Author's note: I felt obligated to post this unfinished, miniature chapter; it has been sitting around for years, literally. Almost once a month, I get a message from a reader who wants to know if I will continue. Honestly, I want to. However, what we want to do is not always what we do. Hopefully, I will.
Disclaimer: I do not own death note and I do not own the "Hurts" lyrics.
Chapter 28 (Part 1)
Beyond often wondered why he ever agreed to this job, to be Smile's assistant. When he met Raito, the detective had been younger than him and more close minded. In fact, years ago, Beyond would have pegged Raito Yagami as the type of person who could be so consumed in his sense of justice that he became a killer.
Smile could have been Kira in another life. And, Beyond could have been yet another victim of the vigilante. The thought of Raito bringing about his demise caused a shudder to pass through the red and black haired man's form.
Glancing down at the inconspicuous notebook in his hand, Beyond reassured himself that the nightmare he was imaging had little place in reality. The death note was doubtlessly one of the most interesting weapons in existence; the ability to kill with a name was fear-inspiring, dreadful, and simultaneously wonderful. Without the joint effort of Smile and L, Beyond doubted the world would ever see the end of Kira.
For a moment, less than a second, Beyond wondered if he could keep the book. It was not as if he would actually use it; he would just have it as a keepsake, a souvenir if you will. Glancing around to check for any potential watchers, Beyond made a decision and opened the book. The white pages at the beginning were lined with names, but the rest was empty and begging to be written in.
"Like my Death Note, Beyond Birthday?"
The bleak darkness of the night was contrasted by the artificial light shining forth from the second story of the quaint English brick manor. Due to the stark difference in lighting, the side of the window facing the inside of the building acted as a mirror. If the occupants of the room were to look in the clean glass plane at that moment they would see themselves. However, as the window plane recorded, the reflections of the two men were focused on one another.
One of the two was perched on the chair in his usual, though unusual if it had been anyone else, position with his knees drawn up to his chest and his bare toes exposed as the support of his body. Across from the awkward man, a well-dressed and obviously traditional man gazed at the papers in front of him. Both men seemed consumed by unspeakable agony.
L had been a resident of Whammy's House, of course, which meant that he was not unfamiliar with loss. At some point, he had lost his parents; he lost many friends due to his superior intelligence; he lost Beyond due to the desire the boy had to become a murderous image of himself. Watari though was the most terrible loss he had faced. The man had always supported him and basically created the image of 'L the great detective.' Raising a hand to his mouth in contemplation, the dark haired detective pressed his thumb against his lips.
"It's as much your fault as it is mine," the well composed man spoke softly.
"You have no blame, Roger." L's words, though sincere, offered no comfort.
"I could have told you both not to take on such a case. It is unnatural; the way Kira kills is something that cannot be understood by our feeble minds, no matter how intelligent we may be."
Biting harshly at his own thumb, L took offense at Roger's assertion. "I almost caught Kira. Any criminal can be caught and justice will prevail."
"But at what cost?"
And that was the question of the year.
Mail examined the man standing across from him. What type of name was Light? And, based on the wording and the public fear of Kira, the name was a pseudonym. So, why would a person make up the name? It was almost pretentious. The word light is often used for wisdom or guidance. This person could be claiming unspeakable amounts of knowledge that illuminates those around him.
Or, it could be related to his real name. If it had been a woman, and not of Japanese descent, Mail would have guessed Lucy or Ellen. Searching his knowledge of common male names in Japan, he could off hand think of two names for light: Hiroaki and Toshiaki. However, another possibility occurred to him, maybe the name was a pronunciation of another name.
"So your name is Raito?" Mail asked, feeling confident in his conclusion.
"And yours is Mail, right?" Raito's question made Mail's feeling of confidence and security vanish. "It looks like it is about time to go in," the older of the two continued without acknowledging the change of attitude in the other. "The weather is a bit chilly."
Walking with a deliberately slow pace, Raito allowed Mail to stay in step with him. Neither of them tried to start up a conversation again. As if to add to the somber mood, the light from Mail's game finally died out.
Raito glanced at the sky, where the stars seemed especially bright. For a single moment, he imagined a constellation that formed a smiling face, and then it vanished. The doors to Whammy's House creaked as Raito pulled them open. Whispers could be heard down the corridor; insomnia and genius children always seemed to have a correlation.
"Which way to Roger's office?"
"Upstairs and to the left," Mail drawled over a forged yawn and began to walk away from the staircase.
Following the directions given, Raito began up the staircase and listened for the subtle noises of the young boy following him. Hopefully, L would not be talking about anything too personal for the unsolicited audience.
When he reached the well-lit office to the right of the staircase, Raito entered without hesitation.
And I won't let you drown, when the water's pulling you in
I'll keep fighting, I'll keep fighting.
The rain's going to follow you wherever you go.
The clouds go black and the thunder rolls
And I see lightning, and I see lightning
When the World surrounds you, I'll make it go away
Paint the sky with silver lining.