Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!

This is thy sheath;

There rust, and let me die.

-Juliet, Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespear

Act 5. Scene III


Roger looked at the little girl surprised. "Why do you want that alias, Alistair? It's very…peculiar."

The little girl of six years smile; a toothy grin that caused a shiver to go down Roger's spine.



A sudden bucket of unsettling ice water poured down his back.

"In the house across from mine, was a man named that. We were great friends for a month," she said with bubbling joy at sharing her story. "And in that month, we shared many secrets and we discovered we both shared a great and cursed ability. I always idolized him, he was my God, and I worshipped the ground he walked on." Words that sounded odd coming from a little green eyed girl. Words that belonged to an adult. An obsessed, stalker of an adult.

"We thought it weird that two people could have such unique abilities in the same community. He told me how his parents died. And some inner workings on how they died," she was not about to tell this person she barely knew about how he could see life spans and how he explained it to her.

"But then he left," an odd tone of despair, bordering on rage seeped into her voice. "He left. And I don't want to forget him. To forget my God would be a sin. And I am not a sinner."

Roger nodded and wrote her alias down as "Beyond Birthday" wincing. L would no doubt look at him weird for allowing it.



It was an insignificant matter to her.


Then Life.

And finally death.

But was it really death?

Was there ever a truly final destination in which humans went to?

It seemed preposterous to her, frivolously (or as frivolously as she of all people could achieve) musing about life and death like some crack pot philosopher. Who was she to question the matters of the cosmos?

She had learned from many that it was foolish to do so.

"We will be a distraction for Mello, right?" she asked with little to no feeling, looking at the red haired man through what only Shinigami saw as red eyes.

"Yeah," Matt said, sparring her a kind smile before going right back to his video game.

Her eyes flickered above his head before she began fiddling with the gun in her hands, running her hands over it's cold, metal contours and angles—admiring the work of art and weaponry.


The Kira case.

And unnecessary havoc.

Three main things that caused her to want to yank her hair out and screech her frustrations out into the skies, to who ever would listen to her.

Her idol had died, but he had been dead to her for many years before his actual death. Her idol's enemy had died as well.

Shinigami and Kira.

Those two words could send her into a horrible rage, if ever uttered.

Which was precisely why she working herself to death to banish both from the world, no matter how it might further taint her dark soul.


Dipping her hands into the jar, she happily lapped up the substance dripping down her hand, silently admiring the way it stained her hands red and the rather sticky sound it made when she let it dry.

"BB," Matt said from the door, shifting from uncomfortably, sparing a look to the room. Swathed in shades of black and red, some silky scarlets that imitated liquid...spidery black shall tossed over her desk to seem like cobwebs. Anyone else were to walk in and they would turn tail and go back the way they came.

But that was a given, no one liked being near her, not since she took up her idol's alias of B. They did not like the way she copied him in many ways, and they did not like the way her eerie eyes settled on them, blank green eyes boring into their souls and selling them out.

However Matt had never been particularly scared of her, neither Mello nor Near nor Linda. So the only probable reason he would have been so nervous was if something incredibly and horrifically bad had happened.

Did Mello accuse him of hiding his chocolate again? Or had he stolen Mello's chocolate money for a new video game? Both were quite possible, since he sought refuge in her room whenever either happened.

"Yes, Matt?" she asked, flashing a wide grin and getting to her feet quickly, spilling some jam onto the white carpet.

"Mello and Near, they were called to Roger's office…I think we should wait outside for them…" he said uncertainly, fiddling the hem of his striped shirt.

B tilted her head to one side before nodding, one chunk of light brown hair landing in front of her eyes.

"Right," she grabbed his elbow and pulled him to Roger's office. "Let's go then, before Mello throws something fragile at our heads again."

Matt didn't complain about her strawberry stained fingers staining his shirt.

She just played that off to boys (and her) not caring about how they looked.


She hummed a tune under her breath, a long out dated song.

She glanced above Matt's head again, a light frown tugging at her lips before she turned her eyes skyward.

Beyond tugged on the sleeve of her black dress.

Dresses were convenient when long sleeved and paired with good old jeans. The color black was also convenient for hiding any stains, any scarlet stains on her person…or the cloth.

She did not care for what other people said about her eating habits or her attire. No, that was just as insignificant to her as life was. Everything would perish, anyways, so why bother with keeping up appearances? Why seek out attention from so many judging eyes when either way everyone would end up six feet under in their own personal landfill?

The only reason she was not running around in the black T-shirt she had stolen from the laundry that she had had for years was the fact that Matt had convinced her that it was disgusting and needed to be burned.

Which was when he bought her many of the ensemble she was wearing now.

She was no fool.

She knew that Matt held more than friendly or sisterly affection for her.

And she was not going to be such an ignoramus as to say that her own affection didn't surpass those bindings either.


"Mail," she called, seeing him pack his duffel bag, hers already on her shoulder. "Mail Jeevas, you do not like me." She said flatly.

The red head looked at her surprised, "What would make you think that, Beyond? And stop calling me Mail! My name's Matt."

Her eyes flickered above his head, reading the name again as if to prove to him that he was lying. "You look at me with a soft look in your eyes. You do not like me in the same way that Mello does."

Matt fisted his hand before closing his duffle and picking it up off the ground. "No…" he answered slowly. "I don't like you the way that Mello does."

And then they set off, at fifteen, to go set off into the world without so much as a goodbye to anyone in the orphanage. No one knew them really well anyways, they were just

Hopefull, they would find Mello.

Mihael Keehl, she thought. Not the most popular name. I shall keep an eye out for you, Mello.


Beyond looked at Matt once more.

Mello had been someone who they both looked out for.

They both took falls for the older blonde boy, and were both willing to stick their necks out for him.

Matt helping him with his technological know how.

And her with her overall knowledge of disguise and her certain affinity for seeing names and life spans.

Mello was someone who they could both have in common. And who they could make fun of while he sulked, and who they could turn to when they were a tad bit baffled.

Beyond Birthday.

She also had that in common with Mello.

They had both known, or known of someone name Beyond.

She had caught Mello writing some notes that he titled "Death Note: Another Note The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases."

She had thought it was some sort of play on her name.

But then she pushed him for answers rather forcefully and he told her the tale of her idol.

Beyond Birthday.

About how he attempted to fool L.

And almost succeeded.

Beyond glanced at Matt, over his head again. Her eyes clouding over a bit as she saw the numbers ticking down.

She got up from her seat, stowing the gun in the pocket of her jeans.

She strolled to Matt purposely, standing directly in front of him, pressing pause on his game with delicate small hands and lifting his chin up to look her straight in the eyes. The green eyes that he saw, but the red eyes that she saw out of.


"Matt?" she called softly, arranging her make-up and wigs a bit as they waited for their plane to arrive.

"Hmm?" he answered, still playing his video game.

"Would you ever tell me your real name?" she questioned, pulling her legs up on the seat and wrapping her arms around them, a chunk of hair landing in front of her eyes as she slouched some.

"You already know my name," he pointed out, the flashing lights of a Charizard vs Pikachu casting weird reflections on his orange tinted goggles.

She smiled, one of those slightly discerning smiles she had picked up from her idol. "Yes, but you've never actually told me. I found out through other means. Would you tell me? Ever?"

Matt looked up at her as his Charizard did a little victory dance. She leaned closer to him, big green eyes staring straight him.

She always thought that some extra bit of warmth would sink into his eyes every once in while as they talked. And this was no exception.

He gave her a small smile, his eyes warming, "Sure. One day."


She brushed hair out of his eyes and took off his goggles, ignoring his curious look.

She dipped her head, closing her eyes and savoring how his lips felt on hers.


"You know, it sort of weird how you can see life spans and names," Matt mentioned off handedly one day while he was fiddling with a ton of wires and monitors for Mello.

She gave a closed lip smile, absently mindedly fiddling with his pack of cigarettes. "Hmm, and it is sort of weird how you enclose yourself in doors and simply play video games when you are nineteen years old."

He chuckled, "You make it sound like I'm jumping into an envelope and shipping myself off to my none-existent grandma's house. 'Enclosed,' psssh." He looked up, flashing a brilliant grin. "You have no room to talk anyways! You hate going out doors!"

She gave a coy look, "You have me there."

You'll always have me.


She pulled away, all too aware of his eyes on hers as his breath fanned across her face, his taste lingering on her lips.

"What was that for?" he asked softly, reaching out his hand to brush a few stray hairs out of her face.

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around him, leaning up to place a small kiss on his neck.

She wanted him. All of him.

And those numbers ticking down certainly showed how little amount of time she had to be with him.


"Matt?" she asked, looking at a magazine owlishly.


She bit her lip, tilting her head sideways at the magazine. "Am I pretty?"

Matt about choked on the sandwich he had been munching on and quickly put it down as Mello thumped him on the back, paying more attention to Amane Misa's ramblings and whatnot. "Excuse me?!"

"Am I pretty?" she repeated, blinking.

Matt swallowed uncomfortably. "Well, you have nice short light brown hair…and you have startling green eyes…"

But I see red eyes, she noted morbidly and nodded as a sign of "go on."

"And…er, your small and delicate…and have a goofy, big smile…"

A slight warmth spread across her cheeks. "You have a nice smile, too, Matt."

"Uh-huh," he said, shifting again. "What brought all this on?"

She held up the magazine with one hand, peeking around the side and letting it fall open to the center page. "This magazine said girls are supposed to be pretty. I am a girl. Therefore I wanted to know if I was pretty."

Matt nearly fell onto his back at her spark of naïveté.


"TURN!" Beyond yelled as they ran away from the security guards and Takada's bodyguards.

And all too soon they were surrounded.

Beyond took another look above Matt's head and frowned as they were forced to come to a stop. She blinked and wiped furiously at her face as wet tears slipped down her porcelain skin.

The last scene.

The last act.

Beyond grabbed his chin, taking out his cigarette and roughly turning his head to kiss him, sure that the desperation shown through.

And she surreptitiously climbed over him and got out of the car before him. She looked him in the eyes and he finally saw how hopeless they were and how she kept glancing above his head.

"My name is Mail Jeevas," he muttered.

He turned to the people that surrounded them, "Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Since when have the Japanese been allowed to carry such nice guns? I'm an accomplice in the kidnapping of Takada. Don't you have a bunch of questions to ask me? What's the point in firing—"

Her eyes widened in horror and she quickly jumped in front of him, turning her back to the shooters and hugging Matt.

The bullet's pierce her skin, and the red the fascinated her so much dripped down her, soaked her clothes.

It used to fascinate her.

Now it was terrifying her as she saw Matt's blood mixing with her own.

"M-m-my n-name is A-a-alistair B-b-Blackeburg," she muttered as they both fell onto the blood sodden ground.

And I love you.


From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last!

Arms, take your last embrace! And, lips, O you

The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss

A dateless bargain to engrossing death!

Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide!

Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on

The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark!

Here's to my love!

O true apothecary!

Thy drugs are quick! Thus with a kiss I die

-Romeo, Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespear

Act 5. Scene III