Title: Twelfth Letter

Author: Hitachiin Hikaru

Fandom: Death Note

Rating: "T" for language and death

Genre: Mystery/Romance

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Death Note, including characters, cities, towns, scenarios, titles, or anything else about it you can think of. I just want to express my creative intent with this fic.

Summary: Sometimes, the hardest thing for someone is letting go. For me, the hardest thing was holding on to the few wisps of memories I had left of him. LxOC R&R Please

A/N: Ahem. Now, this just popped into my head during geometry, and I spent the whole 1h30m period writing this down. Got like eight pages written. Hope you enjoy. I don't believe that Daydream is a real band, but it might. If so, I don't own it…

Chapter 1: A is for Abandoned

As a matter of fact, that's what happened. Horrible as is it sounds, it's one hundred percent the truth. At the age of eight months I was left alone in front of an Elizabeth Amand's Home for Orphaned Children in Pennsylvania, where the people say "wooter" not water, and "Flarida" instead of Florida. The place didn't suit me at all, since my parents were alive and well, I just wasn't with them. I don't remember any of it, since I was barely an infant at the time, but the caretakers, a sweet woman and her husband, told me I was left in half a milk jug covered in blankets on the doorstep. Isn't that cheery?

I grew up for fourteen years in the orphanage, but I chose to be a loner and refused to talk to anyone, though Mrs. Amand was the only one that really understood. I was traumatized, obviously, because I had found out why I was here, how my parents had carelessly cast me aside in lieu of having to take care of me themselves. I refused to trust the adults because I didn't know if they were planning on tossing me out sometime soon, and I didn't want to make any friends because I couldn't know if they were going to leave and get adopted in the near future. It was a struggle, waking up every morning to know that no one would be there for me, but I couldn't help that.

I kept myself occupied in my room by listening to music and tuning my voice, singing being one thing that was very fun for me, precious, and kept me happy. I loved to sing, but I only did it when I was alone, because I knew I wasn't very good, but that's okay. It was very enjoyable!

But, as time flows, a new teenager was accepted into the orphanage, one that I couldn't tear my fourteen-year-old eyes away from.

He had bright, inquisitive gray eyes and black hair that was swept messily around his head. He had no socks or shoes on, but I would learn later that such a choice was personal preference, not lack of any to wear. He wore a white shirt and jeans that seemed hastily thrown on, and he was being led my Mr. Amand into the lunchroom where I stood, my cassette player softly playing some rock and roll in the background. "Fall." I jumped at the sound of my name and looked over at him, biting my lip, a habit that I just couldn't break. I walked over to him, too nervous to say a word and stood before him. "Fall, I was wondering if you could show this young man to his room? And give him the tour of the grounds, I know you know them better than this old man." I nodded and motioned for the boy to follow me, taking a piece of paper from the Mr. Amand's hand and noting the number on it.

Nervously, I asked him, "Um…" My voice cracked from lack of use. "Follow me… please."

He smiled kindly at me and replied, "Okay." I flushed in embarrassment, and I didn't know why… it just seemed like a proper response. I followed those rooms, and was at his in less than a minute. "Thanks Fall."

I nodded and tugged at the hem of my shirt, watching the ground shyly. I was never good around people, boys especially. "You're welcome…erm, I don't know your name…"


I blinked and watched him with an incredulous expression, trying to see if he was serious or not. "That's not a real name. That's a letter after K."

He pressed a thumb to his bottom lip and retorted, a smile tugging at his mouth, "Well yours isn't either. Fall comes after summer." I blinked and smiled, almost laughing at his response. He was right. That was my first stumble upon with the teen known as L, though what that stood for or why it was his name I couldn't say. Though everyday I would try to find him and hang out with him, my encounters showed me that he was quite intelligent. He would pick up the newspaper everyday after the caretakers were done reading it and flip through it, telling me the interesting things going on.

Even though he loved to read, he never hesitated to come outside when I begged him to. Mostly I'd pick flowers while he watched, telling me what each bud was, and accept the bouquet I made for him gratefully every time. I didn't know what he did with them, cause I never saw them in the trash or anything. Maybe he gave them away or something. I had no clue. One time, I was even brave enough to ask him, quite timidly however, if he would like to hear me sing. "I've been practicing for a long time," I had assured him.

He agreed like a good sport, and while I was performing he didn't even have a look of disgust or anything on his face. Just that cute smile, sitting on his chair with his knees curled to his chest and his hand on his mouth. When I was finished, he told me, although I believed him to be lying, that I was the best singer he'd ever heard. In gratitude, I had hugged him tightly around the neck, and planted a kiss on his cheek. Unfortunately, though that was the best day of my life, it was also the worst.

I knew all the fun things must come to an end; I didn't believe ours would ever, not in a million years. But because a man came to Elizabeth Amand's, that forced ours to a sudden standstill. I remember that day so clearly in my mind, the day when Quillish Wammy came, offering a place in his orphanage for gifted children. And I knew exactly whom they wanted the moment I heard those words. I met up with L before anyone else did.

"L, they're going to take you away from me!" I cried the moment I saw him, confusing him. Obviously he wouldn't know what I was talking about just yet…

Sometimes, the hardest thing for someone is letting go. For me, the hardest thing was holding on to the few wisps of memories I had left of him. But when he left to go to that orphanage for intellectually inclined children, my memories just faded of their own accord. Only two full memories remained, and one was the day I sang for him and he had to go.

The other, I remembered, was when he told me that when he became a wonderful and great detective he would find my parents for me. I told him it wasn't necessary, but he contradicted me. He told me that, "Any parent that willingly abandons their child is one of the worst criminals. My parents died, so they have an excuse, but yours… that's just terrible." But… if he didn't even bother to talk to me, how could he ever know?

I ran a brush through my ebony hair while watching my face in the mirror. I had black eyes, though with my new contacts, which were green, they looked kind of gray, and my bangs were nose length, pushed to the sides of my face, while the rest was shoulder. I didn't like to have it down, so I pulled it out of my face into a ponytail on the back of my head. I wore a maroon school uniform with a white undershirt and bow around the collar. The skirt was rather short, so I wore shorts underneath and black shoes with white knee socks. I had a job to go to, I was twenty-four after all, but I really, truly didn't need it. It was just a safe front.

I didn't know why I was mulling over the past, and close friendships broken. All it did was pull on my pain of being abandoned once again. He could've stayed, but he chose to leave me all alone. Like my parents did. Even his letters did nothing to cheer me up, and soon he simply stopped writing them. I guess I wasn't an interesting enough person to keep in touch with after ten years of being separated, in fact, he probably didn't even know I was famous. I had a World Tour going on right now, so I was in Japan for two concerts over the span of two months, and I would be here for about four to get some sightseeing done. Japan's my last stop before heading back to the States, so I had time. Hey, maybe when I retire I'll live here permanently.

A couple of months after L left for England, I was adopted by a rich businessman and his wife, and they moved me to California, far away from Elizabeth Amand's in Philadelphia. There, I learned to speak Japanese, and got my first record deal as a rock and roll singer for the Japanese band Daydream. Maybe an adventure outside of the States would get my mind off of my wonderful, smart little friend, so I accepted the offer for the tour. Picking up my purse, I exited out of the apartment I was staying in and headed down the steps of the complex, turning the corner to get to my workplace, a candy store. Despite being famous, I still liked to go to work. I mean, there was nothing wrong with doing some honest work, was there? Besides, I gave most of the money to charity anyway. The job was just to get crazy stalkers off my tail, because what self-respecting vocalist would have a normal job? Besides me.

I liked my job, it was a quaint little candy store, and there weren't too many people, so they didn't ask many questions, or harp on me too much for autographs or what not if they did find who I was. But what I didn't like was being forced to pass M. University to get there, because some of the boys there could be really rowdy and flirtatious. To some girls that might be fine, but it really bothered me because I wasn't really into boys.

Keeping my eyes on the sidewalk as I passed, I prayed that they would pay me no mind as I went by. Thankfully they did, and I glanced up to see if anyone was there. Only one person at the moment, sitting at a picnic table in the front of the dorms. He had his legs pressed up against his chest, and a hand pressed to his mouth as he read quickly through a textbook on the table. The stance was so familiar that I almost fell over in shock. I did drop my purse, and that's exactly what caught his previously enraptured attention. He blinked his wide, dark gray eyes and turned to face the noise, and I saw with a blush that he noticed me staring at him with a dropped jaw.

Swallowing with difficulty, I gathered up my fallen possession and ran from the sidewalk, wanting to get to safety of the candy store as soon as possible. I didn't want to tear my heart out any further than I already had.