On this day, the wind wailed like a wounded woman. And the tears poured gently from the mourning sky. The birds called out woefully, almost as if they could sense the great tragedy that had occurred so easily but taken so much.

As night fell, the thunder struck down upon the Earth, showing its pure outrage as lightning flashed gloriously across the sky. The thunderous booming letting the world know of a great pain with each strike to the land.

T’was three little words that hung gloomily over the people like smog. L…

L was dead.

Darkness settled at Wammy’s and each child had their head bowed solemnly. Whispers ravaged across them of fantastical tales of the gruesome death of their idol. Hearts pounded as they listened to the horrific stories, adding more garnishing to the already stomach-turning qualities of them.

However, they would not know the truth. For what truly saddened Quillish Wammy was no only the fact that L had passed, but he had passed of natural causes. There was no murderer that killed him, no psychopath he’d put in jail coming back to take revenge. No information leaks or poisoned food.

No.

For you see, it was a cruel twist of fate that took the young man’s life so early in its stages. With a grim countenance, Quillish then walked the halls of his orphanage, lightning striking down and illuminating the corridor. The task of being L fell to the youth, Beyond Birthday. Quillish looked out the window at the darkened landscape.

A sigh.

Beyond Birthday, or how we will refer to him as B, sat in his room. Deep red eyes flashed victoriously as a grin sat pleasantly on his features. Though covered in makeup, one could plainly see that he did not entirely resemble the deceased detective. There were differences, there were always differences.

Physically…and mentally. Yes, mentally-speaking B was…different. There was something about him that drove the others away, something threatening that only a child could sense.  B’s grin turned upwards into something more of a smirk.

He’d won. L was pushing daises and now he would become L. He giggled with sadistic glee. This was just too good, all the luck he’d had. With A dead—suicide, and L out of the picture he was the best. Oh yes, he was indeed the best now. Because…he was L and L was now B.

B leaned his head back against the wall, Shinigami eyes glowing with mocking. Feh, L. Was that really all he had?

~*~

The Kira case.

It was one of the most world’s most gruesome events of mass murder. Someone was killing criminals left and right, leaving not a single trace except a heart attack and a message.

That Kira was spreading judgment. Kira was righteous and Kira was changing the world.

Soon after this case was taken up by L who took a special interest in this one. His mind worked like L’s, quick and sharp. And as L, or B rather, gained more footholds in the case, his interest peaked into something more. Something, much, much more.

Because no longer was B content with just solving the case.

~*~

Light Yagami had been through more than any average teenage boy could fathom. He’d see death, watched it right in front of his eyes. He’s lived in fear with a dark secret pulling at his conscience. But mostly…he’d killed without remorse. Killed without a second thought crossing his mind other than perhaps the weather or the time.

With each passing day, killing and death became a familiar friend in the sanctuary of his room. With each passing moment the death toll grew and his confidence bolstered. With each object in his path eliminated, his pride swelled.

The FBI agents, Naomi Misora, Misa, and succeeding in getting close to L.

L…He could picture the man in his mind clearer than the sky on a cloudless day. Dark, disheveled hair and his customary jeans and white shirt. But there was something about him…something that seemed much more heinous than Kira himself could ever grow to become. A deep broiling insanity…

Light shook this from his mind, for now he had a plan to throw L off his trail. With Misa in captivity and having lost ownership of her Death Note, his plan of the Death Note forfeit would come into play. As he electively was put in captivity and the ownership of his Death Note given up, Light became innocent.

However B…

Did not.

~*~

They had a plan, B, Light, and the Task Force. To catch the Yotsuba Kira. A broadcast using Matsuda to bring Higuchi out of hiding. Dawn was approaching rapidly and Light was embroiled in dreams. A deep dream that would hold him till the virgin day approached.  

Where was this? Light looked around, seeing nothing but a great white, he took a step, only to feel something underneath his feet. The youth looked down.

Light quirked an eyebrow. A cake?

“I believe that’s my cake you are so carelessly stepping upon.” A monotone voice pierced the silence. Light’s head shot up. He blanched.

“…L?” he asked. But this one seemed different. He looked shorter and his nose was thinner. His chin was more defined. Small things that separated the L Light knew and the true L.

“Hm, perhaps,” came the apt reply. L approached, squatting down to get a better look at the corpse of the cake. “…I believe you’ve murdered my cake.” From his dead-serious tone, it was hard to distil whether or not this was meant to be a joke.

“Who are you?” Light asked, giving the cake a forlorn glance.

“I’m whoever you want me to be,” he replied vaguely. A pale finger shot out to brush against the cake, taking with it a bit of frosting with it. The finger was quickly ushered into L’s mouth and the frosting consumed eagerly. “But enough games, Light-kun.”

Light paused.

“How do you know my name?”

L stood with one hand in his pocket and his posture slightly slouched. “I know all about you Light, I’ve been watching. Always just watching. Now there seems to be a greater threat than Kira, so I came to ask your help.”

Light gave a small, slightly mocking laugh. “You expect me to just believe something like that?” he asked, shaking his head and the laughter still upon his lips. L became much more serious, a frown engraving upon his own lips.

“The L you know is simply a copy. A copy and nothing more. He is not the real L nor is he very stable. I’ve seen what you’ve done, I know what you’re capable of doing…but… Now you are just Light Yagami. And I come to you humbly from my grave to ask you a favor. L Lawliet asking Light Yagami for a favor.”

The caramel-haired boy stared incredulously at this ‘L’. It was not this that shocked him, but the fact that somewhere in his gut, he believed this man. Claiming to come from the grave…to be the real L. And Light believed him.

“What favor?”

L bowed his head, nest of hair shading his face. “To stop B before he find out how Kira kills. Once he does, I know he’ll harness it to use for himself.”

“B?” Light’s face was genuinely confused.

“B. B was my successor, second in line to take my place in case something happened to me. He imitates what I wore, my mannerisms, most everything that he does I once did. The only difference is our mental capacity. I’m afraid B isn’t what one would call ‘sane’.”

Light felt his head burn slightly with previous thoughts about the ‘L’ he worked with. The instinct that said something wasn’t quite right…His eyes were wide and staring forward unseeingly. He was broken from his trance by a feathery touch on his shoulder.

“Stop him…end it. There’s no one else who can…” L’s face looked pleading and his head was bowed slightly. “I can’t watch what he’ll do to the world with that kind of power.”

Light gave an unsure nod. “What about you?”

L looked up, a faint smile upon his features. “I’ll watch…just like I always do. However there is one thing you must do for me. I believe you owe it for the unjust killing of my cake.”

L leaned forward and before Light could protest, the man’s lips fell upon his own. They were soft, airy, and tasted of sweets. Inexperienced in such an act. Light went to move but felt himself dragged into it as if by some sort of current. L pulled away.

“I’ve watched it done before…It looked nice. I wanted to try it at least once before eternity.”

Light felt his heart suddenly thump loudly in his chest and his eyes begin to slip shut. Body was sent careening to the ground as L watched with those inquisitive, dark eyes.

Light managed to get one more glance before he hit the ground, an illuminated man with dark, messy hair. Clothed in a white shirt and blue jeans. With angel wings sprouting from his back in a pure white and feathery mass.

~*~

Light’s eyes shot open. A dream…just a dream and that’s all. But if it was a dream…how could he still taste that kiss upon his lips?

~*~

There was hardly any speaking, the lack of noise compensated for by the whirring of the helicopter. B held out a gun delicately between his fingers to the youth. “Take it,” he said blandly.

“Guns are illegal in Japan,” Light answered back.

“Whether it’s legal or not wont matter if you’re dead.”

Light paused, taking the gun unsurely from the detective. His dream still rang in his head like church bells. Was this really the ‘B’ L was talking about…

Not what one would call ‘sane’

Light held the gun awkwardly, never having truly brandished one before. He kept the tip of it pointed towards the floor as the helicopter rode on. Light listened carefully to the developments on the situation from Wedy and Aiber.

To stop B before he find out how Kira kills.

Light glanced over at B. Or was it really B? Or was he the true L? Who could tell anymore?

Light’s heart clenched painfully as if there was hand wrapped around it as the helicopter descended. They were going to apprehend Kira…and find out how he kills criminals.

I can’t watch what he’ll do to the world with that kind of power

His mind scrambled frantically and his heart beat faster as the plane landed in front of Higuchi’s car. He himself was in handcuffs with a blindfold across his face. B spoke into his headset, issuing several commands. Most of what was going on was a blur to the confused and slightly distressed Light.

Stop him…end it. There’s no one else who can…

The notebook was brought over to the helicopter. The white writing stood out brilliantly against the black, showcasing the English script that read ‘Death Note’.

B took the notebook, glancing up at the Shinigami. No surprise, the appearance of such a creature elicited hardly any reaction from him. All B could see was death, why should he not believe there was a God of it?

He flipped through the first pages of rules, body beginning to shake with a small amount of cackling. “Hehe hehe,” he giggled madly, fingers brushing the pages like a baby’s skin. Precious and as though the rough paper was soft as silk.

“I can’t wait to see the death of the world…”

Light’s eyes widened at the look on B’s face. One thing became heavy, heavier than his heart and heavier than his mind.

The gun in his hand.

Time moved like it took ages, a single grain of sand taking minutes to fall into the other end of the hourglass. Light raised the gun, shaking hands pulling feebly against the trigger.

B noticed, pulling against the seatbelt that bound him in the helicopter. He’d managed to get halfway out of the vehicle before a bullet whizzed through the air. It lodged in his arm, the one still inside the helicopter. Blood dripped down his arm as he screeched in pain, scrambling out the plane.

Light dropped the gun, fumbling to escape from the opposite side. He fell hopelessly to the pavement, scrambling to get to his feet. Too late…

A burning in his chest exploded like wildfire and his vision became distorted. He clutched the place above his heart, falling to the pavement with his eyes bugging out.

B had messily managed to scribble out the kanji on the pages of the Death Note, using his blood as a medium on the page. He was bleeding profusely from the mortal wound, clutching it and still howling with pain.

夜神 月

Light raised his head, everything blurred around him except one thing. It was…him. There he stood, just how Light had remembered. The sight of him brought that faint taste back to his lips.

A dark crow’s nest of hair, baggy blue jeans, a plain white shirt, and white wings emerging from his back. Light tried to crawl forward to him but he could not move his body. His hand was sill clutching desperately at the fabric of his shirt.

A hand slowly moved out towards him, gesturing Light to take it. Light tried again to take the angels hand, tears starting to spill from his eyes.

Take me home…

L. Lawliet