DeathNote 2014

*Inspired by DeathNote* Orphaned at a young age, Nero Kagami was raised in England by his adopted parents. He always knew he was adopted, and had always been curious what happened to his parents. The revelation that arises - and the mysterious notebook that he picks up - leads him to seek further answers and, ultimately, retribution.
But there is someone else in the background, who may have the means to stop Nero before he's even started...


4. Revelations

Chapter 4 - Revelations

How To Use The Death Note

“The owner of the Note can recognise the image and voice of its original owner, i.e. a god of death.”

“The human who uses this Note can neither go to Heaven nor Hell.”


Later that day…

Nero threw his school bag down in the armchair and sat down on the sofa, resisting the urge to switch on the television. ‘Is that you home, Nero?’ his adopted mother, Renee, called through, most likely from the kitchen.

‘Yeah, it’s me,’ Nero replied, half-grunting. He didn’t know why, but his conversation with JM had made him consider his real parents, and that had left him with a series of thoughts playing in his head.

Besides, he was almost seventeen. He had a right to know what had happened to his parents.

‘Did you get a lot of homework, today?’ Renee asked, her voice now closer.

‘Hm…just a bit. I did most of the work in the lessons.’

‘As usual,’ Renee chuckled. A moment later she entered the living room wearing a neat, retro-style dress, as was her custom.

Nero shrugged. He prided himself on having a small ego, even if such a statement seemed contradictory, and therefore simply focused on doing well and improving instead of stooping to the level of the others. Such was not ego, only common sense.

‘Are you going to respond?’ Renee asked, mildly frustrated by Nero’s blank expression.

Nero looked up at his adopted mother and forced a smile. ‘Renee,’ he said, having come to an agreement years ago that he address his adopted parents on a first name basis. ‘When will John be getting home?’

John was Nero’s adopted father, who worked as an accountant in Nero’s hometown – adopted, like his parents – and was often home late. It was a Wednesday, however, and he was usually home early.

‘He should be home any minute now,’ Renee replied, looking back through the doorway and into the kitchen. ‘Oh bother! I forgot to dry that cup!’ She rushed from the room with a flap of her dress.

Nero sighed and shook his head, just as the door opened and John, dressed to the nines, stepped in and threw off his rain-soaked coat.

‘God damn it!’ John shook his arms to get rid of the last traces of water. ‘This is my best suit!’

Nero presented John with a half-smile. ‘You only have two suits, John.’

John smiled back. ‘Ah, but this is the better one.’ He wandered over and clapped his hand on Nero’s shoulder. ‘You seem rather reserved tonight. What’s troubling you?’

Nero gently, and possibly patronisingly, patted John’s hand. ‘It can wait.’

‘How long, Nero? We may not be your real parents, but we still love you,’ John said, leaning down a bit.

The nod towards his real parents stung slightly; nonetheless, Nero turned his head a fraction and smiled. ‘Suppertime. I shall explain at suppertime.’


At the dining table, Nero sat looking across the table at Renee and John, his plate almost empty. He could feel John watching him, waiting for him to expose his troubled feelings. Renee, however, seemed rather oblivious. ‘Whatever happened to women being more empathetic?’ he thought.

The second he cleared his plate, Nero placed his knife and fork down, parallel to one another, and met eyes with John. He didn’t say anything until Renee and John were finished, however. Once their cutlery was settled on their plates, Nero spoke quickly before Renee could pick up the dirty dishes.

‘John…Renee,’ he began. ‘I’ve been thinking recently. Thinking really hard…’ He sighed and adjusted the cutlery. ‘I…I want to know about…’

‘Your real parents?’ John supplied.

Nero nodded, annoyed that he did a bad job of wording his feelings. He took a deep breath and waited, hoping John and Renee’s answer would distract him from his personal frustrations.

‘It’s not an easy thing, Nero…are you sure you want to know?’ Renee asked, much to Nero’s displeasure. He disliked the idea of having things kept from him.

‘Dear…he wants to know and I think he should,’ John said, touching his wife’s hand. He looked to Nero and forced a smile. ‘Before we tell you…are you sure you want to know?’

Nero stood up and leaned forward in an almost domineering pose. ‘Of course I want to know! Sixteen years without knowing why my parents aren’t around is too long!’

‘Nero, please, sit down.’ John stood up and leant across the table, placing a hand on Nero’s shoulder. ‘I promise, we’re going to tell you.’

Nero took a deep breath, annoyed with himself for losing his temper, and gradually sat down again.

‘Okay…’ John started, sitting down himself. ‘Your parents loved you very much before they died. They would never have given you away.’ Nero prepared to give a retort, but was cut off as John continued. ‘Unfortunately, they had no choice. You see…one evening, as we are told, a man broke into the house looking for money to supply a drug addiction. He found some, but your parents were woken and found him…and…’

‘He killed them, didn’t he?’ Nero asked, staring down at his lap, fighting back the tears that were gradually developing in his eyes. ‘My parents were murdered by a goddamn drug addict! By a disgrace to society!

‘Nero, please!’ Renee pleaded, horribly shocked by her adopted son’s outburst. She had no idea what Nero thought of people, and now she was getting a chilling insight into his views.

No!’ Nero snapped, leaping to his feet and smacking the table. ‘Tell me they caught him! Tell me!

John and Renee exchanged glances and sighed simultaneously. John rested his head in his hands. ‘I’m sorry, Nero, but…’

‘He got away?’ he cried, hitting the table again.

Renee nodded and broke into tears. She prepared to get up from the table, but John pulled her back.

‘He…he…he…’ Nero stammered. He hit the table once more and then stormed from the dining room, knocking down his chair in the process, leaving Renee shaken and in tears, and John incredibly concerned.

He rushed upstairs and into his room, where he slumped down against his door, his mind screaming: ‘He must be made to pay! There is no question about it…he must…

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