DisclaimerSeeing how the DeathNote universe belongs to Tsugumi Ohba and the art of Takeshi Obata, I really dont see myself as the sole owners, but merely an obsessive fangirl who would love to show L a good time. Or better yet, beyond Birthday. Sorry, I am so turned-on by a sociopath who eats jam. Yummy.

Story SynopsisEven the dead have their way of making themselves known.

RatingPG13 to R. Just be mature.

Chapter TitleTwo Lifespans

A/NI know, I know that it has certainty been a while. And I am so sorry. I think this was the hardest chapter to write because so much happens and I really didnt want to split it. If you have watched the amine or even read the manga, you are a general idea about what happens, so therefore, I really dont have to write everything.

Oh! If you have questions, just ask. I shall answer them to the full extent, and I might even give you hints about what is coming up.

Your obedient servant,


REVIEWS. Please. Reviews are one of the few joys I have in my life, and further motivation to writeotherwise I feel like no one is reading, and I should quit. Share your ideas. REVIEWS.

P.S. I now have a deviantart account under ImmortalisReaper9.


Kira was so close to victory that he could taste it. Everything was going according to plan, and now, they was one final step yet to complete and then his plan would be completeboth the Shinigami Rem and L would be dead, and he would be that much closer to making a new world. Still, he needed Misa-Misa Amane. He kept reminding himself that sooner than later, she would outlive her usefulness and then, without Rems maternal and critical eye, he would kill her. Suicide, sound promising.

Looking at Misa-Misa, Light Yagami replied a dreamy voice that would just make her melt, "Right now, Im in no position to be punishing criminalsthats why I need you Misa-Misa. Continue passing righteous judgment." He pulled her closer, slipping his warms around her petite waist. It was amusing how easily he could manipulate her. She would do anything, absolutely anythingwhat a picturesque image of the obedient, sacrificial lamb. Now, she was staring up at him with those common brown eyes and she was so close that she was practically cross-eyed. Her lips were parted, begging for a kiss. Light forced a smile, and drew her closer into a hug with his mouth on her earlobe. He whispered, "Everything should be finished, and then you and I can make a New World together."

"A perfect world."


She looked away, chewing on her lipan annoying habit of hers.

As always, Misa-Misa needed a little encourage. Light withdrew; taking hers hands into his and gave them a squeeze. "What is it? Something is on your mind."

Misa-Misa nodded.

"Tell me," he prompted, "you should never feel that you have to keep things from me."

Lip quivering, she pulled him closer and spoke into her ear. "Misa-Misa thinks shes being followed."

It was always something increditably stupid, but easily fixed.

He huffed a laugh. "Part of being a celebrity are the stalkers, and obsessive fans," Light said. "And if theyre not following you than your managers are."

"This is different," she urged. "Whoever it is, Misa-Misa thinks that they know about us. About being Kira?"

Sometimes she had a very active imagination, and besides that, the thing she was suggestion was quite impossible.

"Misa," Light chastised, pulling away.

"Misa-Misa is serious. Look at this," she whispered feverishly.

The little whining bitch forced something into his hands, and Light suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, or better yet, smack her across the face for her stupidity. He could probably get away if it, because she was always, so eager to forgive him, but with the surveillance cameras watching him, it could not be a wise idea. There was already enough suspicion, thanks to L.

That was going to change today.

Just look at it. Misa-Misa found this today on the bathroom mirror.

"Fine," he snapped.

It was a photoand not just any photo, just a snapshot of him, of Light Yagami. HIM. Hoping to shake the cobwebs from his mind, Light rubbed his eyes and peered closer. There was no fooling the senses. In fact, the photo looked disquietly familiar, and he suddenly recalled being shoved into one of those tight photo-booths at the festival that L had so graciously offered them tickets.

However, the sender apparently had burned out his eyes with some kind of acidand recently, because the offending sour smell was potent and warm in his hand. Taken aback, Light nearly dropped it and noticed with a lurching stomach that his name was written above his head, and where his lifeline should have been, were question marks. What? he exclaimed. It was as if the sender had knowledgeor even, he thought with a plunging stomach, had Shinigami eyes.

No. It was impossible, he said trying to calm himself.

It was ridiculous.

He was just anxious, that was all.

However, all proved to be hopelessly in vain when he turned a photo over and in red scribing ink it said, Light Yagami, why dont you have any numbers?

It could have been a ploy, constructed by L to unnerve himbut it seemed too aggressive, too hostile for him. Watari perhaps, there was hardly anything about the man to suggest what he was capable of doing.

Light cupped her face with his hand and he said more to himself than to her, "It's nothing."


Beyond Birthday stood across the street of what he suspected to be the Kira-Task-Force headquarters, or simple Ls current place of resident. It certainty looked like it. Looked like something the egocentric son of a bitch would have the funds to build. Probably designed it too. Still looking at the building he smirked and replied, And he said that I had an a super-sized ego. Little prick.

He shook his head, and took another poisonous puff from his cigarette, exhaling swirls of toxic smoke through his flared nostrils like some possessed demon.

Behind the sunglasses, his shimmering eyes scanned the unsuspecting crowd, not really searching for anything in particular, not looking at the passing sheep, especially with those with I-Support-Kira T-shirts. Fucking idiots. Most tyrants start out as heroes.

He had changed his clothes, since his little adventure from the Shusuke Foundation for Mental Health, and now B.B. was dressed in blue jeans, a black v-neck t-shirts and wearing a leather jacket that was bit snug for his framethen again, what did he expect, it was not his. Beyond found it among Misoras affects at the hospital, and he couldnt find it in himself to leave it behind. Besides that, he could remember Naomi wearing it during the Los Angeles BB murder case, and several times, imagining her wearing nothing but the jacket. Still, it was thanks to Miss Naomi Misora and now, only the scars on his face and neck could be seen. Too bad, Beyond wanted her to savor the sights; however, she was sleeping in the backseat, and now unconscious, only after a violent struggle that landed him with a spilt lip. Licking his lips, Beyond could still taste blood.

Now, that was twice that Naomi ruined his face.

Still, he failed to see why she resisted him so fervently, so aggressively; after all, Beyond told Naomi that he had no intentions of killing her. He thought that would settle her nerves. However, it wasnt like he didnt like her fighting him. On the contrary, it was such a turn-on. It was an experience that he longed repeating in the near future.

Just later, he reminded himself.

For now, there were other affairs that required his attention.

Today, L would die, and then, Beyond would see whether the word of the King Shinigami King had any value.

He watched the teeny-bobber, Misa-Misa walked up to the building and meet a young mansomeone who didnt have any numbers, just like her. A smiled twitched on his lips. "Light Yagami," he paused and added, "or should I refer you as Kira? Either way, you shall be meeting Beyond Birthday before too long, face-to-face. Until then, youre in for a hasty surprise. A wench in your plan. Hope you dont mind."


L was the centurys greatest detectiveable to mobilize every investigation bureau on the globe, with a public record alone that said he solved more than 3,500 cases, and sent three times that number to prisonand during it all, he never once showed his face. Not onceuntil now of coursebut that was besides the point. The rules were simple, he never got involved unless there were more than ten victims, or a million dollars at stake, or unless personal reasons compelled his presence. Now, the Kira-Case was personal, and now, more than ever the thought of failure weighted heavily on his mind, and he had so much more to live for and to keep living. Failure would result in his death, as well as his heirs at the Wammy HouseNear, Mello, Matt, and the remaining 17 apprentices. True, they were backup, the second line of defense. It was their purpose, their meaning in life and yet, L was hesitant about using them in the real field, other than stimulations. Perhaps he was being parental.

Or overprotective.

Maybe, he was just paranoid.

Worse of all, the sounds of the bells had been unusually loud today. So much so that he felt a monstrous headache throbbing between his ears. Theyve been ringing nonstop all day. And L found it very distracting. He wondered if it was a church. A wedding? Or even a funeral?

There was just a foreboding sense of dread that was overwhelming, and refused to be ignored. L felt as though events were underway that were completely out of control. Somehow, he felt defeated. Now more than ever, the powerlessness rose within himbut with a fury, a rage so palpable L could taste it, could feel it choking and suffocating him. Despite his major accomplishments, even the famous and seemingly faceless, nameless detective had his limitations.

His black-coal eyes studied the members of the Kira-Case, especially Light Yagami, who sat with his back turn, eyes forward at the computer screen and the wheels in his mind turning. L still had his eyes on Light Yagami as Kira. Like Misa Amane, his personality change and it seemed that once the DeathNote was in his hands, he returned back into the cool, calculating college student with his hungry eyes on the prize. Besides, the 13-Day was too convenient.

Too convenient.

And Rem had more a maternal sense to Misa Amane than anyone else. Two notebooks meant two Shinigami, and L wondered where the other was, and more importantly if it belonged to the original Kira, aka Light Yagami.

"Say Light, youve finally free to leave headquarters, but it seems like you never go out. Even when Miss Amane comes to visit, you only chat with her for a few minutes outside. She seemed very distraught at your parting."

"Watching me, eh?" Light asked with a playful smile.

"How could I not, there are cameras covering every squared inch of this place.""


L took a sip of his tea. "You know, youre more of temporary help than anything. You are not completely obligated to the Kira-Case, physically or emotionally. Please feel free to have a love-life outside the Kira investigation."

"That can wait until weve managed to solve this case. I am not in the mood for love."

"Perhaps not," he mumbled. What an appropriate remark, and it was true enoughthere wasnt any time for love, even before the Kira-Case.

"Anyways, are you trying to suggest that I am a nuisance staying here?" Light asked turning around in his chair.

"No. Not at all."

L returned his eyes back to the computer screen, musing that something was not right. He had been thinking it, again and again. There was a 93% that Light Yagami was playing him, and the whole Kira-Task-Forced. He was uncharacteristically patient, and it suggested that he was waiting for something, something to happen.

But the bigger question remainedwhat was it?

Rubbing his temples the detective closed his eyes, trying to drown out the sound of those ringing bells.

Behind him the Kira-Task force members were listening with vague interest as the news came on. The young reporter said towards the camera and better yet, the teleprompter, "And today in local news, the Shusuke Foundation for Mental Health had to evacuate, due to a fire-alarm, which was later discovered to be a false-alarm rigged to smoke-bombs. An insider, who wish to remain anonymous reported the presence of the Wara Ningyo nailed to the scene."

Immediate at the mention of a Wara Ningyo at the scene, L froze and straightening his spine, perked his head up like a stalking tiger emerging from the tall grasses. Hitting a few buttons at the computer, he recorded the program onto the hard-drive and would examine it in much greater detail later. Rolling on the chairs wheel, he snatched the remote out of Matsudas hand, who was engorging himself on a stick of Pocky O, and turned up the volume.

"Hey!" he protested.

Soichiro Yagami demanded, "What is it, Ryuzaki?"

Could it be? No, there was no mistake, no question about it. It was him, it was Beyond Birthday.

"Is something wrong?"

"Is it Kira?" Aizawa asked.

"No," L replied hastily, "Nothing of the sort."

Looking up from their small, dainty computer screens, the remaining members of the Kira-Task Force, inched closer and watched the broadcast.

"We now turn to a comment by Head of Sercuity, Mr. Gonzo."

The camera panned towards a robust man dressed in uniform and he said shielding his eyes from the flashing lights, "Thankfully, no one was seriously injured during the evacuations. Some scrapes and bruises. It could not been much worse."

"And what of the Wara Ningyo found at the scene? Could it be a calling call?"

"Where are you getting your information?" he demanded suddenly, and then added with a softer tone, "We dont know the significance of that quite yet. It might have been a robbery. There is a report that some of their inventory is missing, but we are looking into it. Until then, we suggest that citizens remain alert, and all private and public buildings have increased their security."

The camera returned back to the news reporter.

"Nothing. Its just the news on Sakura TV," the detective answered as-matter-as-fact.

Hideki asked hesitantly, "Since when have you given a hoot about them, or anything they say?"

Its the new anchorwoman, isnt it," Matsuda teased with a less than modest wink, and nudged L in the ribs. "She is pretty hot, isnt it?"

L raised an eyebrow at him, and at his odd usage of vocabulary. "I have no way of knowing if she running a fever."

"No," he said. "Not hot as in temperature wise, but hot as in nice looking. Pretty."

Well that made more sense.

"You mean pleasing to the eye? That is an individual preference and I suppose on a large scale, the news reporter might be considered attractive, he mumbled. But she is not my type."

Matsuda frowned. "What is your type?"

Embarrassed at the personal invasion of the question he quickly returned his eyes back to the screen.

"That is enough," Soichiro Yagami snapped. "I fail to see how this relates."

L placed his fingers at his lips.

The news reporter continued, "There is concern that this might be the just the beginning of a ring of smoke-bomb attacks, terrorism, and possibly a future arson in the not too distant futurelast of all, our viewers have expressed concern whether this individual might delay the New World Ceremony sponsored by the WSKF, We-Support-Kira-Foundation, scheduled later this week, but Sakura TV reminds the good citizens that we shall continued as originally planned." The camera zoomed in closer. "Also, we invite the detective known as L, so he may see the great justice that Kira has done and maybe, together, they can bring a New World."

L shot the TV a mesmerizing, chilling intent look.

"What an idiot," Matsuda cried out angrily. "Like L would ever join forces with that murdering son of a bitch. Sorry, but that makes me so mad. I cannot wait to catch Kira, and put him where he belongs."

He nodded along, but his thoughts were far from what they were thinking.

So, it seemed that Beyond Birthday had finally a move, and yet L failed to comprehend the motivation for such an action, especially an assault on a Mental Hospital. There was a 9% chance that it was not him, and the while incident could have been a coincidence; however, according to his experience, there was no such thing as coincidence, only the illusion of coincidence. It did seem so out of character of him, attacking a pubic place, but B.B. hardy did anything without reason. There had to be a reason as to why

L pressed down on the intercom button and said, "Watari?"

The old man answered back, "Yes, Ryuzaki?"

"Is everything prepared as discussed?"


Aizawa asked, "Prepared what exactly?"

"Testing the DeathNote. I got approval to use the notebook in an execution."

Mogi jumped forward. "Whatever for? What are we testing for?"

"The 13-day rule."

Chewing on his thumbnail, L almost laughed at the irony about how the number 13 was similar to the letter B, and related back to the Los Angeles BB Murder Case. He proposed that 13 days should give Beyond Birthday plenty of time to finalize his plans, whatever they may be. After testing it, he would brief the Task-Force about B and then set up the manhunt to find him, and there was a 94% than B would go looking for Kira anyways and then L would have caught two serial killers for the price of one. It was a well-constructed plan, and yet he felt as though something was missing. A fatal flaw.

Unnoticed by L, Rem was standing behind him grinding down on her teeth.

Speaking into the intercom L said, "Watari. Please make arrangements to transport the notebook immediately."

"Stop Ryuzaki."

Matsuda cried out, "We cant do that! We already know the power of the notebook is real, dont we? That would be pointless."

"I am not testing whether the notebook is authentic, I am challenging the 13 day."

Hideki hissed, "Why? Because the letters are fucking ruff? That is a bunch of quack!"

"Not necessary." L finished his tea and sucked on the spoon. "A previous case of mine in 1999 dealt with the black-market selling pieces of valuable art, masterpiecesall of which were fakes. Roughness is a sign of forgery, or a recent addition to art."

Light Yagami protested, "Yeah, but the notebook is hardly art."

"On the contrary, if murder is the painting than the DeathNote is the paintbrush," L said, sounding too much like Beyond Birthday.

"Still," Matsuda yelled with a hand on Ryuzaki, "who is going to write the name? Once you write in the notebook. They have to obey the 13-Day rule, and keep writing names forever."

L repeated, "Again, if the rule is real." Taking a sip of his coffee-tea, L continued to explain, "I've prepared two death row inmates with the FBI. The notebook will be shipped with Watari, and to the prison. Inmate-A will write inmate Bs name in the notebook, and conform the result with inmate Bs death by heart-attack. Then we will wait thirteen days later. By doing so, we will prove the thirteen-day rule accuracy by observing whether or not inmate A dies."

Light Yagami asked, "And if the 13-day rule isnt real?"

The Shinigami insisted that it didnt know but if someone could kill by writing a name on a clipping from the notebook, it was not impossible, but whoever writes a name in this notebook has to wait another 13 days or die. Light Yagami and Miss Amane are still alive. 13 days. That is the only problem.

A problem that could be easily resolved.

"Than you, Light Yagami and Misa Amane are our prime suspects again and will be dealt accordingly."

Soichiro Yagami practically growled, "Ryuzaki, you still suggesting that my son."

L interrupted, "We are dealing with otherworldly forces. Regardless, of who is using the notebookI will still have to bring that person, whoever they might be, to justice. They will be executed."

Just then, L swore he saw Light Yagami smile.


Perfect, thought Light Yagami. Everything was going perfectly. Exactly as planned. Without anyone noticing, he stole a glance with Rem, who was glaring at him with murderous eyes. If looks could kill than he would be a pile of smoldering ashbut what did it mattered anyways? The Shinigami was powerless. Keeping his face under careful control, he gloated, What are you going to do Rem? I know that despite being a Shinigami, you have feelings for Misaand I am using them to my advantage. There is no way that would turn your back on her. Not now. Not that she half her lifespan twice. Think about her happiness

Looking at L he thought, Ive got you now, L.


The Death-God Rem felt a foreboding sense of dread wash over her, as she walked through the wall, and into a private room just beyond the eyes and ears of the Task-Force. She continued to grind down on her teeth, half-expecting them to crumble inside her mouth. How did it come to this? There was only figure to blame, and it was none other than that insufferable human, Kira, or the man who sought to be a God, Light Yagami.

"Light Yagami."

Closing her eyes Rem hissed with malice, "Light Yagami you knew this would happen, didnt you?"

"Of course, he did. He knew that she would do anything, and absolutely everything to save Misa-Misa."

"You knew this would happen, didnt you. Ever since I told you that a Reaper would die if they extend a human life, and now, you plotted to get Misa in this predicament, so I would have to save her. Kill the people threatening her life, and thus I would expand her life, and thus turn to rubble and sand. Just like Gelus. This was your plan from the start, wasnt it? Everything worked out in your favor." Shoulders sagging, the Shinigami reluctantly grabbed her DeathNote with a pen in hand, and opened to a blank page. "Plotting to kill a Reaper, you are really a devilbut Misa loves that man."

A voice called out dripping with sarcasm, "How sentimental."

Looking up, Rem nearly dropped her notebook out of surprise.

There was a curtain of impenetrable blackness in the corner, and it was quite noticeable against the sterile white walls. It was like liquid smoke, and within the animated smoke, an apparition was faintly visiblea figure that every Shinigami knew.

There was a harsh guttural sound, and the inky shadow seeped back like rolling ocean waves returning back to the bosom of Poseidon. A figure emerged, tentacles still clinging to a large head, an emaciated frame with wobbling, bony limbs. It was large, toweringly tall like a judging god, and yet, the shaped looked so regular and even solid enough. The cloud of shadow just sat there, motionless, as if confronting the Death-God.

As frightening as the apparition looked, it was disquietly familiar to Rem.

"Such weakness is reserved for humans," said the figure.

The Shinigami peered into the darkness gathering in the near concern. The Shinigami breathed out, "My Lord?"

A hand, with fingers as long as a childs arm emerged from the cloud of shadow, heavily emaciated like a Holocaust victim with loose, gray-blue skin so translucent that yellow parchment bone could be seen. An arm followed, then a shoulder and finally a head, complete with wispy bread that reached the floor. There was a gaping, black cave that served as a mouth, and as the thin lips pulled back, there was a row of tightly packed teeth thin as toothpicks.

It was the King of the Shinigami.

The Old Man was the prima eve of all Death-Gods.

He was the first, and would be the last.

The King of the Death-Gods was in original form. Gone was the sweet, girlish form of Quarter

Queen that Beyond Birthday had seen, and now it was replaced with a horrifying image, something impossibly alien.

"I am aware of all my subjects, of my children, and yet, I am taken back by this. What a calamity, a tragedy," he said, drawling in a wheezy gasp. "It seems you have taken a likeness towards them, just like Gelus," the Old Man said, inching closer as the surrounding shadows shed off, revealing more detail of his gruesome, angular body."

"He was my brother," Rem pointed out silently.

"Yes, daughter he was. Now, no more than dust in the wind. A mere memory." He said in a throaty, sputtering gasp, "than again, I suppose you are no different than him or Ryuk for that matter. Ryuk is your brother too."

"We are nothing alike," the Death-God snapped.

"Tendency to be around humans?" he challenged. "Is it a habit or a preference? Ryuk socializes around humans strictly for entertainment purposes, and you have a maternal instinct for them, or at least for one." The Shinigami-King replied in a low guttural hiss, "That draft blond, is a rather appropriate, if not perfect representation of the fragile, nave human species isnt she?"

Rems eyebrow twitched at the insult.

"Mmm," he mused, "Could it be that a human is," he paused wondering, "what do those insects refer it as ah, your Achilles Heel?"

The Death-God remained motionless, and unyielding to the harassment, even if it was from her father, the Shinigami-King.

"Nevertheless, Ryuk loves his fun, does he not? At first, his games were charming in the childish, idiotic way, and now, its annoying. I am seriously displeased. Perhaps it is safe to say that he is the origin of all this meddlesome troublebut no matter, he shall be dealt accordingly. A visit is necessary. The burden falls on me to find a remedy to his chaos. And this blatant act will cost him greatlybut not nearly as much as you, it seems."

Rem spared a glance to look at her notebook, the marked page still empty.

The Old Man paused, setting his vacant stare towards Rem, "Did you learn nothing from Gelus? Tell me Rem," the Old Man asked sincerely with his face distorted into confusion and then blatant rage, "am I do blame for this? Was I not clear in my instructions? Now, whatever are you doing, better yet, why?"

"I do it for Misa," she said.

The King scoffed, and if possible, the shadows darkened. "If you expand that humans life-span, you surrender your own. It becomes your demise. As a Death-God, you cannot be life."

"I know the consequences. She will be happy," Rem explained, placing the pen on the page.

"Do you really think that she will remember you, least of all, your act of kindness? Your maternal sacrifice? Their thoughts are fleeting, and selfish. Rem, your human-pet already has Gelus to her credit, must she add you to her collection? Worse of all, she is a pawn for him, that human who desires to be a God, though he is mortal. She may live today, but he may kill her tomorrow." He inched closer. The King lifted up a finger, moving it slowly as if he had all the time in the world or just the act of it was exhaustingafter all, he was practically ageless. Old as humanity. "I am not a beggar, but I ask you to reconsider. Do not write in that notebook."

"Forgive me father," she said, writing the first nameQullish Wammy. "I have no choice."

And then the second L Lawliet

"It is all about choice, child."


There was a choking, dying sound from the other side of the computer screen as Watari slumped against it, eyes drooping. His wrinkled hand reached out, determined to complete one mission before death, he pressed a red button, and at once, everything went black. A tab popped up, Deleting Files, just as Wataris heart beat one last time, and then grew still. All the Kira-Task-Force could do was watch helplessly and powerlessly as countless man-hours disappeared, without any trace that they ever existed.

L breathed out in horror, "Watari."

"Whoa! What is going on?"

"The files."


"I told Watari to delete everything if something should happen--The Shinigami," he cried out angrily. "Where is the--"

Suddenly Ryuzaki-L felt a violent tightness in his chest and froze, paralyzed by the intense, ever persistent and growing pain. L had calculated the possibility of his own death more times than he truly cared to count, and now, he felt the crude reality bearing down upon him. His breath stopped in his lungs and his mouth gaped open desperate to quench his thirst for air. Sweat glistened on his forehead and upper lip. Staring forward with wide eyes, the silver spoon in his hand clattered to the floor and the sound was deafening. The world was turning dark and blurry, and all he could feel was the pain in his chest and his lungs as they ached. L Lawliet could hear the horrible, pounding silenceand just the bells, sounding his funeral.

L sagged in the chair and slid off. Now, the floor was coming at him at slow pace, and he was falling, falling.

Fallingfalling into an endless, bleak abyss.

At once a pair of arms engulfed him, embracing his dying body and the owner was none other than Light Yagami. "Ryuzaki!"

"Were all going to die. The Shinigami is going to kill us."

Mastuda moaned, "No, no, no. No!"

The world was turning dark and blurry and all he could feel was the pain in his chest and hear the silence, horrible, pounding silence. He tensed, his body jerking. Just the bells, sounding his funeral.

Now, his eyes felt heavyso terribly heavy.

Still through the graining darkness, there was the faint image of a pearly-white smile grinning down at hima triumphant smirk.


Rem closed the book with a snap. "It is done."

She smiled, even as her lips started to chap and flake off.

The Old Man did not look flustered, merely disappointed.

Then he smiled.

He said, "Your noble, motherly intentions are all in vain, Rem. And Im afraid that I must interfere. This move of yours has forced my hand. I hoped avoiding this confrontation but as humans say desperate times call for desperate measures."

Straightening up, there on his sunken, bony chest, was a crudely sewed suture-line that ran from clavicle, down the sternum and down to tip of the pubis bone. Slipping a finger as long as childs arm underneath, the Old Man pulled, undoing the feeble thread, and his bowels spilled out, landing on the black and white tiled floor with a wet, sickening spat. He reached into the gaping, empty cavity and pulled out something, a thin notebook.

Not just any notebook, but a white one with a layer of dust.

"It seems that Death-Gods and humans alike, children do not listen to their parents."

Jaw trembling Rem breathed out, "It can't exist."

"Yes, even rumors have some lick of truth," he responded gravely, writing a name with his long, thin fingers. "Spare me that look, Rem. I crafted the DeathNote and its rules, and thus I have the innate privilege of breaking them. Besides, if you are going to craft the most dangerous weapon, you better have an antidote."

You said yourself, "we cannot be life."

"There has to be life before death," he pointed out.

Rem stepped forwards, and yet, despite her intention, her legs crumbed into a growing pile of ash and dust. "No. Please."

The King of the Shinigami knelt down, his joints protesting and bending in odd angles. He loomed over her. "Maybe I am growing sentimental. I am only writing one name. You will have only died for one death. Maybe that might bring you closure."

The quivering pile demanded, "Why? Why? You hate them. Hate humans. Why save one?"

Stroking his beard he replied, "Same as you, RemI made a choice, and so did Beyond Birthday."

His empty sockets bored down upon her.

She whispered still having a mouth, "You found them, didnt you? You found your--"

With a nod of satisfaction the Old Man replaced the notebook into his chest cavity, and gathering up his split intestines, crudely shoved them back inside. His fingers took the dangling thread and sewed himself back up, his secret treasure buried deep inside. A rather ironic image of life within death.

"That I did."


Light Yagami returned to the central corner room after finally, finding the pile of ash that used to be the Death-God Rem, and then the smoldering remains of her DeathNote. So, it seemed that she didnt want him to have her killing notebook. It was a childish play, thinking that it would ruffle his feathers. Kira shrugged his shoulders, as he imagined that somehow it gave her great satisfaction, a final stab at him before she died. Before she sacrificed herself. He wanted huffed a short laugh, but with a great deal of self-control managed not to, partly because of the other members in the room. There would be plenty of time later.

"The Shinigami is gone," Light reported drearily.

No one acknowledged him; instead, their interest was focused on the body of Ryuzaki lying on the floor.

Ryuzaki, or better known as the fable L.

Finally, he was dead.

He was a formable enemy, worthy of Kira but he needed to die.

He looked closer at the scene before him, and with a tinge of disgust realized that the Kira-Task Force was trying to help L. It was almost comical, if not a little embarrassing. He watched their fruitless effortsas his father ran over with an oxygen tank and placed a mask over Ls mouth and nose, yanking it up to the maximum content. He encouraged him to breathe, Its okay, Ryuzaki. Take it in. Nice and slow. Mogi was holding him, and probed his head on his lap. Matsuda was holding his hand, tears trailing down in his face. Aizawa and Hideki looked on speechless.

"What are you doing?" Light said, "Just stop it. Hes gone. Ryuzaki is gone."

Matsuda cried out, "No hes' not."

His father looked up at him, a smile on his face. "It's true, Light. Ryuzaki is alive."

"What?" he gasped, still not believing it.

"I've got a pulse. Steady, and hes breathing. Shallow."

"Watari?" he asked.

"He is dead," Mogi said sadly.

Light frowned, thinking it wasnt possible. The effects of the DeathNote were absolute, and could not be reversed. And then, he saw it. True enough, there was a pulse in Ls chest and his lungs, as shallow as they may be were taking in air. Naturally, he was pale, his skin almost transparent; but, L was paler than what Light remembered, and briefly it gave him the appearance of a reanimated corpse. His limbs, always slender, looked unexpectedly gaunt, emaciated. In fact, his body seemed limp. Suddenly, he stirred, arching his back and moving his head to the side.

Eyes still close, and if someone with Shinigami-Eyes were there, they would have seen a spectacular sight, hovering above his head was not one, but two life-spans. One froze in time, and the other ticking.


Authors Notes

Pocky OA Japanese sweet. Think about a long peztle covered it chocolate. They are quite addictive.

Next chapter, is called Frightful Awakenings and Naomi Misora wakes up in Beyonds tender care. He has another plan to get Kiras attention, just as L wakes up.

Hoped to enjoyed it. See you soon.