I'm sorrysorrysorry about the huge delay! This chapter is a teaser for the rest of the story now that I'm picking it up again, just to whet your appetites! Hopefully I've returned a better writer for the time gap, and I hope you enjoy the plot! Reviews, as always, keep me going, but I won't stop because of them. Oh, by the way, if anyone would like to beta this story, I'd be much obliged! :)

DISCLAIMER:I DO NOT OWN DEATH NOTE, TSUGUMI OHBA DOES! If I did, this story would probably be the anime, instead of the real plot. d:

The creaking of a swivel chair broke the sound of silence, while the stars guarded the slumber of Japan. The night sky swirled overhead, creating flowing patterns and lethargic lullabies to gently coax sleep over those who had not yet surrendered to it. Very few had not, and the most prominent was Yagami Raito. His bedroom window open to the night, he laughed in the face of the moon who so vainly attempted to conquer him. No, he would sleep in his own time, and even then it would be an allowance-never a submission.

Or, he would laugh aloud, if only the rooms below did not house his parents, who already had reason enough to fear for his fleeing sanity. And the open window, as the neighbors would surely panic should they hear the sound. Indeed, Raito's mental disposition was slowly dripping away, as difficult as it was to admit-although, if he could not have the wit to see truths, what hope existed for exposing lies?

The whole situation was L's fault, all of it. Days upon each other the detective tempted him in ways he'd only recently discovered, in ways that must be artfully devised. How could anyone look and act in such a way unknowingly?

Raito could not fathom how he'd possibly entwine L into any plan of his making. Watari, cameras, the task force, their entire environment fought to overcome his desires. Would he drug L? Use force? Coerce him? The endless list of possibilities danced just close enough for notice, yet distant enough to hide its secrets, and those tranquil black moons in a cherubic face mocked him in his own dreams.

He smoothed his hair, the attractive front always of the most importance in hiding the demon bubbling beneath. It's silky texture did little to calm him, a strange thing for a narcissist such as him. Whatever else he did, Raito would not draw any passing suspicion to himself. He would not.

And though he'd promised so fervently to never capitulate his waking moments to the insanity of darkness, the moon outside lulled him into the stupor of unconsciousness.

He awoke angry every morning without fail, Raito's fretful mood due to the night's activities. Such a waste, to spend half his day sleeping when he could accomplish an abundance of things whilst his "peers" lay catatonic to all. His mordant humor owed also to his dreams, full of failure, ignorance, and L.

Perhaps with more careful observation a hole would appear in those carefully erected defenses, and it could be stretched just large enough to permit entry, or more importantly, allow L to be taken.

School was only a meager portion of his life now. Sure, it required daily attendance, but the establishment merely served a function, much like eating or using the restroom. Don't even get him started on sleep.

His days revolved around the building before him more than anything. The glass door to the task force headquarters reflected his image in the rays of sunlight, emitting nothing but silence upon opening. A cup of coffee found it's way beside a highly functional keyboard as Raito seated himself, purposefully trying not to pay L any special notice.

The detective, however did look at him, probably alerted by his father's warm greeting. A nearly painful sensation seeped across him where he could literally feel that gaze spewing icy gales at his back. He automatically returned the bland chorus of "Good afternoon Yagami-Kun", experiencing a shiver of pleasure when he coolly regarded L's angelic face. Heavens, if he felt that by just looking at him...

He sighed heavily, turning to the less-inspiring vision of a computer screen. Oh boy. He could visualize the marionette strings in his head when the sound of Ryuuzaki's typing whispered into his ears. It was the same, every day, ever since he'd met the detective. He would have him. He would have him.

Another cup of coffee accompanied him home in the unholy hours of the morning, only far stronger than its predecessor. The thump of footsteps carried Raito through a street of stores that lay between his current location and destination. Only a few windows radiated light, and one such building immediately took his attention prisoner. On display in the windows were rows of tightly packed porcelain dolls.

The poet in him called it fate, the cynic welcomed a happy coincidence, and the Kira in him nearly heaved a morbid groan of lust. His feet particularly enjoyed the doorway.

Beautiful dolls, everywhere, from all across the world. Raito felt a stirring of desire in the pit of his stomach, and thoughts of L rushed forth. His shapely fingers brushed the cheek of a slender Athena, the chiseled arms of Napoleon, the statuesque features of a Geisha. What ingrate would ever break such an object? What uncultured brute could possibly deny such things? The beautiful, twisting bodies entrenched on this aged oak shelf hailed him, called him master, would obey his slightest, wildest command. If only they were L, if only his two favorite things were the same! His baby-like cheeks surpassed Athena's meaty face! The translucent wings of his arms more than rivaled Napoleon's apelike limps! His seraphic countenance put any geisha's clumpy excuse of a face to shame!

He felt the unwelcome presence far before it reached him, of course, courtesy of his sharp intuition. A crooked, hunched, ojiisan gave him a secret smile, and a cryptic gaze. His weather worn face matched the moth bitten tsumigi*.

"I see you have an interest in dolls. That is very rare in those your age."

Raito hated being spoken down to, especially by such an ancient relic, but he retained his perfect manners. "Ah, yes. These are very lovely." That is, until he mentally compared them to L.

"Oho, I see. Do you have any preference?"

Raito surveyed the agile, wrinkled fingers, and a sudden flash of inspiration set his mind aflame. "Ojiisan, do you take commissions?" He asked curiously, his conversation partner surprised at the sudden nature of it.

"I say! How odd that you should ask! Most of my wares are indeed of my own make, so yes, I suppose I could make an exception for a fellow collector. Do you have anything in mind?"

Raito smiled. "Why yes, I do."

Someone had entered his room, as usual. Such had been the case for far too long, in his opinion. The bed squeaked under Raito's weight, and he surveyed his hand gravely. Ryuk floated nearby, bulging eyes voraciously consuming every action, lusting to see what he would do next.

Raito never had problems planning. Usually, he would give it a few moments thought, then his ideas literally soared in out of nowhere, but now, they limped about like dying insects. An entirely unseemly picture, to be honest.

The only things he'd given much thought to were some of the things he wanted to do to L, or musings over his perfection. But the absurdity of that rang clear. For one, when L finally entered his grasp, how would Raito communicate? Surely in that situation, he would grow hostile, refuse any fellowship, and be utterly difficult.

The easiest answer also presented itself as the most difficult. He could...train him? Make him as obedient as a dog, take that accursed pride, and mold him into the perfect doll? Such an act defied every standard society had, violated L's humanity, and crushed the ideals he'd learned as a child.

But, society was also wicked. What need did he have of its inferior thinking?

Yet, the decision to recreate L also raised new questions, about how he would do so. How did one train a dog? They punished every wrongdoing, but Raito had no desire to chip such fine porcelain! He pondered long and hard about where to keep him as well, and had decided on a certain place where they'd be undisturbed. He could perhaps move out as well, but he was forgetting something.

What on earth was it?

*A tsumigi is a type of casual kimono