Prologue: Secret Origins

I remember the first orphanage. Screaming children everywhere. I got sent there after my parents died. I don't even remember how they died, just that the next six months were spent in that hateful place. The caretakers appeared to simply be trying to cope, since most of the children were crying and wailing most of the time. I kept to myself, and they thought I was strange because I didn't burst into hysterics like the rest of them. They looked down on me because I was obviously so far ahead of everyone else. Six months of that hell; even though I wasn't old enough to truly feel hate, I was miserable. Then Watari came.

Watari had been traveling, and had heard rumors about this particular orphanage, and me in particular. He asked to meet me, and immediately took a liking to me. Mr. Wammy… I can hardly call him that anymore. He has been Watari to me for so long… But anyway, back on topic. He adopted me, got me out of that horrible place. Legally, I was his adopted son, but we always looked on it as more of a grandfather/grandson relationship. He certainly spoiled me like a grandparent.

I remember being six years old, standing with Watari in front of Wammy's House, my new home, in my coat and my black scarf and mittens. I will admit to being scared then. We were in Winchester, England. I had been born in France, and spoke only French, but he patiently taught me English. I picked it up so quickly that I became fluent, and even the telltale French accent was gone.

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Watari became my grandfather, my mentor, the only family I could really remember. He wanted to open his own orphanage, but make it a school for the gifted and the special. Children like me.

He also gave me my first experience with sweets. I had never been given sweets as a child, and they were unheard of in the other orphanage. It became the only thing I would eat, because other food seemed bland and tasteless afterwards, and Watari let me. He told me that people like me often had small quirks that they could not give up. He never mocked me for the way I sat, the things I ate, my need to chew my thumb or the way I dressed. I think the quirk with my thumb comes from a dislike of distraction. The sensation draws me back to the here and the now, and allows me to block out all outside interruptions.

At that other orphanage, they practically feared me for my quirks. I got hit, a lot, by older bullies. But eventually they left me alone entirely, after one superstitious child convinced the rest that I was something evil. Black eyes, hell-spawn eyes, they began to say. One even went so far as to proclaim that only vampires possessed black eyes, and with my pale skin and underweight body, they feared me for being something that only existed in myth. I tried, a few times, to convince them otherwise, begging them to see that I didn't have fangs, and couldn't do anything to them, but they protested, saying that I would simply hypnotize them with my "demon eyes" if they came too close. So I closed myself away from them and everything else.

Watari gave me new words for my eyes: 'obsidian', 'outer space', and when I was particularly mischievous, as children are apt to be, 'black magic'. They weren't vampire eyes at all.

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As years passed, many other children began to join us in the house, but none were as smart as me. Watari had asked me long before that day what I wanted to be called around them, since I never seemed to give anyone my real name.

There was a reason behind that as well. My name had been a thing of ridicule for me in the past. I had told one of the children at that old orphanage my name, and they had turned it into an object of hurt. In French, in was pronounced as 'Low-lie-et', similar to the English phrase 'low-light'. They turned it, changing it to the only English they seemed to know.

"Low-life! Low-life!"

In English, it's pronounced differently, with a short "i" sound, and akin to the word 'Law'. 'Law-lee-et" Law was fitting for what I would become later, but for that time, I didn't want others to know my real name. I had been going by the name Daneuve when I met Watari, and it took me a long time to trust him enough to tell him my real name. I told him that neither name would work around the other children. I simply wanted to be known as L.

He was puzzled, but as usual, denied me nothing. My name would remain hidden until I was eleven years old, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. The first instance against normalcy was when I was ten, when A arrived at the house.

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So it's exam week and I'm bored as hell. I figured I might as well start on my new project. If anyone read "The Second Child", my story for Beyond Birthday, this is intended to be a more detailed rewrite, for L, A, and B. Like character analysis. It's been done, I know, but I wanted to. This will likely not be updated every day, exam hell and all, but I'll do my best. I'll more than likely take down "Second Child" when this is done.

So, how do you say L's name? Because I always pronounced it like my own, "Law-li-et." Li like Lee, only spelled differently. But the Japanese romaji says "Eru Roraito." Raito like Light. WTF?

The vampire thing actually happened to me. I have really dark eyes, and when I was in the fifth grade some second grader accused me of being a vampire. She refused to come see that they're really brown. O.o

Luv and hugs!
Li