. "You'll make me commit suicide, like A? Will I be next, B? Will I be the one sprawled out over the desk, a message painted on the wall in my own blood? What will you do then, when you can't blame my supposed suicide on my stress levels? I'm ranked above you; I'm more intelligent. There is no reason for me to commit suicide and you know it. So if you act, Watari will figure out that my death wasn't my own doing, and you'll be caught. I have nothing to fear from you."

Such confident words. Such arrogance. Beyond's eyes narrowed. "You have nothing to fear? You think that I can't hurt you, Lawliet?"

"Stop calling me that!" the other child practically screamed. "You're not supposed to know my name! You're not supposed to know anything about me! Why can't you just stay away and let me forget about this disaster? A is dead because of you, B! You can deny it all you want, you can play it off as a suicide, but we know the truth. We know that you killed him!"

Beyond didn't seem to be listening. His brow furrowed, and he said slowly, "You…you think you don't have to be scared of me? Do you think that just because I want to be close to you…I'll treat you like anything more than the scum you are?"

L winced as his younger self's eyes widened comically. He…he knew what was coming next. "Scum?" he echoed. "You…you think I'm scum?"

"You're the worst kind of scum," Beyond snarled. "The kind that pretends to be your friend, then turns around and stabs you in the back!"

"I saved you!" L protested. "I saved you from being locked away! If I told Watari what you did, then he'd cart you off somewhere I'd never see you again, or worse! I'm the one protecting you—so how the hell have I stabbed you in the back?"

Beyond didn't seem to realize how flawed his logic was. His hands were suddenly at the other child's collar, wrenching his white shirt up over his head.

"B?" L's younger self croaked, stunned into submissiveness.

Beyond didn't respond. He threw L's shirt away, where it pooled on the grassy floor of the clearing. The next moment, B's foot hooked around L's ankles, and the dark-haired child was suddenly laid out flat on his back, the equally dark-haired murderer pinning him with ease. "You think you're safe from me?" Beyond snarled viciously. "You think that just because you didn't give me away to Watari, I'm indebted to you, and therefore unable to raise a hand against you?"

"B, please!" L squeaked, his tone unusually high, even for a child. "What are you doing?"

"Look around you, Lawliet. We're surrounded by trees and separated from the orphanage by a rather large field. As long as we're out here, no one can hear us, and no one will see what happens to you."

"You—are you going to kill—?"

"Kill you?" Beyond sneered. "Maybe. We'll see where this goes."

It took but a moment for Beyond's hands to flip L onto his front. The child keened in distress, the sound soft and high. He was clearly terrified. L remembered the terror well—he hadn't felt such an emotion often in his twenty-four years of life, but he remembered each time horribly well. This had been his first experience with the sickening emotion called fear.

Beyond smirked at the sound emitting from his victim's throat, straddling L's body and pinning his arms to the ground with both knees. The younger male turned his head to one side, pressing his cheek into the grass. "Aww, what's wrong?" Beyond purred mockingly. "Having a hard time breathing, Lawliet? Are you uncomfortable?"

"B!" L gasped out, shaking beneath the murderer's grasp. "Let me go!"

"Hmm…no, I don't think so, Lawli." Beyond reached around to his belt, and a moment later there was a large kitchen knife clutched in one hand.

"W-where did you get that?" L stuttered.

"The kitchen, where else?" Beyond pressed the tip of the blade to the back of L's shoulder, pressing in just lightly enough to draw a drop of blood. "Now, hold still—I don't want to mess up."

"Mess up?" L echoed fearfully. "What do you mean? B, stop this at once!"

"No. You've angered me, dearest Lawliet. I've been so kind to you. I've given you every opportunity to come to your senses and let me be close to you. And yet you keep resisting me! You sit there, legs drawn up to your chest, and pretend that I don't exist, despite my kindness. You're just so intent upon denying me, so intent upon turning me away. And you've made me so very angry, I just have to take it out on someone—and here you are! Helpless, afraid…" he grinned toothily. "You're going to belong to me, Lawliet. Me and only me."

"You're behaving erratically!" L spat out, masking his fear with anger. "Unhand me! I belong to no one!"

"Not yet," Beyond agreed. "But if I put my name on you, I get to keep you, right? That's how it works in school."

"No—B, what are you—?"

L screamed. That knife had sliced straight through his flesh with ease, cutting deeply without a sign of relenting. Blood welled up thickly in the long, thin wound, splashing up over Beyond's hands. L—the real L—was unable to watch, his vision tearing away from his younger self the instant Beyond raised a blood-soaked hand to his lips. He closed his eyes, wincing as his younger self screamed again. Beyond had driven that knife back into his shoulder, and was dragging it down in what L knew would soon be two incredibly intricate initials—B.B.

"Feel it, Lawliet," Beyond snarled viciously, wrenching the knife down, forming a slightly curved line. "Feel your flesh splitting…" He gave a particularly harsh yank, and the victimized child whimpered.

L couldn't stomach the rest. Every time his younger self cried out, every time he let a pained noise escape that raw throat, he felt as if he were about to throw up. He'd forgotten this incident, had put it behind him—but now he was being forced to relive it. And, he realized, in a way, he was also being forced to watch what Beyond had done to Light. For, of course, L wasn't the only one who had to wear Beyond's initials around on his back. This same, twisted ritual had been carried out on his lover. Beyond had done this—he'd pinned Light down, stripped him of his shirt, sliced into his flesh with demented relish. And that, mixed with the disgust he felt at seeing his younger self pinned down and victimized, forced L to swallow repeatedly to hold back bile.

It went on for what felt like forever, lasting even longer than L remembered. And once it was finally over, Beyond drew that bloodstained kitchen knife from his victim's back, flicking droplets of scarlet from the steel, watching how they painted the grass red. L's younger self lay dormant beneath him, body already going into shock. He didn't' move, not even when his tormentor stabbed the blade into the blood-slickened grass inches from his face, getting to his feet with a savage grin. "You swore to protect me," Beyond reminded him with a sneer. "Will you keep your promise, I wonder? Will you still protect me after I've done such a terrible thing?"

L's younger self had no response. He stared blankly straight ahead, too shaken to speak.

Beyond snorted sadistically, amused. "As fun as this has been, I think I should be going now—Watari will be looking for the both of us, and I don't want to be here when he figures out what I've done to his precious prodigy." He shook his hands, flicking blood from his fingertips, and shoved them into his pockets carelessly. He took a few steps towards the edge of the clearing, then paused, throwing a glance at L over his shoulder. "Oh…and L?"

The child didn't answer.

Beyond smirked darkly as he raised a hand to his eyes, covering them for a heartbeat. A heartbeat later, two contact lenses fell to the forest floor, and Beyond lowered his hand with a swish. He had worn blue contacts at first, and had switched to black after meeting L—but now L's younger self saw his tormentor's real eyes for the first time. They were a bloody, violent orange, rimmed with yellow and red. And as the sun began to set, casting thick, dark shadows around the clearing, Beyond's face became shrouded in the ink-like light, and his eyes appeared to glow in the darkness. He looked, L reflected, like the demon he was. Beyond's eyes glittered dangerously, the smirk never leaving his face. Oh and "L…" he purred, blinking hard, no doubt adjusting to the absence of his contact lenses. "…I renounce my title as B. From now on, I'm Beyond—and don't you forget it."

Beyond turned, stalking out of the clearing, and the scene changed again. Now it was years later, and L saw himself standing in the main hall of the orphanage, staring at a younger version of Near. The white-haired child was covered in mud, his normally pristine clothing spattered with the stuff. He was shaking, eyes wide, tears streaming down his cheeks. L remembered this moment with horrifying clarity. Near hadn't been more than six at the time, and wasn't yet fully in control of his emotions. After a twenty-four hour period of remaining mysteriously gone from the orphanage, he'd come bursting back into the main hall shrieking for L. When he'd came down to the main hall, he'd found Near like this—a complete mess.

"Mello is gone!" the child was wailing. "There was a strange man with dark hair, and I tried to fight him, but he threw me off, and I got knocked out! When I woke up, Mello was gone, and Matt—Matt was—!"

"Where was Matt?" L's younger shadow requested calmly. "Near, what has happened?"

"Matt's still unconscious," Near blubbered. "I couldn't carry him, so I came back here as fast as I could!"

L knelt in front of his future successor, arms rising to clasp his shoulders comfortingly. "You said that Mello was taken away by a strange man. Describe him, please."

L—the real L—knew what Near would say before he even opened his mouth. "He…he was tall. He had dark hair and orange eyes, and he was slouching. He looked like you, L!"

L didn't have a chance to hear his younger self's reaction, but he knew exactly what it would have been. He remembered all too well the flash of horror that had torn through him at the realization that Beyond had taken one of his successors away. And a boy no older than six, at that.

There was another scene change. This time L had only a brief moment to take in the space before him, but he knew immediately what he was seeing. He recognized the bloody room, the splattered walls and floor, the rusted chains hanging from the ceiling. And he recognized the crumpled form of Mello, thrown messily against a wall and left unconscious while Beyond escaped. He knew that if he'd been forced to watch the scene further, Matt and Near would come rushing forward, rolling their fallen comrade over and trying to stem the flow of blood that gushed from the young child's various wounds. He would have seen them staggering under his weight as they carried him to the waiting car.

Another scene change. L saw Beyond's first murder in Los Angeles. He saw the victims' marked chest, the thin line across his throat. Then he saw the second murder, then the third. He saw Beyond locking himself inside a room and drenching himself in gasoline before setting himself on fire in an effort to create the perfect case, one unsolvable for L himself. He saw the flames fail, saw Beyond's badly burned body fall to the ground. He saw the paramedics rushing him to the hospital, desperately trying to stabilize his failing heart. He saw himself standing before Beyond in the hospital, telling him once and for all that he had won. He saw Beyond disappearing into that California prison, presumably never to return. And then he did return, and L saw the murderer's, grizzly murder scene in Light's hospital room. He saw Beyond snatching Light away, saw him holding a knife to the teen's throat and threatening death. He saw him falling back, blood spewing from his ruined hand, howling in pain. He saw him running away, escaping, fleeing to regain his strength and set yet another one of his plots into motion.

And then he saw new things. He saw Beyond standing before him, Kira at his side, the world falling apart beneath his feet. He saw flames racing across the globe, consuming, purifying all in its path. He saw the murderer leaning over him, a knife clutched in his left hand as he screeched something about L's inevitable death. And then, finally, he saw the flash of a knife, and felt the bite of steel ripping through his throat. At some point he'd stopped seeing himself in third person and had transitioned to first—and so when he died, when he felt the last drops of blood drain from his body, it was him, not some shadow or past self.

Now L wasn't sure where he was. The world had gone quiet around him, and he found himself drifting along in what appeared to be a sea of red water. It was very peaceful. It made him want to sleep, even though he knew that he was already sleeping. It made him want to rest. Perhaps he would. Perhaps he'd allow that water to carry him away. It sounded relaxing, to let that gentle current carry him along.

Perhaps that water wasn't so bad.

And then, just as L's eyes slipped closed, his whole body jolted, and—

L opened his eyes. He was lying flat on his back, staring blankly up the ceiling as his breathing slowly evened out. That nightmare…it wasn't the first he'd had of that nature. It wasn't the first nightmare he'd had that forced him to relive every single one of his encounters with Beyond. But still, it was rattling—he hadn't had such a dream in several years. And now, much to L's horror, he had many more encounters with Beyond of which to dream about. It made falling asleep that much more horrifying.

"L?" a cautious voice asked. "Are you awake?"

The detective slowly pushed himself up, leaning back against the headboard of the bed he was lying in. He wasn't sure what time of day it was, or when he'd fallen into such a deep slumber—but he did recognize that voice, and it took a mere moment for him to locate its source.

Near. He stood at the foot of L's bed, Matt and Mello not far away. He was completely smooth and unruffled, a far cry from the boy L had seen in his dream. But that wasn't a surprise—that particular event had taken place well over nine years ago, and Near had matured greatly since then. As had Mello, who still bore the scars from that horrific event—though he was quite skilled at hiding them. And Matt, of course, had matured as well. Though, L noted, he was the least changed of all the successors. He was still obsessed with video games, and still wearing those orange goggles—which had been a tenth birthday present from Mello. It had been a joke, really, but he hadn't taken them off for more than a few hours at a time since.

"L?" Near repeated.

"Oh, yes…" L murmured, shaking himself out of his thoughts. He was shaking slightly, to his irritation, no doubt from his dream. "I apologize, but I had a rather jarring dream. Forgive me if I do not seem at full capacity."

"You rushed out before we could tell you the plan," Near said carefully.

Ah, of course. L had already put his conversation with Soichiro out of his head—though now that Near reminded him of it, it was all that he could think about. Soichiro didn't approve of his relationship with Light—or rather, he was convinced that L had treated Light like…like a pet rather than a lover. "Our plan?" he echoed, realizing that Near was waiting for a response. He appeared to be growing increasingly concerned. "You already told me our plan," he reminded him harshly. "You told me that we were going to hunt Kira and Beyond down and send them to their executions."

L wasn't blind to the look that passed between his successors. He didn't know what it meant, but he knew that it wasn't good.

"Yes, well…" Near sighed. "I must admit, I told you that without speaking to the other successors first. We had a little meeting, and we've decided that perhaps I was a bit harsh. You were right, L—we shouldn't just kill them without at least attempting to get Light back."

L was immediately suspicious. "No. You wouldn't change your mind without a good reason. You're lying, aren't you? You want me to help you track Kira down, and then you're just going to kill him. Beyond too."

"No," Near assured calmly. "L, please listen to me—I am genuinely sorry that I acted the way I did; I foolishly allowed my emotions to get the better of me without applying logic and reasoning to the situation."

"Explain yourself," L demanded, neither accepting nor denying Near's apology.

And so he did. In one, simple sentence, Near both saved and destroyed L's entire world.

"We have come to the conclusion that destroying the Death Note will save Light."

L's breath caught in his throat. For a long, tense moment he was completely unable to breathe. Destroy the notebook…save Light? Was it really that simple? And if it was…L had foolishly let Kira take the Death Note away without so much as attempting to destroy it. "You think that destroying the notebook will be the same as relinquishing ownership?" he asked sharply, his voice rising without his consent.

"Yes, we are almost certain. When the three of us spoke of our plan, Mello was kind enough to inform me that I was acting idiotically, and developed the idea of burning the notebook to save Light. Matt agreed with him, naturally, and it didn't take long for me to realize that the both of them were most likely correct. And even if I hadn't been convinced, I've been outvoted. We've already told the task force, and they want to go along with Mello's plan as well. So that's what we plan to do—we will track Kira and Beyond down, take the notebooks, and burn them. And if that doesn't work, we have agreed to allow you to confine Kira until you can figure out how to purge him from the mind of the one you love."

L was speechless. Just a few hours ago he'd been contemplating how he would sneak Kira away from the successors in order to get Light back—and now, it appeared that Near was just…letting him have his way? He turned his gaze on the other two successors. "Is this true?" he demanded, not allowing himself to believe Near just yet.

Mello shrugged. "Yeah, sure is. Look, L, I may not like Light, but that doesn't mean that I want to kill him without attempting to get rid of Kira first. If you love him, that's good enough for me—we'll do our best to save him. Quite frankly, Near was way out of line when he made that damn plan without consulting us first. We would never have let him say those things to you if he'd known."

"Matt?" L asked, turning his gaze on the third successor. He trusted Mello and Near, he really did—but Matt had never been able to hide his emotions very well, and he was terrible at lying. If this was just a ruse, and the successors were planning to use him to find Beyond and Kira, then the giveaway would lie with Matt. He would be unable to lie to L—he'd never been able to get away with anything when he dealt with the detective. "Matt, please tell me—is it the truth?"

The brunette froze. His head had remained down throughout the whole of the conversation, his eyes locked on the Gameboy clutched in both hands. The shouldering cigarette protruding from his mouth quivered slightly, and the next moment one hand shot up to hold it steady between two fingers. The room seemed suddenly filled with tension as Matt slowly, oh so slowly, raised his head. He stared at L through orange-tinted goggles. And then, one hand grasped said goggles, and Matt pulled them down around his neck. "L," he began, eyes locking firmly onto the detective's. "I swear to you, we believe that destroying the Death Note will save Light. We intend to track Beyond and Kira down, and we intend to destroy both Death Notes, saving Light, and sending Beyond off to jail—permanently, this time. Nothing we are doing is an attempt to deceive you. We are not lying to you. We are not attempting to pull the wool over your eyes."

"Promise me, Matt. No—all of you, promise me."

Near was the first to speak, his voice loud and clear. "I promise."

"Yeah," Mello agreed, "I promise as well."

L's gaze turned to Matt. He stared at L, eyes brimming with an unreadable emotion, throat visibly constricting as he swallowed thickly. "L…" he rasped, and Near and Mello were both fixing him with sharp glares, even as his lips closed momentarily, his tongue darting out to run over them. And then he seemed to steady himself, that strange emotion fleeing his eyes, his body growing still. He removed the cigarette from between his lips, and then he spoke. "L," he said again, "I promise."

L's posture deflated immediately. For a moment he'd been convinced that the successors' plan was a lie—Matt had seemed especially nervous. But if he were lying, then L knew that he would never have been able to look him dead in the eyes and promise the things he had. It had to be the truth—if Matt swore by it, then it was undoubtedly the truth. He felt a flood of warmth fill him. He'd misjudged his successors—they really were trying to help him, weren't they? They were good, honest people…and he valued them greatly. With their help, he could save Light. "Thank you," he said softly, allowing a small smile to creep its way across his lips. "Thank you for letting me save Light. I know that it's not the logical course of action, considering the circumstances, but just the same, you're going to help me do it—and for that, I cannot thank you enough."

"Yeah," Mello responded cheerily. "No problem, L. We know how much you care about the guy."

"Of course," Near agreed calmly. "Although it would most likely be easier to kill them, this will be better for everyone involved. Using the method of destroying the Death Notes, no one will have to die."

"No one else will have to die," Matt corrected darkly, and all present knew that he was thinking of Aizawa.

"Yes," L murmured in response. "No one else…"

Near was suddenly at L's side, offering him his laptop. "Now, L—I don't believe you wish to return to the investigation room quite yet, not after your fight with Soichiro—but would you consider continuing to work on the case? We haven't managed to locate Kira or Beyond just yet, and we'd appreciate your help on the matter."

L hesitated, not reaching for the laptop.

"L…" Near sighed. "With all due respect, there is no reason for you to cease working—if you're scared of somehow provoking Kira, then you shouldn't be, for there is nothing else that he can take from you. You've lost the only thing you really care about, so you shouldn't have any trouble working to get that thing back."

L shook his head darkly. "You're wrong."

Near frowned. "What?"

Near…he really was a fool at times, wasn't he? "You think I have nothing left to lose?" L asked rhetorically, a small smile on his face. "You're wrong. There is still much that Kira can take away from me."

"I fail to follow your meaning."

"Isn't it obvious?" Now L's small smile broadened, turning genuinely pleased in nature. "I have you. The three of you—you're more than just my successors, you're my friends. The fact that you'd sacrifice logic in order to save Light proves it. That's why I believe that I still have much to lose. Because if Kira kills you, I'd be devastated. I'd be losing some of my only friends in this world. Some of my best friends." He reached out slowly, taking the offered laptop. He would work with his successors, of course—he had no reason not to. He'd simply been frozen for a moment, frozen as he realized that at any moment, Kira and Beyond could kill them all. "Thank you," he murmured. "Really. You truly are some of my only friends."

Matt suddenly lurched forward, his Gameboy clattering from his fingers. For a long moment he simply stared at L, chest heaving, a nauseated expression on his face.

"Matt?" L questioned, concerned. The successor looked physically ill, as if he were about to vomit.

Matt's fists clenched at his sides, and the cigarette he'd been smoking fell to the ground, the ashes scattering out around his feet in a thin layer. "L!" he choked out, conflict in his eyes. "L, there's something you should know—!"

L frowned, gazing up at him confusedly. "Matt? What is it?" What could possibly be troubling him?

"Yes, Matt," Near agreed stiffly. "What's the problem?"

The third ranked successor shot Near a pained look. His lips parted for a moment, and he was clearly about to speak—but then he halted, the words on the tip of his tongue failing to take off. "Oh…" he trailed off, posture deflating depressingly. He slowly stooped, gathering his Gameboy and the half-smoked cigarette, disposing of the latter in the nearby trash bin. "It's just that…well, you know, we care about you a lot, okay? So we'd never…we'd never try to hurt you."

L felt a small prickle of unease at those words, but he pushed it down. He was probably just being paranoid again. "Of course, Matt," he said warmly. "I cannot thank you enough for your aid." He settled his laptop over his thighs, opening the lid determinedly. "You have inspired me." He began typing, then paused, looking up at his successors. "Oh, I apologize—it was rather rude of me to begin working without dismissing you. Please, return to the investigation room at once. Let's work on catching Kira and Beyond together." With that, and without waiting to see if his successors left the room or not, L returned his gaze to the computer. He was the most focused he'd been in the three or four days since Kira's takeover. Now he had a clear goal in mind, and the assurance that Kira would not be killed prematurely—and it was feeding him the confidence he needed to continue working rather than melting back into the puddle of despair he'd degraded to.

He was so focused, in fact, that he did not notice the meaningful look that passed between his successors, congratulating each other on a job well done.

†††

Two weeks passed without incident.

There were no abnormal deaths—only a mass of reported heart attacks among criminals, as per usual. The rates of killing had decreased slightly, but only by a few dozen a day. There was not yet a way—at least, not one that L or the successors had discovered—to track down the two murderers. They remained cloaked in shadow, no doubt planning their next move carefully.

And so, for lack of new evidence, things went on as they normally did. L found that he had regained some of his reasoning skills, although the pain of Light's departure hadn't faded in the least. But now that he had a definite goal in mind—the destruction of the Death Note—he was able to push that pain down like he had his entire life, hiding his emotions behind the mask he'd barely been able to make presentable. And thanks to that mask he was now able to examine evidence critically once again, much to the relief of the successors. But unfortunately, with his newly discovered ability to think logically, his ability sleep had vanished, most likely due to the pain he was suppressing. Even when he could sleep, he was plagued by horrible nightmares. The bags under his eyes were darker than ever, and he caught the successors trying to slip sedatives into his coffee more than once. He didn't blame them. After all… they were nearing the end of their second week trying to track Kira and Beyond down, and L had barely slept a wink. Now that he knew—or at least, strongly suspected—that destroying the notebooks would return Light to his former self, he couldn't bring himself to rest. He had to find Kira and Beyond. He had to get close enough to destroy the notebook. He had to get his lover back.

But unfortunately, things hadn't gone well so far. Beyond and Kira both knew how to cover their tracks, and cover them well—and whenever one made a mistake, the other was there to catch it before anyone noticed. It was an endless loop of absent leads and groundless assumptions. More coffee was consumed daily than ever before; dark bags began to appear under everyone's eyes, not just L's. Innocent people were still dying, but the rate had slowed considerably. Kira wasn't stupid. He knew exactly how many people to leave alive so that the world wouldn't collapse in on itself. He was teasing them. Teasing L using his lover's face, his body, attempting to throw him off. And as unfortunate as it was, the attempt was working. L was almost constantly distracted, be it by the alluring call of sugar or by the swell of agony in his chest every time he saw something that reminded him of Light, something that brought the memory of the beautiful teen to the forefront of his mind. Perhaps his eyes would graze Light's empty seat in the investigation room, his hair products and body wash in the shower, his empty side of the bed, or worse—the handcuffs. L had been too shocked to think about the cuffs at first. But after his head had cleared slightly he'd removed them from the drawer in which they were placed after Light requested to be taken to see the task force. L had proceeded to lock one end around his left wrist, wind the chain around his forearm a few times, and lock the other end around his arm as well. It served as a sort of large, heavy bracelet—every clink of the chain reminding L that all of this was his fault. And Soichiro… he was right. The man hadn't spoken a word to L after their previous conversation. But even if he had, what could L say to him? "Hey, I'm sorry I got your son possessed by a mass-murderer. Are we cool?" No. L figured that he at least had to forgive himself before he dared to ask forgiveness from anyone else. And he wasn't an idiot. He was never going to forgive himself. He would die like this, he was sure, unless he retrieved Light.

And to retrieve Light, he had to burn the notebook…and to burn the notebook, he had to find Kira and Beyond…and to find Kira and Beyond, he had to stop distracting himself with trivial thoughts such as the ones that were currently flooding his mind. If he wanted to win, then he had to focus. If he didn't, and if he couldn't find some clue that he'd missed, then it would all be over.

It was with this mentality that he hoped, prayed that there would be a break in the case, some miraculous mistake made by Kira and Beyond, no matter how small, that could give him even the beginning of a clue as to where to search for them. And then, after nearly two weeks of hoping…

"L, something has occurred."

L looked up from the computer screen blearily. He vaguely heard rustling from the seats beside him, and he knew that Matt, Mello, and Near were turning towards his monitor curiously. The rest of the task force had already gone home—it was well after one in the morning—so they weren't around to hear what would be said. "Yes, Watari?" L rasped, his voice low and tired. "What is it?"

There was a moment of hesitation. "I'm afraid that there have been hundreds of deaths in England."

L's mind went blank for one, terrifying moment. "Ah…" he broke off, mouth feeling as if cotton had been shoved forcibly between his teeth. "Heart attacks?"

"Yes."

L's eyes slid closed, blocking out the soft words the successors were exchanging behind him. The mask, he reminded himself. Keep the mask on. I will not allow myself to break down once more. This was odd… so far, Kira's killings had been centered mostly in Japan, with scattered deaths throughout the US and Europe. For the deaths to suddenly be concentrated in England… "He's pressuring me. No, he's pressuring all of us. But what does he want us to do? Back off? Fight him? After all, Kira hates to lose, and in order to win he has to have an opponent."

"I can't answer that," Watari replied evenly. "All I can tell you is that the number of deaths is growing steadily there each day—and those being targeted are all innocents."

A hand ran through dark hair. "I understand. Please leave me now."

Watari was gone a moment later, leaving L to stare at the computer screen, unable to register any of the information on it. The successors' voices were growing in volume, but he didn't hear them, nor did he make any attempt to join their conversation. He simply stared unseeingly at the monitor before him, mind whirring away frantically. Then, he did something that he barely remembered.

He smiled.

It didn't quite reach his eyes, but L still curved his lips in a way that had once been so familiar. "This is it," he said aloud. "This is his mistake." Hope swirled in his core. If Kira was doing what he thought he was, then Beyond had to go to England in order to carry out Kira's plan. That meant that they no longer had each other's support. They no longer had each other to help with their plans. They were alone.

Yes… this was good. This was where Kira would make his fatal mistake.

"This is our chance," Near announced, glancing at L for confirmation. L nodded proudly at his successor, gesturing for him to continue. "Kira and Beyond are separated—one, probably Beyond, is in England, and the other, probably Kira, is here. One notebook is most likely with Beyond, the other with Kira. Each possesses a shinigami, but without each other's help they will be more prone to mistakes. We must be especially watchful during this time."

"Watchful it is," Mello grumbled irritably. "As if we haven't been watchful enough over the past two weeks…"

"But that's not all," Near insisted in a soft tone, ignoring Mello. "If Kira is having Beyond concentrate his killings in England, then…"

"Yes," L agreed. "You're right."

"What will we do about it?" Near asked quietly. "Should we inform Roger of the impending danger? He could evacuate the orphans, and—"

"No," L responded, his voice hushed. "It is already too late."

That drew Matt's attention. His head snapped up, eyes blazing furiously as he snapped, "What the hell, L? You're not going to do anything? You're not even going to warn them?"

"There's no point. Beyond isn't an idiot—he most likely waited until he already knew the names of all those residing in the orphanage before he began killing innocents in England. That way, any efforts to evacuate would be futile, for he would already know everything he had to know in order to kill them all."

Matt's eyes blazed. "You said that it's likely, L. That means that there's still a chance he hasn't already found their names, right? So get one of your agents over there and warn Roger about the monster that's coming for him, for all the orphans! If there's even the slightest chance that we can save them, then let's take it!"

L dipped his head, running a thumb over his bottom lip, but didn't respond.

Near, seeing his hesitation, spoke up immediately. "Please, Matt, calm yourself. It's true that Beyond has most likely already written the names of the orphans. But still, I, at least, fully intend to warn the residents of the orphanage. I'll send an urgent message to Roger as soon as we're done here, and I fully intend to contact Wedy and Aiber so we can send them to the orphanage as insurance. This way, if there's still a chance to save the orphans, we'll find a way to do it."

Matt's voice was low as he spoke, trembling with every word. "You realize that if he succeeds, everyone in Wammy's House will die."

Silence. Long, impenetrable silence.

Then, "Yes, I do realize that," Near murmured. "That is why we are going to do everything in our power to make sure that Beyond does not succeed." He raised his head, locking eyes with Matt. "Like I said, Kira and Beyond are more prone to mistakes when they're apart. Now is the best time to catch them both. Now, before they have the chance to join together once more."

Matt looked away at once. "I don't like this," he growled in a low tone, and the look that flashed between the three successors was one that held meaning that L could not understand. "I don't like any of this."

"You don't have to like it," Mello shot. "Just go along with it. We'll send Wedy and Aiber to England, and warn Roger so he can evacuate the orphanage. And while that's happening, we'll do our best to track down Kira and Beyond while they're separated."

Matt's gaze didn't rise from the floor, but he still nodded shortly. "Yeah," he grumbled, "Whatever."

And with that, the successors went back to work, faces turned away from L. But L did not return to his monitor. He stared ahead, eyes locked on the wall, and thought. Beyond was going to try to murder the orphans. He was going to try to distract L and the successors using their deaths…but distract them from what? L chewed on his thumb thoughtfully. Destroy the notebooks…relinquish possession…send Beyond to England…distract us from something…one notebook with each person…one shinigami with each person…what does it mean?

He had a feeling that he was missing something, something major. Something that should have been obvious…

And then he remembered it. Something Light had told him, something he'd said about Rem, the shinigami possessing him. Rem cared especially for Misa. Rem would not leave Misa's side. And while L seriously doubted that Kira had allowed Rem to go back to Misa, there was still a chance…

"Rem," L whispered aloud, though none of his successors heard. "Rem knows where Kira is…and he's alone, so he won't have Beyond or Ryuk to help him. If I can just convince her, just find a way to get her to tell me where Kira is…"

L smiled, and this time it was genuine. This was it. Rem would be the piece that changed the game. She would be the pawn that reached the heart of the enemy, the pawn that was switched out for a queen. But, L wondered, would that pawn-turned-queen desire to help him?

Well, L thought, composing himself once more. I suppose only time will tell.

†††

The child shinigami flew over the red sea.

His features twisted in disgust as he looked around him—everywhere, no matter where he turned his gaze, was bathed in red. It had been a long while since he'd been in Light's mind, admittedly. He almost felt bad, leaving the boy to run endlessly with no chance of escape. He'd left him to die, in a manner of speaking—and now here he was, flying over the sea that had consumed Light Yagami without so much as a shred of mercy. He'd been watching, of course when Kira had pushed the teen off that snowy cliff and into the water below. He'd watched as Light sank through endless scarlet, his body leaving trails of pink bubbles behind until finally, after what felt like eons, he settled against the ocean floor. And, of course, he'd watched as the boy's lungs filled with water, as his eyes had slipped closed, and as his heart nearly stopped beating entirely. The water—it was like a sort of sedative, a sick type of poison that kept Light submissive and easily controlled. The child shinigami wasn't sure how much the boy remembered, or if he could see what was happening outside his own mind, but he was sure that Light wouldn't be waking up without help, not so long as that water was acting as a powerful sort of liquid hypnosis.

He was there to provide that help.

He sensed something radiating from the water below. Ah, yes, he'd know that presence anywhere. The child shinigami paused, hovering above the water for a moment. And then, soaring on wings visible only to him, he climbed several feet into the air, spun on axis, and plunged headfirst into the water. The stuff swirled around him, engulfing him entirely, attempting to corrupt him as it had Light.

He's strong, the child realized, feeling the water tugging at him powerfully, urging him to fall asleep. He's even managing to affect me…

The child continued to swim downwards, propelling himself through the scarlet waves. The water wished for him to sleep, for him to slip away like Light…but it wasn't strong enough to overwhelm him. He kept up his swift pace, eyes scanning the ocean floor. Although the scarlet water appeared thick and cloudy from above, it was actually crystal clear from within—though, of course, everything was tinted slightly red. And so it was quite easy for the child shinigami to locate the dark lump on the ocean floor—a lump that just so happened to be in the shape of one Light Yagami.

A moment later, he'd reached him. The shinigami reached out and gathered Light's collar in one hand, tugging him upwards. The teen didn't move a muscle, nor did he show any sign that he knew he was being touched.

"Light," the child urged, his voice distorted by water. And when he got no response, he said it again. "Light…"

There was no response—not that the child shinigami had expected one. He shifted his grip to the back of Light's neck and turned his gaze skyward. Without a second thought, he began to move upwards, pulling the teen's inert body with him. His heart was barely beating, his lungs were completely filled with water, and his skin was cold and clammy to the touch. Yes, this was the time…this was the time the child shinigami would awaken him. This was the time he would pull him from the sedative-like water, wrenching him from Kira's deceptive influence.

"You won't be able to regain control if I do this," he murmured to the unconscious boy. "You won't have the strength to fight, but you will have consciousness once again. Do not fear, Light…this is how you are meant to be. Don't you understand? I had to let him win; I had to let Kira consume you. I had to do it in order to set this world on its desired path."

They were close to the surface now. Just a few more feet, and they would break free from the water's grasp.

"Come with me, Light," the child whispered, though the teen still showed no signs of awakening. "It is time for you awaken—and more importantly, it is time for us to have a little chat. You have questions for me, no? Let us clarify all that you do not understand."

And with those words fresh on his tongue, the child shinigami pulled Light up the few remaining feet, and broke the surface of the water.

Now, on to important matters: school is beginning, and seeing as I am still enrolled in said school, it's possible that I'll have to resign myself to posting twice a week instead of three times—but I'm going to do everything I can to keep up the thrice weekly schedule (including editing pretty much every remaining moment of break), so let's cross our fingers and hope I can pull it off.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please don't forget to leave me a review if you did!