NOTE: No one at Wammy's House except for Watari and R knew L by L. Everyone else called him Lawliet.
Six years later or around about then, I came into the picture. Not that this book is about me, but I just wanted to say that. My involvement with the case is reasonably important so I think that I deserve a little mention. L had been playing tennis with R in the courts beside Wammy's House. The heat of the afternoon had covered them in sweat. L at that time wore T-shirts much more than long sleeves as well as cargo shorts instead of those baggy, jeans. This was perhaps because he was younger or just because he was having a phase like most people do concerning fashion or that is, at least, what I've gathered from observation. He had his racket dangling by his side, barely being held by his forefinger and thumb.
“That was a good game,” R smiled. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Over the years he had changed quite a bit himself and his glasses had been replaced by contact lenses. Possibly because of popular culture or just as a fashion statement he'd grown his hair slightly shaggier- not nearly as impressive as L's though. He was slightly more normal looking than L.
“Yes. I suppose it was,” L said in reply. Because of all the sweat his hair had flattened to his forehead and it dangled into his eyes. He shook his head like a dog and R shielded his face to stop the spray. “It gets sort of boring after a while.”
“That's because you won every single game.”
“You're such a show off.”
“It's called talent, R.”
When they reached the dorms L and R separated. L went to change his clothes before he headed out to the cemetery. He'd always been sceptical about doing that sort of thing. Paying his respects to the deceased seemed like a waste of time. Being rationally minded, he didn't believe that the dead had any way of hearing him anyway. That's probably the reason why he stayed silent as Watari handed him a flower and waited for L to get out of the car. L kicked at the dirt as he shuffled over to his parent's graves. They'd been buried together. A single stone marked two people in the midst of the all the other dead souls. He couldn't quite remember their names (they weren't written on the grave stone) and he could never bring himself to search for them in the first place. Some things are best left forgotten.
“Can we go now?” L asked. At around thirteen years of age people tend to grow impatient easily. Plus he felt uncomfortable staring at a pile of dirt like it was the crowned Queen of England.
Watari placed his bowler hat back on top of his head. He sighed heavily but did not make a move to leave.
“Watari, can we go now?” L said more forcefully. He hated to sound like a brat but he was losing his patience- not that he had any to begin with. The sun had gone down east a bit further so the sky had begun to darken. L didn't fancy getting soaked before dinner. One can't fully enjoy sugar when one is soaking wet and has a towel dumped on their heads.
“I think we should stay a little longer.” Watari placed his flower on the ground below.
Now this was really getting ridiculous. L yanked on Watari's sleeve. He stared up at his guardian with such intensity that his eyes began to hurt. “I'm getting hungry!”
That was enough to make Watari walk back to the car. Last time L had to wait for food he raided the kitchen and still had an appetite. In the end, L had enough sugar to give a heart attack to a moose. (Joke not intended).
R was waiting at the gates for them. He waved with a smile on his face. L decided to ignore him. “Hey, L! Wait up!” R yelled as L quickly dashed inside. “I have something I need to tell you!”
L stuffed his hands into his pockets and dodged R. Then he made a break for his room. Unfortunately, R beat him to it.
“I said. I have something to tell you,” R repeated.
L hung his head in defeat. “Fine. What is it?”
“I found a dead person,” R grinned.
It took a while for the meaning of this information to sink in. When it did, L looked up sharply. He couldn't understand why R was smiling but, as stated before, thirteen year olds have this thing called curiosity.
“Come on. I'll show you!” R grabbed L's hand and dragged him along the corridor.
There was indeed a dead woman lying with her feet flopping to either side, her chest unmoving. Despite the nasty looking wounds in her arms and stomach there didn't seem to be much existing blood. When L looked closer her eyes were glazed over indicating that she was blind.
“What type of a person would kill a blind person? It's cowardice,” L said hotly. Even at a young age L was one of those poor souls that was conflicted with the constant sense of justice. Detective's and lawyer's lives seem so boring (don't take any offence to this).
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I'm very opinionated.
R shrugged. “Dunno. A twisted person I guess.” He wasn't particularly perturbed with the current events since he'd watched too many violent movies and had grown insensitive to blood or any kind of gore.
L poked the dead lady's arm to make sure it wasn't a hoax. R had pulled one off before with some other Wammy House kid. It hadn't been funny. He shivered slightly. “We need to tell Watari.”
“Aw come on. Can't this be our secret or something? She's dead so there's no point in calling the ambulance or anything,” R reasoned. He scratched his head as if he was annoyed.
“Even if she wasn't dead I'd want to tell somebody!” L placed a hand to her wrist to check once more for a pulse. Because of the blood surrounding a gash nearby L had to wipe his hands on his shorts shortly afterward.
“We could be detectives. Solve this on our own,” R persisted.
“R, shut up,” L said. He was slightly less sophisticated during his time in England. It was only until he was around seventeen did he even contemplate being nice.
R stayed silent. He followed L out into the mess hall where the faint smells of food were lingering. If it were up to him, which it obviously wasn't, R wouldn't tell anyone about anything he didn't want them to know. What was it called? Ah yes. Freedom of Speech fell under Human Rights. Sadly the world was such an unfair place so that particular rule was non-existent.
Instead of heading straight over to Watari though L plonked himself down at a table and immediately began eating. It was as if all anger had evaporated. R wondered why hypocrisy never seemed to bother L in the slightest. “We must eat before we announce the news,” L decided as if the whole thing was something to celebrate instead of worry about.
R grabbed his dinner and joined L. He nibbled at his piece of toast.
“I can't understand how you can eat something that belongs with breakfast at night,” L said.
“Well, I don't understand how you can eat sugar all the time.” R glared defiantly at his bread so hard that it might just well have lit on fire and burned down the whole building without him taking the slightest notice. “It's unhealthy and most importantly strange.”
“I won't get fat you do realise. My brain power usage is of such a great level that it matters not how much I eat for the energy my brain burns is equivalent to what my body would lose if I were to actually indulge in any physical forms of activity such as walking or swimming. Do you see?” L looked up from his bowl of ice cream.
R blinked a few times not sure how to respond to such a deep, meaningful, almost metaphorical sentence. “Yeah,” he said after a while. “...I think so at least.”
With a satisfied smile L straightened slightly and licked his spoon clean before shoving his bowl away. It seemed evident that he meant to get on with business then and there but a sudden feeling of inferiority washed over R causing him to remain seated. It was surprising that R had never realised this before but L lacked the social skills most kids had and tended to push him around a bit. Not noticing R's defiance, L continued on his way over to Watari who was talking with a young Mello, one of the newest 'recruits' of Wammy's House. As a child Mello's style of hair made him more ‘cute’ than girl like and he hadn't developed the unpleasant, impatient teenager demeanour quite yet. In fact, he was relatively nice to everybody. Except for Near who usually had his toys smashed or his head dunked in flower pots.
“Watari?” L tugged on Watari's sleeve. He ruffled Mello's hair who glared at him and then grinned. “Can I talk with you?”
“Of course,” Watari said. “And, I can understand if it's about the visit to the cemetery today...”
“We found a dead body.” L glanced back at R who was still sitting in his chair with his arms crossed and his toast growing cold.
“By ‘we’ you mean...?”
“Me and R,” L said.
“Did R explain what he was doing to find a dead person?” Watari's growing concern slightly annoyed L. He wasn't a little kid anymore.
“No. He hasn't.”
“Can you bring him here?”
L trudged back to the table and looked down at R. “Watari wants to see you.”
R didn't say a word.
“About the murder.” L gave R's arm a jab with his forefinger.
“No.” R sank a little lower in his chair.
“You're acting like a three year old.”
“And you don't?”
“That's not the point. I acknowledge my inner-child and embrace it. You don't and that is the real problem. Now get up and go over to Watari.”
R gave in. It might just be his place to be undermined. Or it might've been because he frankly gave up, seeing no point to defying L anymore. “Fine.”
'Being mean' was a lost subject to L and he felt no different to when he was being pleasant or being mean. He couldn't fathom why R was being so difficult that day. It wasn’t like him. In fact, L was growing suspicious that R had been abducted by aliens and replaced by a spy, and then he mentally hit himself for thinking such a dumb, childish thought. Of course, aliens were not those stereotypical green men in flying saucers. Or rather there was a five per cent chance that this was true. From his crouched position L could just make out the shape of R shrugged. Make that seven per cent. But even so, this nagging feeling had been constantly prodding the back of his mind. He’d chosen to try and ignore it until just recently. L was never one to ignore instinct for long however and he began to consider what R had said before: “we could be detectives. Solve this on our own.” L nibbled on his thumbnail agitatedly. This was incredibly stupid. Why hadn’t he said yes before?
“R?” L said decidedly, when R came wandering back.
“We can solve this case by ourselves.”
“I thought you’d come to that conclusion.”
“Yeah. That’s why I told Watari that we were just playing a dare and your dare was to pretend you found a dead body in a convincing tone.”
“Ah…” L had never considered the R might actually be intellectually brilliant in his own way. “Is that so?”
R nodded cheerfully. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to finish my dinner.”
“Hang on a minute!” L said, swatting the toast out of R’s hand. “How come you were so reluctant to go over there then?”
“I was thinking up the plan,” R replied simply.
L stuffed his hands into his pockets and stood. The likely hood of R being an alien impostor was now ten per cent and rising.
Sitting in bed with books sprawled across his legs L contemplated which one to read that night. They were all about completely different topics yet they all had one thing in come. The author was himself. L.
“Should probably study some maths,” L murmured in what could’ve passed as a joking tone. It was hard to tell whether he was serious or not since for 1) he very well knew that whatever was written in the textbook was of his own knowledge and 2) L had no obvious sense of humour. “Perhaps some calculus.”
He smiled to himself, which was more creepy than friendly. On occasions like this L tried to imagine what his father and mother might’ve been. Perhaps detectives hence the reason for his yearning to solve the case at present. Or maybe something less spectacular. L picked up the book entitled Investigation and the Basics of Detective Work for Dummies (this was an example of L’s humour). You may not see any existing resemblance to anything remotely funny and neither do I. Yet we must bear this. His jokes get slightly better later on and by later, I mean another book later.
His main reason of reading through his already published works was to revise and improve on what was already there. L liked to critic his own work and rarely let other people do it for him. L continued holding onto the book without opening it and crept out of his room.
L turned around with a heavy, exasperated sigh. “Can you consider being more quiet? I’m trying to be inconspicuous.”
“Oh. Well good luck.”
L really wished that R would leave him alone that night. “Thank you. Now goodnight.”
“O…okay. Goodnight.” R got the message and retreated.
L took even more mouse like steps after that just in case. He didn’t want Mello finding him out. That child was a notorious tattletale. Also, it felt even more awesome to be incognito in the cover of night. L peered into the dark room at the dead woman. She hadn’t moved so Watari had been gullible enough to believe R’s lie.
L sat on the step below the door and brought out the book. The soft moonlight emitted from the open window was enough brightness to make out the letters on the page. And that’s when he saw it. He screamed and threw the book into the air. Scrambling backwards, L tried desperately to escape only to notice that it wasn’t moving. I wasn’t moving. That was when he first saw me. Though he eventually forgot about out encounter I gave him quite a fright. And the reason for my presence there in the first place? I was watching over the dead woman. Again you ask me why?
She’d once possessed my Death Note.
A/N so this is it so far. I hope to be finishing the next chapter soon since I only have April and June to complete it. Oh and I'd appreciate feedback. I haven't fully edited it yet. I'm one of those writers that just jots down the whole story without even thinking about spelling and grammar and whatnot.
Also, I'd like to know your opinions on R. You get to find out his real name later on but, of course, it begins with R. :P
I won't spoil anything. But there's a major plot twist coming so get ready for the next set of chapters, which will probably be up in the next month. :)