To Whomever This May Concern,

My class is required to write a letter to our parents today. I found this practice to be quite ridiculous since we are a class full of orphans, who most likely have never even seen our parents' faces and have never known them. So to whomever who is reading this letter, I must assume that you are my father or mother. I would prefer to think of you as my mother since I am told we already have a father figure, Roger, which is rather odd since he doesn't really like us.

Assuming that you, who is reading my letter now, are my mother - quite unlikely because the person who will be reading this is my English teacher and the chances of him being my mother are nil since he is, in fact, male - I would like to inform you of a detail you seemed to have forgotten for quite some time: you have a son.

His name is Lawliet. You might not have intended to name him so when you birthed him into this world but he doesn't care because you didn't stick around long enough to tell him what name you wanted him to go by. However, he is interested in the reason why you left him.

Were you on drugs? Or perhaps you were too poor to have raised him on your own? If that were the case, Lawliet would like you to know that he wouldn't have minded growing up in poverty and wished that you had kept him instead. But since you have chosen to abandon him, Lawliet has decided that he doesn't want to see you again.

[click]

Dear Mother,

My English teacher has whacked me over the head several times over the last letter. He said that the point of the writing assignment was not to abuse imaginary parents, which was what half the class did, unsurprisingly. The point was to demonstrate to us that writing letters could be an outlet for stress or a place to pour feelings that no one else would understand. I wish he had mentioned that before.

Let's see - feelings that no one else would understand. Hmm, I have many of those. My teachers and peers complain that I do not show enough emotion on my face for them to discern what's going on in my head. What they do not understand is that most of the time, I feel nothing. I seem to have inherited (from your side of the family maybe?) a very small capacity for complicated human emotions.

However, my feelings towards you is simple to comprehend. I hate you.

[click]

Dear Mother,

I seem to be the only one struggling with this weekly writing assignment. The other students have taken to writing pages and pages of letters to their imaginary parent. On the other hand, I struggle to even vomit three paragraphs to you without considering the letter to be a lost cause. My teacher says the trick is to forget that you aren't real.

He doesn't seem to understand that the reason I find this so hard is because I really, really wish you were real.

[click]

Mother,

Today I kicked a fellow student in the stomach because he stole my cake. I consider my actions completely accounted for because that boy (his name is Jump, by the way) did something wrong, and those who commit crime deserve punishment. Unless I have misread Dostoevsky and it's really Crime and No Punishment.

But it appears that in the real world, even the knight of justice will receive repercussions for his actions. For kicking Jump, I shall be depraved of desserts for a whole week. Yes I know, Roger is incorrigible. I am starting to believe that there is no justice in this orphanage.

After my scolding, stupid Jump decided to come make fun of me. He began prancing around juvenilely, proclaiming that I would never be L. "Detectives need to have initiative and constantly be on the move. You only move for chocolate bars," he had said.

Not a completely wrong assessment of me, I'm afraid. True, I am driven by justice, but I am not compelled to physically fight crime like the ridiculous cartoon detectives they show on Sunday television. Having said all that, I don't really want to be L. When I told Jump, everyone laughed at me. Oh yes, such wonderful bunch of classmates.

[click]

Mama,

If my last letter hadn't made it obvious, the children at the orphanage are horrible. They really disgust me with their obvious jealousy towards me because I have the talent of picking up languages quickly. As of now, I can speak German, Italian, English and French fluently. I'm learning Japanese next week, just to see how I will do with an Asian language.

It's funny how the more comfortable I get with writing letters to you, the less I have to write. Maybe I don't have as many things to say to you as I first thought. Somewhere in the duration of writing to you, I've begun to harbor the hope that you really are out there, searching for me, and when you finally find me here, I will be able to give you all these letters.

[click]

Mama,

I'm planning to run away from the orphanage. I don't think I can wait until I'm off age because the people here are just insufferable. I've made my plans and am going to get what I need in the class trip to London next week. If everything goes smoothly, I should be out of this place by next month.

[click]

Mama,

L died today. His death caused a huge uproar in the orphanage and for the first time in a very long time, Watari came to the orphanage. He was standing next to Roger when he delivered the unexpected news. The children were silent for a few seconds before every single one of them started demanding who L had declared his successor.

In the hubbub of the situation, I snuck out of the dorm and into the kitchen because I spotted Roger slipping a tub of Ben and Jerry's into the freezer yesterday. I was a little upset because L's death will probably make Roger postpone the London trip. I had about three scoops of strawberry ice-cream before Roger and Watari caught me in the act.

Surprisingly, Roger didn't scream and snatch the tub of ice-cream from me, like he usually does. Instead, he asks me to pack my things and get ready to leave with Watari. Turns out, I'm the new L. Huh, go figure.

[click]

Mama,

Although I've been saying for ages that I want to leave this place, I suddenly don't feel like going. Watari had sat me down before we left, calmly and slowly explained to me the duties I had to assume as the new L and I hated all of them. I don't want to be some faceless, nameless person who hides behind a white screen. But Watari insisted that L had only chosen me as his protege. I had to be L or no one else will.

Watari made a funny face when I put Jump's name in for consideration. The late L must've had a sadistic bone in his body because he picked the only person in the entire orphanage who didn't want to be L as his successor. My only reprieve to this entire situation is that L can't enjoy the schadenfreude he bestowed upon me because he's dead.

Hmm, maybe I'm more like him than I ever thought.

[double click]

Mother,

It's been years since I've written to you. Truth of the matter is that I have completely forgotten about my letter-writing routine until Watari gave me a box full of my letters for you yesterday. Roger had found them in my old bunk and thought that I would like to have them as a memento. Of what, I'm not exactly sure.

So here I am. You are the proud mother of the world's greatest detective. The position wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be. Watari gives me all the dessert I want, I'm allowed to not bathe for days on end and I can choose the cases I want to solve. It's a pretty interesting job.

Hang on, someone is trying to peek at what I am writing to you. Excuse me while I shoo him away with a kick. His name is Yagami Raito, by the way. He is currently handcuffed to me for reasons I cannot divulge and no, I am not interested in bondage, if that's what's you're thinking. The handcuffs are for practicality.

Yuck, Yagami Raito has just snorted at the supposed absurdity of my previous sentence. Excuse me again while I bonk him on the head for questioning my genius and also for being a busybody.

In spite of his nosiness, Yagami-san is actually a rather tolerable companion. He is bright and insightful but is ridiculously honourable to my dismay. But I suppose his good looks make up for his overwhelming sense for morality, even when dealing with criminals.

...

I did not just write that.

[click]

Mother,

I have a question for you. Hold on to that thought, Watari had come with cake. Did you know that Japanese patissier are very skillful at making cake? I was in Ginza when I first had this revelation. Ginza is stocked up to its eyeballs with confectionaries and one of them, I am very pleased to say, is very good at making macarons.

Okay, I now have two questions for you. Firstly, does our family have a history with diabetes? I know for a fact that people with diabetic parents are more likely to get the disease. If so, I would appreciate it if you tell me soon, because I'd be very happy to live without insulin shots.

Second question: how does one tell if he is in love? Watari didn't have a concise answer for me, for once, and neither does the rest of the people I am currently working with. No, I haven't asked Yagami Raito. I do not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he may know something I do not.

Yes, mother, your son has quite an ego.

[click]

Mother,

Raito cried yesterday night. He thinks I have no idea but I had only been pretending to sleep when I heard him sobbing at two in the morning. Come to think of it, he's been acting pretty antsy lately. I tried to offer him some cake but to my astonishment, it did nothing to alleviate his bad moods.

For the first time ever since I met him, I'm beginning to think that Raito isn't Kira after all. Because the Kira I had painted in my head doesn't have the propensity to cry.

[click]

Mother,

My judgement has gone askew ever since the night I heard Raito cry. My head rationalises that Raito can't be Kira because Kira simply doesn't have it in him to cry. But another part of my brain argues that Kira is only human and that all humans can cry. At the moment, I am caught in between two possibilities and I acknowledge the likelihood that I like the idea of Raito not being Kira because...

...err, because... I kind of...like...Raito..kun.

...

...

I need cake.

[click]

Mother,

My team and I caught a suspect for the case I'm working on today. If you were watching the news, you'd know that the suspect's name is Higuchi. I felt a bit sorry that I couldn't join in the team's celebratory mood because I knew that the danger was not over; that the real Kira, the dangerous one, is still on the loose. If anything, my gut feeling is telling me that capturing Higuchi has put me in a more vulnerable spot than before.

Just so you know, my gut feeling has been telling me something else too. It's telling me that I'm in love with Raito-kun. Okay, that might not have been my gut.

[double click]

Mama,

I'm sorry my last letter to you is not on paper, but I don't have time to write this down. It's been fun corresponding with you. By the way, Yagami Raito is Kira. Funny, huh? I guess tears don't count for much, after all.

[click]

To "Mother",

This is Yagami Raito. I noticed that your son has been writing letters to you and couldn't help myself - I have read his previous letters to you and am sorry for intruding the privacy of your correspondence. I was surprised when I read about how your son felt about me. It was unexpected and...inconceivable that someone as brilliant as he could be deceived by me, smart as I am. Your son was an interesting friend. Had I any other option, I would have kept him alive by my side but our opposing opinions forced me to do what I did.

The reason I am writing this letter is to tell you that your son is dead and therefore, will not be writing any more letters to you. I realise that it is nonsensical to write to someone who does not exist but I felt I had to finish what your son started. I owed that much to him after being responsible for his death. Be proud, madam, of the the fact that your son had been the only one close to ever figuring out who I truly was - not just Kira, but Yagami Raito.

If you are as smart as he was, then you must've figured it out too.

....

..

Yes--

-- I loved him too.

[click]

[end]