To Morro, the Merge wasn’t remembered because of the change in landscape.
For him, it was the day he lost his wind.
~~~
AKA How Morro became guardian of the Spectral Lands
(Fic below the cut)
Everybody remembered the Merge. For most people, it was confusion and terror as lands crashed together from all around. Families got separated from each other, never to be seen again. Homes were destroyed and everything you knew was flipped up on your head. However, when it came to the Departed Realm, turmoil had already began long ago. It had started after the death of the Preeminent. To Morro, the Merge wasn’t remembered because of the change in landscape. For him, it was the day he lost his wind.
At the time, the departed and cursed souls were attempting to get along. After all, nothing really mattered what happened during your previous life since everyone was dead now anyway. When the Preeminent had returned from wherever she had disappeared (some saying back to the realm of ninjago), out of her spilled all of the cursed. But it wasn’t just that. As her body decayed, the area surrounding it became inhabitable, anybody getting too close would poof out of existence.
Morro mostly kept to himself. He didn’t have anybody waiting for him in the Departed Realm anyway (if anything, he might even have enemies through people he wronged during his endeavor to find the tomb of the First Spinjitzu Master). He did what a lot of ghosts ended up doing; renting a place to live in, ignore your neighbors, and give whatever is deemed worthy enough to be considered the cost of your dorming. Luckily, the owner of the small inn had been a departed soul not all too interested in cash or holding favors over your head. What was the point of that anymore? Instead, Morro would just be told to “pay each month, whenever you can”. Sometimes Morro would bring in what he saw as pitiful amounts of chopped lumber from the spiny limbs of decaying trees. Other times, he’d offer his fighting skills, or maybe use a gust of wind to help put up things in previously unreachable places. Paying his debt each month was one of the few things that kept his mind from spiraling into regret over the things he had done. Yes, Sensei Wu had seemed to forgive him of all of his wrongdoings, but that didn’t erase the fact that he did those things, or that it still bothered Morro whenever he looked back at his younger self.
Another way to keep busy was the idea of creating his own weapon. Morro would whittle away strips of wood until creating a staff-like pole. Next, he had began to drive in stone blades he had sharpened himself into both tips of the weapon. Whenever he wished to, Morro could toss the weapon in the air and watch it spin rapidly through use of his wind powers, akin to some sort of deadly windmill blade. With a smirk and a little bit of pride in his handiwork, the ghost wondered if maybe that could become his new purpose: crafting weapons that only someone imaginative could come up with. You want a blade that could somehow unfold itself to reveal even more sharp edges all while returning to you after thrown? Well, Morro had no idea how to make that, but it would be fun to try. Besides, if it made possible customers happy (or really at this point, just random people he’d give gifts to), then why not?
This idea quickly was thrown out of his mind when Morro felt his entire room shake, as well as distant screams from outside. The ghost hurried over to one of the walls in order to keep stones and logs from rolling off shelves and onto the ground. Random drawers and everything on top of desks began to tremble, slightly vibrating and moving to drop as well. With a confused sigh of exasperation, Morro watched as things began to fall in groups. His attention had been diverted, leading to him loosening his grip on the material above him and letting them bonk his head before rolling onto the ground.
Grinding his teeth, Morro grabbed his double edged staff and headed outside with a refrained sprint. Momentarily, his weapon fell to the ground as his widening eyes took in the panicked souls around him. A few were running around, dodging earth and buildings from crashing into them. Others stood unnervingly still, eyes looking up towards something unseen. The chaos surrounding Morro faded into a faint buzzing in his ears as he watched those who stood by smile before they dissolved into a golden light and dissipated. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as the ghost watched people one by one fade away, all within the span of twenty seconds. Pushing himself through what felt like heavy currents, Morro ran up to one of the people staring up at the sky and grabbed her shoulders, trying to shake away the glossy look in her eyes as a small smile began creeping onto her face. Morro’s voice seemed to barely choke out,
“We need-to get out of here! Something’s wrong with…” The ghost’s words died in his mouth as the figure in front of him shined brightly with white and gold light, before dissolving in his grasp. Morro’s hands trembled as he watched remnants of lights disappear from his palms. The buzzing in his ears started rising into a roar as he slowly turned his head to look around, numbly trying not to topple over as he did so. A few stray spirits waved Morro towards them in his peripheral, shouting something unintelligible to him. Buildings continued falling, bright lights kept bursting from ghosts, and some of the people running even stopped and ended up doing the same. With robotic movements, Morro lifted his left arm up and called for his fallen weapon with his wind. The weapon faltered in the air slightly, wobbling and very slowly making its way into his hand, unlike the usual quick return he would’ve gotten.
Convincing his legs to slowly start trudging towards the other survivors, a mantra of what’s happening what’s happening what’s happening filled his head. All the ghost could do was watch and attempt to run as more and more spirits began to abruptly stop and look at the sky with sudden calmness. At one point, Morro felt a jolt course through his body before a sense of peacefulness washed over him. The urge to relax all of his limbs and let go of all of the current stress was great as he tilted his head up towards the sky. It looked like there was a golden light calling to him. If he squinted, he could see bright green, living grass in the middle of it, as well as a few ghosts with smiling faces sitting down there. Huh, that would be kind of nice…it could be a break from all of the chaos happening around him. Maybe he could even-
A panicked shout drew Morro’s attention back to the present, as he shook off the strange feeling that had come over him. A cursed soul was trying to pull one of the departed out from underneath a long wooden beam, all while the building beside the two of them began to lean towards the ghosts. Morro grinded his teeth, stretching his hand out to push the wood away with his wind. Only a small breeze released. Come on, come on, those guys need help, Morro begged the wind mentally. Just one more time. Come on, just stick with me one more time.
With a large push, Morro sent a gust of wind out, tossing the beam and the two ghosts out of the way right before the building collapsed. He quickly ran around the wreckage to see if they were alright. The cursed was supporting the departed with one arm as the two stood up, the latter seeming very disoriented. The first ghost nodded at Morro, offering a quick thanks before beginning to head off in the direction everyone else ran in. Morro felt a worm of guilt inside of him for not knowing who that ghost was. He had probably recognized Morro as his previous general, after all. But here? Morro was reminded once more as the cursed carried the departed away that everybody here was just trying to make the best of the situation they were in.
Morro was crouched down on the ground, spinning his staff in his hands absentmindedly as he tried to call for his wind. There was nothing. No eager obedience, no taunting evasiveness. Morro could feel nothing. Long ago, this would’ve made the elemental master furious. He would’ve cursed the wind right out in the open where he could feel it whip past him like anybody else. Now, the ghost just felt…sad, to be honest. It was like a friend that had stuck with him his whole life. It had seen it all: his life on the streets, training to be a ninja, becoming a cursed warrior. But maybe that was the point. It wasn’t really fair to keep the wind locked up in death when elemental powers were supposed to be passed on to new people. Morro could only hope it was given to somebody who needed it, like he had.
But for now, the dead needed him. Out of the hundreds who had been in the departed realm, only a little under twenty had remained, in a place they had now grown accustomed to calling “The Spectral Lands”. The landscape was different; if you strayed too far from the main lands, you could find a physical change in the land. It looked like it abruptly shifted from the departed world into…well, into the living world. A few ghosts said they would venture out into the new lands to figure out what in the world was going on, saying they would come back when they had more information. They never did return…Morro had watched them step outside of the border, safe and sound as they traveled outward. Once the distant blurs of whoever had gone faded from Morro’s vision, sadness would tug at his heart for yet another ghost leaving him.
It wasn’t necessarily that Morro was in charge, per say. Moreso that most of the ghosts were terrified, departed souls who knew that Morro had leading experience and turned to him for guidance. Who was he to reject that? If he had been in their shoes, he would’ve done the same. So the few remaining survivors began to piece together little hovels to reside in for the time being. There was only one cursed soul left in the group, and it was someone Morro knew all too well. He was the one who had first brought the news of some sort of magical well to the ghost’s attention.
“It’s the exact same color that the ghosts burst into when it happened,” the Soul Archer explained as he entered through the temporary flap at the door. Morro brought his spinning staff to a halt as he narrowed his eyes.
“Show me.”
On top of the highest landmark in The Spectral Lands sat an old-timey well, just as the Soul Archer said there would be. Morro traced his fingers against the stone frame before glancing at his friend in confusion. “No one claims to have built this?”
“Correct,” the Soul Archer nodded dutifully. “And everyone should’ve reported anything they knew to you before they left The Spectral Lands, Morro.” Morro chuckled, looking down at the strange golden liquid that sat at the bottom of the well, only ten feet or so below them.
“Not everyone is a rule follower, Archer. You need to remember we’re the only cursed left.” With that, both ghosts went silent as Morro grimaced. He hadn’t meant to bring up bad memories. He knew it must’ve been even more difficult for the Soul Archer than himself; he had been closer to Bansha and Ghoultar after all. They had most likely combusted into light like every other cursed soul that was missing. Morro gripped the stones of the well as best he could as he looked to the Soul Archer, an apology on the tip of his tongue.
“Archer, I-”
“I have a theory,” the Soul Archer’s eyes gleamed from behind his mask, despite the fact that the Preeminent wasn’t around to tell him to keep it on. “What if it’s connected to what happened to the others? Someone could try drinking it to see what happens.”
“No, that’s not a good idea,” Morro pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “We have no idea what that stuff does, and as far as I’m aware, any liquid can kill ghosts. We can’t pass through constantly moving objects, remember?” The ghost glanced back down the well before resolving to pull a bucket of the strange liquid up to where both of them could reach it.
A low haunting howl rang throughout the air, causing Morro to tense up and look around. The Soul Archer withdrew his bow, surveying the area while straying away from the well. The former grabbed the handle of the bucket tightly, bringing it close to his waist.
“What was that?” The Soul Archer gave no reply, just kept scanning the area. Morro grimaced, forcing his shoulders to relax. He offered, “Okay, let’s just get back to the others and show them the-” A panicked shout echoed through the chilly air, followed by a few more animalistic howls. The Soul Archer shot a look back at Morro, hissing as he tilted his head,
“It came from that way.” The cursed warriors ran in the direction of the scream, abandoning the bucket as both readied their weapons. Morro faltered momentarily when he saw the cause of the sounds. An unfamiliar elderly couple were pushed to the ground by some sort of large, four-legged creatures. At the center of the creatures’ faces were star-like flaps that opened up to reveal layers of teeth. It felt eerily similar to the Preeminent. Three of these monstrosities surrounding those ghosts, one of them plunging its teeth into the woman’s skin and making a sucking motion with its mouth, completely unbothered by her screams as it did so. Shaking himself out of his stupor, Morro threw himself towards the creatures with his double edged staff, attempting to strike the side of their faces so as to get them to stop attempting to feed. The elderly man gaped as the Soul Archer released an arrow straight through one of the beasts necks. The creature howled before angrily huffing, turning its attention to the Soul Archer while pawing at the ground. The monster lunged at the ghost, knocking him down and proceeding to lock its teeth into the cursed warrior. Morro’s eyes widened as he watched his friend who had never batted an eye when being splashed by water cried out into the night sky. With a grunt, Morro stopped trying to hit one of the creatures, aiming to now attempt to get the monster off of the Soul Archer.
“You need to help her!” The elderly ghost begged Morro, grabbing his ankle and pointing towards the ghost’s wife. She was still being sucked of her energy, seemingly her life, as the ghost watched in dismay her frame become more and more wrinkled up.
“Just-I-” Morro glanced between the Soul Archer and the newly departed soul. Shaking his head, Morro continued towards his friend, angrily slamming his weapon across the creature’s back. It let out a guttural roar when one of the blades cut against the spikes etching out of its backside. With new resolve, the ghost swiped his blade again and again across the spikes before the monster let go of the Soul Archer, choosing to flee instead. With a relieved sigh, Morro helped his friend stand up. He immediately realized something was wrong by how easy it was to do so. He was way too light for that…The ghost wanted to ask the Soul Archer what happened when the baying of the monsters brought Morro back to the conflict.
“Hit the spikes on their backs,” he grunted before choosing to attack the creature which was harming the old man in Morro’s absence. The Soul Archer shot at the nodes on the monster’s back which was hurting the old woman, quickly getting it to turn around and flee. A gasp from the ghost caused Morro to look in the Soul Archer’s direction. In this moment of distraction, the creature in front of him pushed Morro to the ground and drove its teeth into his shoulder. The ghost let out a shocked cry as whatever sensation could be felt in his body was painfully drawn up towards the wound, as if it was being sucked up through some sort of vacuum. His limbs went numb as his skin felt like it was stretching across his face in ways it was never meant to do so.
Morro let out a sigh of relief when the drawing motion stopped abruptly, the creature practically howling in his ear before being driven off by the Soul Archer. He tilted his head to the side to search for the other two ghosts. The elderly man was on his knees sobbing into his hands, no sign of the woman anywhere. With guilt pooling into his stomach for letting that happened, Morro ignored the cursed ghost who was apparently shaking him, choosing to instead let darkness overtake his vision.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Those were the first words Morro heard when he regained consciousness. His entire body ached, random joints popping slightly as he attempted to push himself up. The ghost was dismayed by how tired and weak he felt, not even able to lift himself out of the blankets and pillow that had been provided for him. Turning all of his energy towards shifting his head instead, the ghost managed to turn his face away from the pillow and towards the blurred objects in the room. Morro squinted his eyes, trying to regain focus of who he knew were his fellow departed.
“Yes. I can’t live without her.” That voice…Morro didn’t recognize it immediately. Finally able to reach a hand up to his face, the ghost wiped at his eyes before focusing on who was speaking. It was the elderly ghost who had been saved (and who Morro still didn’t understand why he was here in the first place). “I’ll drink it. I don’t care about anything else anymore, so why not?” That was enough to finally allow Morro to push himself up in bed, looking with wide eyes at his ragtag group of departed souls. In the midst of them was that bucket from the well, still filled with the golden liquid.
“Don’t you dare!” Morro interjected, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and pushing himself up into a standing position, ignoring the light headed feeling he received from doing it so quickly. Everyone looked to him, before the Soul Archer pushed himself in front of the others.
“Morro-”
“Archer, he could die!”
“I’m already dead!” The old man shouted, getting Morro’s attention immediately. His focus from the man’s face trailed over to his left temple where a large amount of ghostly scarring was. So he didn’t die of natural causes? Realization dawned on Morro as his mouth opened slightly in shock, but he refrained from saying something he might regret. Instead, he allowed the Soul Archer to put a hand on the cursed’s shoulder and say.
“I think we need to figure out what this stuff is so why understand why The Spectral Lands exist. And now we have someone more than willing to take the risk.” Feeling the fight leave from him, Morro rubbed his face to try to get rid of the phantom pains that stress had been giving him. With furrowed brows, the ghost paused when he brushed against his cheeks, feeling their gaunt structure with confoundment. The cursed general beside him grabbed Morro’s hands and drew them away from his face, pulling his attention back to the situation. “So? Are we gonna try it?”
With a sigh, Morro nodded his head, feeling his back slump as a bottle was used to carefully draw some of the liquid from its container. The vessel was passed to the martyr, who gave nobody the time to anticipate the effects of the liquid, immediately downing the drink. Morro watched in wonder when the ghost didn’t poof. Instead, he wiped the residue from his lips and glanced at the others, giving a half hearted shrug. The bottle dropped from his hands as he tilted his head upwards, eyes glazing over as a look of calmness spread across his face. Golden rays erupted from his chest before overtaking his entire frame and consuming the ghost. Within twenty seconds, the man was gone.
Morro sharply inhaled, eyes shifting to the other ghosts to see what they thought. Of course, the Soul Archer was first to speak, “I think they moved on. Like the others.”
“How do we know for sure?” Someone else retorted, glaring at him. The Soul Archer glared right back, crossing his arms.
“Don’t you find it odd that every other liquid makes us disappear in an instant, but this one has other results? That don’t just happen within a second?”
“Alright listen!” Morro interrupted, standing in between the two ghosts. “Anyone who wants to try drinking to see if they can go to-to whatever comes after this, go right ahead. But we aren’t going to force anybody to.” Murmurs of discontent and agreement collided as the cursed general sighed, grabbing the handle of the bucket and lifting it in the air.
“So…who’s next?”
“They all smiled after drinking it,” Morro shrugged, leaning against the stone walls of the well and motioning to the liquid below with a wave of his hand. The Soul Archer did not seem so amused by this. “I mean, you said it yourself that they could be passing o-”
“I don’t want to.” The words caused Morro’s thoughts to short circuit for a second before he put on his half smirk with raised eyebrows and chuckled,
“Aaaand, why is that?” The Soul Archer looked out into The Spectral Lands below them, bow tightly gripped in his hands. It was eerily quiet. Not even the soul suckers seemed interested in hunting tonight. Maybe they thought all the ghosts were gone? After all, it was only the two cursed generals left, whether that be because the others drank the liquid gold or the soul suckers got them.
“I’m not leaving you,” the Soul Archer locked his steely eyes with Morro, already seeming to build walls that the latter would need to break down in order to drink the liquid.
“Archer…”
“And besides, I don’t deserve it.” The ghost looked back out to the Spectral Lands while Morro’s jaw clenched. He moved in front of the Soul Archer to try to make sure he knew how serious Morro was about this.
“Listen, not many of the cursed souls did. We were cursed for a reason…but after everything the Preeminent did to us, I think we deserve some sort of consolation for what we went through.”
“I don’t regret it,” the cursed general snapped, tossing his bow to the ground. Once again, Morro didn’t know quite what to say as his fellow cursed glared at him. “I know what I did was wrong, but I would do it again and again. If she was still around, I would go back with her. That is why I don’t deserve it.”
The bucket hung above the well creaked slightly in the wind as Morro tried to gain confidence through use of feeling his old element pass by him. The ghost withdrew two bottles from his belt, extending one out to the Soul Archer expectantly. Both held the liquid from the well. “Would you do it if both of us went?”
The cursed soul in front of him pinched his brows, obviously weighing his options. With a sigh, he withdrew his face covering, revealing a ginger haired man that Morro had never seen before. Nice to finally meet you, Morro thought to himself, smiling as the Soul Archer took one of the bottles.
“Fine…I follow your orders. If that means we go together then so be it.” The two clinked there bottles together before they swigged the drinks down their throats. Or at least, that was what seemed to happen. Morro’s smirk faded into that of a sad smile as he watched the Soul Archer set the bottle down. The cursed soul looked even more confused before looking at Morro’s bottle and going completely still. The cap was still clasped tight on, despite what Morro had mimicked as taking it off. The Soul Archer hadn’t even thought to check, fully believing what his previous general said as to be the truth. Morro sighed, watching his friend’s eyes harden at the realization of the “betrayal”.
“Why did you do that? Why won’t you pass on too?” Morro gave no reply, simply watching the Soul Archer go through the motions he had seen many other ghosts experience. The loosening of tension in the limbs, the dazed look and the golden beams. The only difference was that his friend had not smiled, despite the peace given to him in his final moments in the Spectral Lands.
Morro reached down and picked up the Soul Archer’s bow, carefully slinging it around his shoulder and letting out a shaky exhale. Tremors shook through his hands, finally free to visibly do so after acting for so long in front of the other ghost. The empty bottle that the ghost picked up almost immediately slipped through his hands.
“You want to know why I won’t move on?” Morro’s voice shook in the lifeless air surrounding him. He withdrew his staff, switching out its blades as the soul suckers’ cries finally entered the night once more. “People will need my help to survive and I’m going to make sure that they pass on, no matter how difficult it is to get them to this well.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Lloyd Garmadon is the newest, youngest, and most annoying addition to the ninja team. So, his brothers decide to do a little bit of harmless hazing. How were they supposed to know that the graveyard they sent him into was haunted?
OR
Lloyd makes a friend, the ninja give Wu a heart attack, and Morro is a bargaining pawn.
Lloyd Garmadon was both the youngest and newest ninja assigned to the ninja force. According to Uncle Wu, usually the ninja were only supposed to be at least twelve before beginning their training, and fifteen before being let out to fight actual bad guys. Lloyd had been an exception, due to his father being unable to take care of him (for grown up reasons that Wu never explained no matter how many times the child asked), as well as the descendent of an elemental master. There was also a secret third reason that nobody acknowledged, but was still true, that being Lloyd begging non-stop to train with his older “siblings”. It wasn’t fair that the five others got to do all this cool fighting stuff, especially with their cool powers that they were still trying to keep under control. Why couldn’t Lloyd unlock his own elemental power? He had to, right?
Maybe it was the amount of pranks he pulled on his new family or the fact that the other ninja had to begrudgingly babysit him, but for the first time since the ninja force was created, Lloyd was going to have to go under an initiation. The seven year old would have to prove he was as brave as his older brothers by venturing out into the creepy woods late at night and stay there for a whole ten minutes. Spooky. And not only that, but the ninja-in-training learned once he had been placed in front of its gates that it wasn’t just any woods, but the woods inside the cemetery a whole six blocks away from the monastery! Strangely, Sensei Wu, nor Lloyd’s older sister, Nya, had accompanied the five boys there.
But that was fine! Lloyd wasn’t a baby anymore, he could prove to be the bravest ninja there ever was! How long was ten minutes anyway? A bitter memory of being told to sit in a corner and not do anything for ten minutes as a punishment popped into Lloyd’s head. That had been no fun, especially when his mom had snapped at him for even shifting how he sat on the uncusioned wooden chair. Well…okay, so those ten minutes had been terrible, but these ones didn’t have to be! In fact, Lloyd decided that he had walked already for about three whole minutes deeper into the graveyard, so far that he couldn’t even see the other boys. Ha! That would show them. He’s so brave, and when he proves that, maybe they’ll stop glaring at him for each prank and maybe start calling him brother instead of groaning each time he did so to them.
Soon, the boy began to feel a chill creep up his back and through his arms. Ugh, stupid night time and no warm sun…well, at least he had his favorite black and purple hoodie on to trap some of the warmth left surrounding him. As Lloyd grew tired of walking and decided to plop down on the ground, the spiny trees surrounding him became his new object of attention as he realized how they almost seemed to hang downwards towards him, like they wanted to grasp the boy in their limbs. With a gulp, Lloyd decidedly attempted to no longer look up at the sky.
“Heh, it’s kinda spooky in here…” he mumbled to himself, his eyes following the outline of bumpy terrain in front of him. In order to not scare himself even more by admitting that fact, he quickly added, “But that’s okay! Because I like spooky. Heheh, yeah.” A scattering movement from beside one of the eerie tombstones in the yard caused Lloyd to accidentally let out a totally brave yelp. He quickly recovered when he saw two small, beady eyes shine at him for a moment before disappearing underground. It was a rat. Right, those existed…well, as long as they didn’t try to bite him, Lloyd could be cool with rats.
“Yeah…yeah! I’ll tell the others that I found a mean old rat and I wasn’t even scared. Haha! That should-ACK!!”
The kid felt his back hit the ground hard before his head followed afterwards, bouncing slightly back up after it did so. Tears naturally blurred Lloyd’s eyes as he felt two hands pin his arms to either side of his chest, with his attacker’s fingernails pressing deeper and deeper into his wrists. And with that, all of his previous bravery vanished in an instant.
Sensei Wu had sensed something was amiss when the monastery lacked any sort of echo involving arguing or victorious cries. His fears were only confirmed when Nya had knocked on Wu’s door asking if he had seen her twin brother. Luckily, the five missing children hadn’t disappeared completely without a trace. Ever so helpful Zane had left a note behind saying that he and the others were going out for supper and then doing a quick stop at the cemetery to pay respect for Kai’s dead parents. Wu was assured that the part about the parents was a lie when Nya wrinkled her nose upon reading the letter, blatantly telling her teacher that she and Kai were in foster care for as long as she could remember.
Sensei Wu asked her to stay behind as he went looking for the others. He had been met with reluctant obedience, since it was already way past nine o’clock. Wu’s fears grew the closer he got to his destination, the thud of his staff against the ground only occurring faster and faster. Rumors had been whispered about some sort of child of the shadows who led people away to this very place. The Blight. A terrible name derived from how awful the place was no matter the weather anywhere else in town. The secondary factor to its naming was how only criminals had been buried there. Even in death, equality was nonexistent. Images of his children being swept away by some malicious force passed through the sensei’s mind, causing him to go even faster on his feet. After all, he had a pretty good guess of what horrors may be hidden within the graveyard.
Temporary relief slowed his heart’s rapid beating when he found his boys outside the gates looking in. They hadn’t decided to go in yet! Cole was lifting Jay up on his shoulders to try to give the latter a better view into the cemetery as Kai had already began attempting to climb the chain fence. Zane was the first to see their sensei, quick to call out “Sensei Wu!” This caused the others to notice and repeat in unison “SENSEI WU!” as their teacher came up to them. Kai fell off the chain fence and attempted to land correctly last minute, saving him from bigger injuries but still causing the ninja-in-training to stumble to his knees. Jay pushed himself off of Cole, running to his sensei and grabbing at his robe’s sleeve.
“Sensei, it’s been ten minutes, but Lloyd still hasn’t come out yet!” The boy’s words clumped together as he quickly spoke, no doubt driven by his fear.
“Jaaaay!” Cole punched his friend’s arm before looking at Wu in apprehension. The ninja teacher’s eyes widened as he glanced at the graveyard, trying to see if he could spot a mop of blonde hair somewhere. His gaze returned to his remaining pupils as his voice took on a harder, sterner tone,
“What do you mean Lloyd’s gone in there? You four are not ready to face what’s inside just yet!”
“What’s inside?” Cole echoed, eyes growing bigger. The four ninja looked at each other, their gazes shiny with fear, before all of them began to spew out excuses.
“We didn’t know it was dangerous!”
“We just wanted to scare him a little-“
“He was being so annoying lately, but-“
“I researched the native life in the surrounding area, I didn’t see any sort of violent animals-“
“I thought he’d be back by now-“
“Enough! You are all to blame for what happened tonight,” Sensei Wu’s voice boomed over the rapid chorus, causing all four kids to shut their mouths. Kai looked at the ground guiltily before meeting his teacher’s harsh gaze.
“Sensei…it was our fault. But I never wanted anything to happen to the little pipsqueak. I promise! Is…is Lloyd going to be okay?” Wu finally softened his gaze as all four of his students’ unintentionally looked at him the puppy dog eyes. At least they seemed regretful…
“I’m going in there to find your brother.” Pausing, as if to prove his point further, their teacher emphasized, “Alone.” Immediately, he was drowning in more rapid protests, all of which involved voices begging to help their teacher find his lost pupil. One slam of his wooden staff against the pavement caused the children to shut up once more. “You four will stay outside, until I return with Lloyd, and are not to follow me inside. Do you understand?”
“Yes sensei,” Cole bowed, with the other three chanting the same as they followed his example. With that fragile assurance, Wu’s brow furrowed in worry before he headed through the creaky gate’s door, the broken lock hanging off of it lightly swaying as he did so.
“Get off of me!” the boy with blonde hair shouted beneath Morro before biting one of the latter’s arms. Morro cried out in pain, letting go of the kid and throwing himself backwards onto his bottom, cradling his bitten arm as he clenched his teeth. He sent a glare at the intruder before barking out,
“You bit me, you jerk!”
“You shoved me!” the boy retorted, sitting up with tears falling freely down his face as he returned the glare. Despite the pain blooming from the teeth-shaped bruise on his arm, Morro refused to do the same by crying in front of the kid. Tears showed weakness and Morro wasn’t weak! To prove his point, he stood up, taking a deep breath and holding it as he attempted to throw his wind towards the boy, extending his arms out as he did so. A small breeze pushed some of the intruder’s hair to the side, but by no means knocked him over.
The kid in front of him sniffled, eyebrows still downturned, but his voice lacked malice as he quietly asked, “Are you an elemental master?”
“No,” Morro scoffed, letting out a sharp exhale as he did so, the rest of his wind releasing a bit stronger. He didn’t know what an elemental master was. “I got my powers from my mother.”
“I got-I’m getting mine from my dad,” the boy announced, wiping the last of his tears away. He wobbled a bit as he stood up, but Morro refused to be fooled by any sign of frailness. He balled his fists and shifted his stance, growling, “Get out of my home! You’re not supposed to be here!”
“You don’t live here,” the boy wrinkled his nose, looking Morro up and down suspiciously. “No one lives here.”
“Get out or I’ll use my wind on you!” the older boy threatened. He puffed his cheeks angrily as he raised his hand in the air, calling a small breeze to blow around the two of them. The younger didn’t look very scared as he looked Morro in the eyes. Instead of running away, he just said,
“Stop holding your breath.”
“Huh?” Morro dropped his hand, his wind releasing once more and whipping both boys’ hair around. The scowl on his face was accidentally put away and replaced with a confused look. Why was this kid trying to give him advice?
“My uncle says that power flows in you, right?” The boy walked up to him, causing Morro to tighten his fists even more as his shoulders tensed. He didn’t really know what to do when confronted with someone trying to approach him instead of the other way around. Luckily, the blonde didn’t touch him, instead just pointed towards his chest. “It’s gotta flow out too. And yours does, but you don’t let it out right. Do it when you breathe out.” The boy inhaled dramatically before breathing out with his arms stretched out, almost brushing against Morro’s pale green gi given to him by the Soul Archer on behalf of the Preeminent. The younger boy smiled at him, adding “My uncle is teaching my five siblings and me, and they all got powers too. He knows a whole bunch of stuff.”
Hesitantly, especially since a stranger was watching him, Morro shifted slightly to the side. He took in a deep breath and waited to ask the wind to move until he was exhaling again. This time, three nearby trees’ branches bounced wildly in the air, which had never happened when Morro tried to practice by himself. He glanced at the boy next to him with suspicion, refraining from reveling in the pride in his chest as he carefully analyzed the grinning kid and his dumb, oversized sweatshirt.
“Who are you,” he demanded the stranger.
“I’m Lloyd! What’s your name? Why’re you here too?” The blonde asked with a smile, seeming to have put their original meeting behind them, much to Morro’s growing confusion and distrust.
“I’m Morro, and I already told you, I live here.” He crossed his arms, remembering to narrow his eyes and look angry, even if he didn’t actually feel so mad anymore.
“Well, I’m s’pposed to be here for ten minutes to prove I’m the greatest, bravest ninja ever!”
“You don’t look like a ninja…” Morro mumbled, his arms dropping to his sides. Lloyd paused, a defense seeming to be on his tongue before he dropped it, instead saying,
“Wanna play a game? I still got like two more minutes I think.”
“Game?” Morro echoed, before looking to the side with furrowed brows. He tried to recall any “games” he knew before living in The Blight. Most of his memories from two years ago had began slipping away and being replaced with more happy ones with his family of ghosts. Yet, he couldn’t really recall playing any games with the others. It was more like training and learning. Yeah, training and learning. He knew that. But were those games? Seeming bored of the silence that had grown between the two boys, Lloyd shoved Morro’s shoulder before speeding off and crouching behind one of the gravestones, yelling “Tag! You’re it!”
Morro glared at the other boy, rubbing his shoulder and staring intensely at him. Lloyd’s smile wavered as he stood up a little. Shaking his head as if to shake away the frown growing on his face, the boy smiled again and explained in an unpatronizing tone, “Now you have to tag me. That’s the game’s name. Tag. So come here.” Lloyd waved the older boy towards him. Morro hesitated, taking a step forward and pausing, slightly fearing to do something wrong in this “game”. When the other boy didn’t yell at him for messing up, he jogged over to him, taking a guess and lightly tapping Lloyd’s shoulder. The latter’s smile grew bigger, if that was even possible, as he explained,
“Now you gotta run and I try to tag you, got it?” A nod. “Okay, three two one, go!” Despite saying “go”, Morro did catch that the blonde hadn’t began chasing until he had changed his jog into a sprint. All attempts at looking mean disappeared from his face, replacing with a smile soon after. Who knew games were fun? Maybe Wrayth would play tag with him later! The two boys chased each other back and forth for a while, only pausing once as Lloyd explained the concept of a time-out to Morro, making both of them stop for a bit so he could stop panting and take off his sweatshirt for now. Underneath was a picture of what Lloyd explained was a dinosaur. Morro didn’t get it, but that was okay because they started to play tag again soon afterwards.
“How do-how do you not breathe so much?” Lloyd panted, hands on his knees as Morro sat down and used a nearby tombstone as a backrest. The latter shrugged, about to say “I don’t know” before thinking a bit and replying, “Training. I like training. I guess I breathe a lot then.” He hoped that answer made sense. It seemed to, since the younger boy nodded his head before rocking backwards and tumbling onto his bottom. He extended his hand out towards Morro and said out of the blue, “Let’s be friends.”
The simple statement threw him for a loop as he replied without a second thought, “Why?” Lloyd looked a little bit confused, if not hurt, by the question. But it made total sense to Morro. He never had a friend before, not out on the streets. Instead, kids who were “friends” ganged up together on Morro. He never had anybody to stick by his side other than his family, and family can’t be friends. However, guilt tickled his throat when he heard Lloyd ask right back, “Why not?” So he nodded at the younger boy and shook his hand, cheering the blonde up once more.
Not a moment later, Lloyd snatched a nearby fallen branch and tried to introduce another game to Morro, calling it “tic-tac-toe” as he drew two horizontal lines with two vertical lines crossing over them. He then tossed the stick aside, tracing his finger in the dirt while making x’s and circle’s inside the newly formed boxes. The blonde had claimed that every kid knew how to play this game, resulting in Morro quickly saying, “I don’t remember that.” And that had been the truth. Thankfully, Lloyd had replied with “Well, I do! Here, let me show you.” This game, like tag, was also a little strange to Morro at first glance, but he began to catch on quicker when he realized that this game could actually be won, unlike tag. And Morro liked winning. The two played a few rounds before Lloyd looked up abruptly, letting out a small gasp as his eyes widened. Morro stood up, preparing himself for whatever unknown danger the blonde must’ve perceived. He instead was met with Lloyd slowly rising to his feet, looking to the side guiltily.
“It’s been way longer than ten minutes. I think I have to go home to my family now.” Morro’s tension released as he dropped his shoulders, both in relief for no danger and in disappointment that his friend wanted to leave. Wait! Maybe they could do one more thing together.
“Do you want to meet my family? They should wake up soon,” Morro offered. Lloyd brightened, nodding his head.
“Okay!” Morro grinned, excited to hang out with his friend for a bit longer. He spotted a glimmer of green appear behind Lloyd and was about to announce that it must’ve been his family when he was grabbed roughly from behind, causing the boy to clam his eyelids shut. Something pressed against his throat hard, making it difficult to squirm out of the bigger attacker’s reach from behind him. Morro chose then to shift his efforts towards moving the object away from him, curling his fingers around what felt like wood and tugging at it to no avail. When he blinked open his eyes, he found a familiar ghost holding Lloyd back, a two edged dagger drawing a dot of blood from the terrified boy’s throat.
“Bansha!” Morro managed to cry out before the wood was pressed even firmer against his throat. He gasped, clawing at it more frantically for easier breaths of air. He didn’t want Lloyd to join his family, he wanted him to be his friend! Sadly, Morro was unable to convey as much, no longer able to force words out. He shifted his head, trying to look up at his assailant. All he could see was a straw hat, but at least he could breathe now.
“Let my nephew go at once!” The man behind Morro demanded. Nephew? This was Lloyd’s uncle? Morro already didn’t like the guy, who continued on, “My family has no quarrel with yours yet.” The boy felt a heavy pit grow in his stomach as dread filled his throat. Yet. The word hung in the air menacingly as Bansha glanced down at Morro and then up back at his attacker.
“We both know that’s not true, old man,” The ghost hissed behind her gaiter. Morro watched in fear as she drew a line against Lloyd’s skin with her knife, causing the other boy to whimper as tears freely rolled down his face past his trembling lips. “It would be a shame if something happened to one so young…” The wood at Morro’s throat pressed just a smidge further, causing the boy to take in a deep gasp for air before the object against his throat was released by a minuscule amount.
“If you kill my student, then yours will be gone as well,” the man threatened. The ghost chuckled, releasing her dagger from Lloyd’s throat but replacing it with a tight hold using her arm. Bansha retorted,
“What’s another ghost among the dead?” For a second, she glanced at Morro, meeting the boy’s scared gaze. In that quick moment, a small wisp of relief tickled the boy when he could see the worry in her eyes. Bansha was bluffing. The ghost paused, sighing for dramatic effect before offering in her echoey voice, “But, I supposed a trade could be met…I want mine back first.”
“So you could take both children for yourself?!” Morro winced, wishing he could cover his ears to block out the man’s raising voice. His heart drummed quicker as he wondered if his ghostly sister would be victorious. Distantly, Morro realized that the man’s heartbeat was also thudding rather quickly, rumbling against the boy’s back.
“And how do I know that you’re a man of honor?” The ghost spat, once more silently threatening as she raised her dagger back to Lloyd’s throat. The child in her grasp let out a silent, muffled sob.
There was a silence in the air as both sides wondered who would break first. Nobody dared to move and no other words were spoken. Seconds felt like hours in Morro’s head. Until finally…
Morro was thrown to his knees, the wood from his throat finally releasing him as the boy threw his palms out in front of him before hitting the ground. Pebbles dashed against his skin, a distant stinging already forming. But Morro didn’t think too much about it, because only a second later, he was being lifted into the arms of Bansha, slightly in an embrace but more so to make sure that the intruder wouldn’t grab Morro again. The boy stayed in her arms, but twisted his neck back to watch as Lloyd ran into his uncle’s arms. The blonde was full on bawling now, but not once did the thought occur to Morro that he was being weak. In fact, he could feel tears brimming his own eyes, yet he stubbornly refused to let them fall. Not because he might be interpreted as weak, but because he would never wish to harm his older sister.
Bansha did not let Morro leave her grasp until they both could no longer see the sensei and his pupil. Dropping the mask of confidence, the ghost in front of him ripped off her shawl and gaiter to meet her brother face to face. Bansha’s braid fell over her shoulder as she leaned down closer to Morro, properly hugging him now that there was no danger. Morro let his tears fall with no sound the second that she let go of him. The boy trembled, grabbing his own arms and trying to stop their shaking. Future warriors don’t get scared…no, he was wrong. He knew he was when he saw the look Bansha gave him. He couldn’t keep to her gaze, choosing to look to the side. Morro spotted Lloyd’s forgotten hoodie lying on the ground. Would he ever be able to return it to his friend?
“Let me tell Mother what happened, okay? It’s better if she hears it from me.” Morro didn’t look at the ghost until she grabbed his chin and tilted his face towards her face. His eyes met hers. Fear looked back at determination. “You don’t talk about this to the others, alright? No telling Mother. If Ghoultar asks you what happened, you tell him to talk to me, okay? I want you to forget ever meeting that boy. Do you understand?”
Morro nodded, pulling himself out of Bansha’s grasp and wiping his tears against his gi’s sleeves. He felt one of her arms wrap around him and gently guide him deeper into The Blight. He didn’t want to forget his friend, despite his love for his family. Deciding to keep his lips sealed about the incident, he told himself he’d just have to not forget this memory, no matter how scary it was. Remember his friend’s name. Morro would grab that abandoned sweatshirt later when the ghosts had to go to sleep underground again. When the boy began his training in the night, and when Wrayth would go on and on about his “glory days” of being a thief when he was alive, one word repeated as a mantra inside Morro’s brain. Lloyd.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter Two/Epilogue is finished!
(Fic below cut)
L laid flat on his stomach in bed with his covers over his head. His stomach hadn’t stopped twisting into ugly shapes for the past hour. He couldn’t focus on casework, not like this. Not when all but one of his successors were buried six feet below. The thought of B caused the detective to grab his bedsheets in his fists, making them to stretch and slide slightly off of the top corners of his bed. B. Why did it have to be B? Couldn’t it have been Mello? Near? Man, even Atlas might’ve been better since, unlike Beyond, she straight up ignored the detective if they ever happened to cross paths. But no, it had been B. The one who had practically been his brother before L burrowed himself under numerous cold cases that only he should bear the weight of solving at such a young age. They were grown now; at sixteen, L had been noticed by the Prime Minister, his first tie to any form of government. And Beyond, just as old as he was, became a murderer.
He knew B had been ticked off at him, but he hadn’t considered the possibility of such retaliation. Hadn’t he been protective over Mello, at least from what L had seen after his “classes” involving his younger two successors? No matter how far L pushed his face into his pillow, trying to block any light from seeping into his eyes, the image of a disturbed Beyond holding a small boy beside the body of his closest friend wouldn’t leave his mind. L should’ve never allowed A and B to take care of Mello and Near. Why hadn’t he sucked it up when they fought and just kept addressing the problem head on like any other puzzle he solved for the police?
A gentle knock against his bedroom door caused L to curl up into himself under the increasingly warm heat of the blanket, his knees digging into his rib cage, somehow how both feeling physically uncomfortable, yet emotionally releasing. A creaky wheel notified the detective that a cart had been wheeled in, most definitely holding sweets on top of it. For once, there was no ceaseless hunger clawing at his stomach. He stayed underneath the blankets childishly, even when he heard Watari address him.
“L? I brought you some food. Would you please sit up and take some? You haven’t eaten today and it’s already evening.”
“Mello’s dead…” L’s mutter vibrated against his bedding, just hardly audible for his caretaker. “It’s been approximately nine hours and twenty-three minutes since then.”
“Do you think he’d want you to stop eating just because he has?” The statement made irritation seep into L’s already heavy eyelids, as he finally flipped the blanket partially out from over his head. It landed slightly on his neck, but he made no move to adjust it any further. He didn’t bother to crane his neck as his dull eyes blinked up at his caretaker’s impassive face. Is Mr. Wammy simply unbothered by such casualties or is he putting on a brave face in front of his greatest invention? The detective wouldn’t dare voice such a thought out loud. Despite there being a fifty-fifty chance between those two options, Quillsh Wammy was not as uncaring as he may pretend to be. He never called L “son”, nor did he ask to be addressed as “father” when the child had come under his care. But L wasn’t blind to the favoritism. He didn’t see other children offered sweets at a moments notice, nor inventions created for their own convenience. He didn’t see Watari fight the urge to hug other children and settle with a hand on their shoulder as praise for whatever hard work they had done. He didn’t see Watari’s smile grow so warm towards anybody else, nor the corners of his eyes wrinkle so much with each grin. So why was it so difficult to convey (or at least, pretend to convey) any sort of sadness over three children dying while in front of L?
“I believe my symptoms are quite common for people experiencing the grieving period after a loved one’s death,” L retorted. His eyes trailed over to the blank wall his bed’s headboard rested against. He could feel a dip in the mattress as warmth seeped into his side. He made a feeble attempt to give Watari more room to sit on the single bed. A hand rested on his head, slightly scratching his nape. L’s throat welled up with guilt when the sensation let the muscles in his shoulders relax. He hadn’t been touched in a while, and now didn’t feel like a time that he deserved it.
“I understand your symptoms,” Watari’s voice rumbled above him, “but you still need to take care of your bodily functions. I don’t remember you drinking any water today, and I believe you must be dehydrated after the events of this morning.” Well, that was one way to put it. L uncurled one of his arms from underneath his chest in order to reach his lips and start peeling off their ever scabbing outer layer. He didn’t know how to stop; it wasn’t like he had been biting them. And there was always a small release of relief whenever a tiny spot of pain pricked his lips with each stubborn pull. He attempted to roll onto his back, choosing not to address the growing discontent on Watari’s face when he watched what L was doing to himself.
“I simply have no desire to do so at the moment. I will take care of such things later when they become necessities, but for now, there are much more pressing matters at hand.” The detective could see the parental scolding work its way into the muscles of Watari’s face before he even spoke a word.
“Now is not the time for police work. You need to take a break for-“
“I was referring to the successor program.” The words died on Watari’s tongue as L locked eyes with him. He set his jaw in place, trying to convey a serious, immovable determination despite the fact that the boy still hadn’t sat up in bed. Come to think of it, that’s what most people did when they wanted to be taken seriously, correct? He decided to do so, albeit sort of slowly and about ten seconds after he had already decided to make his eyes seem cold and steely. No words were exchanged for almost an entire minute, but L didn’t mind. If it took that long for Wammy to sort the thoughts through his head, weighing the pros and cons before finally agreeing with L, then that’s what would have to be done. To his delight, the old man eventually nodded his jittery head. He seemed to have formed an idea since his eyes lightened up slightly as he grabbed a small saucer holding anpan and handing it to L.
“If you promise to eat at least this, I’ll go talk to the rest of the administration about the program’s dismantlement right now.” Finding the deal satisfactory, the detective nodded his head and accepted the plate. A smile slid onto Watari’s face as he looked at L with that same warm gaze only ever directed at him. He patted the boy’s shoulder twice before heaving himself off of the bed, wheeling the squeaking cart away with him as he left L by himself. L looked down at the roll, his tongue feeling as if it retracted further into his throat when he processed the idea of actually consuming the food. But a deal was a
deal. With a grimace, he braced himself before sinking his teeth into the warm bread as the sweet filling he usually enjoyed oozed into his mouth.
That was years ago…L shouldn’t have trusted so blindly in empty promises. But they had sounded so good when wrapped in ribbon by the person he loved and trusted the most. That’s why it stung to find out that the only way the successor program would be allowed to be taken apart was if Beyond was kept alive. The reasoning being that L “still needed a successor”. It hurt. If that was what needed to be done to prevent the deaths of other children, then so be it. But the detective couldn’t fathom why Watari thought it was a good idea to just have B locked away only to be ripped out into the open when the time was ready. Who’s to say he wasn’t still brimming with hate and revenge? L didn’t know all of the details of where Beyond had been taken, but from what he had heard, it didn’t sound like an ordinary prison.
L, despite reluctantly accepting the deal, still wished that Beyond had been executed. He killed a child. Took part in three deaths. This was the sort of thing that L was supposed to be judging when he solved murder cases. But suddenly, when it would affect the great plans Watari had for the detective, L’s say no longer mattered. This one refusal made L realize that he perhaps did have a bit of a rebellious nature tucked away inside of him. He had begun searching for a way to get what he wanted. On the surface, he did what he was told, kept solving cases, let his fame grow and grow. But the idea of B’s death never truly left his mind.
Finally, he had found the perfect excuse. It took a bit of convincing (maybe a little bit of lying) to get Watari to spill Beyond’s location. He told the old man again and again that he needed his successor. It had been a difficult case that he was working on, and surely it could be solved when two geniuses sat down together and worked it out. For a short period of time, Watari refused, but more and more deaths related to the case kept popping up, leading him to finally cave in.
The place B was kept in looked like any other office building from the outside. Even upon entrance, L spotted cubicles with computers and a normal looking front desk assistant. But after the lady at the front heard who he was, she led him down three flights of stairs, to a dimly lit corridor lined with solid metal doors. A morbid curiosity made L ponder just how many of them actually contained people and for what cause. He was directed to door fourteen (just one digit off the number Beyond loved for some odd reason) and told to knock a certain pattern for when he wanted to leave the room.
L’s determined thoughts were put on hold briefly as he glanced down at the attendant in confusion.
“Can’t I just call for you? Surely someone could hear me past the door.” The lady’s lips pursed as she sighed and looked away.
“Just follow the procedure, sir,” she said before leaving him, her footsteps echoing as L waited to be let in. He put his hand on the doorknob, listening for the beep that would tell him when the door was unlocked. Upon hearing the buzz, he twisted the handle and pulled open the heavy door. He was just barely able to slide inside before the door swung back closed. The first thing L noticed was that there was no handle on the other side. The second thing that caught his attention was how much brighter this room had been lit in comparison to the hall. And lastly, the detective’s eyes landed on the body of a man who was curled up on the floor, his back facing L.
L’s teeth clenched when B slowly twisted his spine to look at him. Without cosmetics, this B looked hardly like the one L had grown up with. The only thing that remained unchanged were those dark eyes which dissected every movement, every twitch of a muscle that L made. A smile, no, more like a smirk, etched itself onto Beyond’s face as he slowly pushed himself up onto his knees, his elbows still resting at ninety degrees against the hard floor. L already felt the coldness from below seeping into his feet, so he could hardly understand what possessed the other man to stick close to the ground.
“You’re real,” Beyond’s voice cracked with disuse, the words acting as if they were an arrow striking through L’s chest, despite their lack of true malice. A laugh began bubbling its way up his successor’s scratchy throat, his overgrown hair falling slightly over his face as he did so. It had reached about an inch past his shoulders at this point.
L clicked his tongue, forcing one foot in front of the other as he got closer to the prisoner. Tossing his hands into his pockets, he looked down at B and asked in a smooth, unbothered tone,
“Have you been hallucinating me?”
“Well, not just you, Lawly. You’re not special.” B’s grin grew wider, resembling an ape baring his teeth before being provoked to strike. He rolled onto his back, disregarding any sense of professionalism in front of the detective. Although, it already seemed hard enough for this meeting to be professional, seeing as there was no furniture inside the cell to sit on, no table to separate the mad men. Beyond raised his hand upwards, motioning above L’s head with a flick of his wrist. “But your numbers are a more vibrant red this time. So you must be real, hm? Unless my mind is playing tricks on me due to the lack of color in here. Would you let me touch you? Just to see?”
The detective bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head “no” even before the word could leave his mouth. This didn’t dissuade Beyond; no, it seemed to just fuel his resolve as he shot his already outreached hand up towards L’s shirt. The latter was fast enough to smack the hand away and retreat backwards a few steps, no longer hiding his glare. His successor didn’t even seem upset by this. B simply whispered, “I knew it,” while holding his smacked hand close to his own chest.
With a heavy sigh, L crouched down so that he was closer in height to Beyond, all while keeping himself rocking on his heels, ready to bounce back upwards if necessary.
“I need a favor from you, B.”
“A favor?” B’s eyes twinkled as he rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one of his hands while smirking at the detective. “We both know how well that went the last time you asked me for a favor.”
“Then call it a demand,” L snapped, before reaching behind himself without turning around and knocking on the door twice. A heavy folder fell through the flap, which the detective took while keeping his eyes trained on his successor the entire time. He knew Beyond wasn’t sorry for Mello’s death, but that didn’t stop L from getting riled up when being reminded of it.
The detective roughly carded through the contents of the folder while B stared at him lazily, the former peeling out a few laminated police reports and tossing them to the floor unceremoniously. When a stack of about twenty papers had piled up, L shut the folder and tossed it to the side, his eyes narrowing at the indifferent man in front of him.
“Watari says you were able to look at a few of these cases before I got ahold of them.”
“Hmm.”
“Would you like to humor me with the connection between all of these?”
“Rather than you stole them from me before I was done?” Beyond jested. He raised himself up into a cross legged position, shifting his voice to take on the same octave and diction as L’s. “They all died of heart attacks.”
“Yes…and quit that,” L didn’t bother to verbally question just how Beyond had been capable of mimicking him. Now, he was slightly grateful that the cue to leave was a series of knocks, not a request by his voice. Choosing not to humor B, L continued, “There have been much more than these popping up recently. All done to people with criminal or shady backgrounds. I believe there’s someone behind this, causing it to happen through unnatural means, although I’m unsure just how unnatural…”
“So that’s why you’re visiting me,” Beyond chuckled, resting his elbows against his knees and clasping his face in his hands. “You finally believe me about my eyes! You know, you’re the first visitor that I’ve-“
“I don’t believe your fabricated tale about your eyes,” L shut down and squished the idea before letting it get even deeper into B’s head. “However, I would like help solving this case. B is for backup, and I’ve decided to resort to my backup plan: allowing you to work beside me for now.”
Now it was Beyond’s turn to narrow his eyes, his smile starting to morph into a scowl. He looked L up and down, as if any sort of body language might reveal what the detective’s true intentions were.
“Backup? Seriously? The great and mighty L is asking for help? I don’t believe it, what’s your true goal?”
“You’ve been here for what? Six, maybe eight years?” L deflected. “If you help me solve this case, I’ll grant you your freedom. Forgive you for what you’ve done.” Beyond started laughing, not believing a word L said, but the detective continued speaking over him. “My true goal is to solve this case. The public are calling the perpetrator ‘Kira’. He’s killed hundreds more people than the cases you were given.”
“So you think I’m better than you? That I’ll find out who he is, how he kills, because you can’t?”
“Yes,” the detective hissed through his teeth. He didn’t miss the way Beyond’s eyes twinkled in amusement. There was no way B was this sadistic before imprisonment.
“You’re lying…” Beyond sang out, scooching towards L by an inch. By now, his hands were propped out in front of him on the floor, as if they were the only thing keeping him from falling (or lunging) forward. “But…I suppose I’ll accept. It is quite drab in here, even with the puzzles you all have been giving me.”
Hope fluttered from inside L’s chest into his throat. He had him. Trapped. Right where he wanted him. It was almost too easy. Promising freedom to who would be soon a dead man, just another pawn for L to use in order to find out Kira’s abilities.
“Then, let’s-“
“Ah ah ah-“ B interrupted, holding his index finger out as if he was going to shush the detective, but refrained himself. “I have a few…demands.” And there was the catch. Of course the promise of freedom didn’t satisfy him. L moved his thumb up to his mouth, biting his skin hard as he tried to regulate his frustration.
“What demands?”
“Number one,” Beyond moved his index finger closer towards himself, now letting its purpose be to represent a number, “I wish for a haircut. Some makeup, perhaps. You know how I like to look, and it’s been…so long since I’ve looked like me, hasn’t it?”
While the notion of B looking like L once more slightly irritated the detective, he was surprised to realize that he wasn’t completely opposed to the request. At least then B would look like B. And if L planned to have Beyond’s face broadcast everywhere, as he would claim to be L attempting to catch Kira, then the latter would never even fathom the idea of the detective looking the same as his dead stand-in.
“Fine…what else?” Beyond smirked in victory, raising a second finger up.
“Two…I want something sweet to be given to me whenever I request of it. The food here is quite bland.”
“So you basically want what Watari brings me?” He filled in the blanks.
“Not exactly,” the prisoner corrected with a shake of his head, “I’d probably vomit if I tried consuming the sugar infested snacks you have since my body hasn’t processed anything sweet in ages. We’ll discuss further details later. Thirdly-“
“How many requests do you have?” L withdrew his thumb from his mouth. Yes, it wasn’t terrible making promises to a dead man, but the detective had no idea just how much B would ask for and this was starting to get ridiculous.
“This is the last one,” B reassured with an amused smile. He leaned forward, and it took much willpower from the detective to not lean away, not to give in. Even when his successor was about two inches from his face. “No more calling me B. And not ‘backup’ either. No Beyond Birthday, no Benjamin…”
“Then what am I supposed to refer to you as?” Now seemed like a good time to finally push himself up back into his hunched stand. “I need you to pretend to be L in a public broadcast with your name exposed, to test Kira. But I am not calling you by my name before that happens.”
“I never said you had to, Lawly.” Beyond rose up, his knees making audible popping noises as he did so. His eyes had rose to meet L’s gaze as he began to stand up, and now they looked down at the detective when B had finally reached a normal standing position. “I want you to call me Rue Ryuzaki.”
“Rue Ryuzaki,” the name rolled off L’s tongue slowly with unfamiliarity. He hadn’t heard a name like that before. Sensing the detective’s puzzlement, Beyond’s grin widened once more.
“You’ll never believe what the reverse of the Japanese characters for ‘Rue’ is.”
With a frown, the detective realized his successor had stolen his name. At least it wasn’t literally the letter ‘L’.
“B-“
“Ryuzaki,” Beyond hissed, snatching one of L’s wrists and squeezing it tightly. The detective gritted his teeth,
“Ryuzaki…” B released his hold. “…you believe that the public will think the greatest detective’s name is actually just an anagram of his alias?”
“Oh, come now, have some whimsy,” Beyond graced L with the action of stepping backwards a bit. Any gratitude that might’ve formed from the action was immediately erased when he shuffled his hands into his pockets and slouched his back to imitate L. “That’s far more believable than someone actually using their name- and better yet, their name just being a letter? I mean, how messed up is that?” B’s eyes playfully flicked up to the spot above L’s head, where he had claimed long ago he had discovered the detective’s name.
While the comment just made L even more annoyed, he tried to shove the insult away from his mind. It wouldn’t matter soon. Instead of a criminal who was set to be executed being L’s stand-in, like the detective had originally planned, it would be Beyond. That was how he would get rid of him. Surely Kira would get insulted by the speech L had drafted up for his successor to read. So, the detective simply nodded his head, jaw clenched as Beyond laughed aloud heartily. His laughter grew harder and louder as he was led out of the prison cell, never to set foot inside there ever again
A few weeks later, televisions across the globe broadcast a live message at different times with B proclaiming himself to be L, with a name plate in front of him labeled “Rue Ryuzaki”.
That was how the general public learned that there were some who Kira could not kill.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Summary:
“And why would I do that?” Ryuzaki questioned, his tongue not laced with as much malice as he thought it would be for the human. This boy was…an enigma to him. Why would someone give the gift of life and mobility to a creature who despises your very existence?
The hands pressed against his face loosened ever so slightly as their fingers softly trailed down Ryuzaki’s face. A tingling desire was created as he found himself longing for more contact against his skin. Light’s eyes twinkled mischievously at the reaction, as if he had known exactly what he was doing. “Because we’re friends, Ryuzaki.”
~~~
Aka, Light gets salty about his relationship with L and decides to create an idealized version of him through cursed magic. What could go wrong?
Chapter 1/3. Word count- 2,961. Fic below the cut.
Light was practically out of breath by the time he made it to the oasis. Petals from the surrounding cherry blossoms drifted carelessly to the ground, unbothered by the constant buzzing sounds coming from each and every onibi that frenziedly hovered around. It had taken longer to complete the trials this time, perhaps because the teen’s motive had shifted. He was no longer searching for his own power to keep, but one for…a different goal. Ryuk glided beside Light’s shoulder, the small red orb baring a toothy grin as he did so.
“Heh, never thought I’d be back here again! Not after meeting such an interesting human like yourself, kiddo. Don’t tell me you’re gonna abandon me here for some other loser.” Light rolled his eyes as Ryuk began whipping around, quickly injecting himself into any poor onibi’s personal space before moving on to the next one, always fleeing quickly before getting retaliated at. Both he and Light knew that wasn’t how this worked; while kodamas had obviously learned how to separate from their hosts, the latter group was not so lucky. The very notion of a human wishing to depart from their kodama made the teen scoff. How could anyone ever want to give that power up when most people weren’t even blessed with the opportunity to receive it? It was idiotic, and maybe that’s why Light felt such a kindredness to the onibi, despite the warnings given about the creatures.
Speaking of which…he was a bit surprised to see that, while some attempted to strike back at Ryuk due to his antics, none of them were attacking Light this time. Was it because he was now already attached to Ryuk and they didn’t need to fear accidentally becoming one with the human encroaching on their territory? Ignoring his own onibi, the boy reached out to Ryuk’s closest victim, a glowing orb that was as bright as the blue sky. It simply glided past his reach, unbothered, or rather unthreatened, by the human’s presence. With his resolve only hardening, Light shoved his hands into his tracksuit’s pockets, grasping the glass jar and its lid that he made sure to bring with him for his trip here. He walked around in the presence of the floating orbs for a while, until he got near one that seemed curious enough to approach Light on its own by a foot or two.
It was a deep, cool gray that’s color only darkened closer to its core. It reminded Light of Ryuz-L, L’s eyes. The color that looked so dark and hollow yet held so much weight, so much internal conflict. Yes, this onibi would be perfect for Kira. Light allowed it to hover near to him for a few more seconds to simply lure it in to a false sense of security. Then, as fast as he could, he whipped out the glass container and caught the creature inside of it, quickly and forcefully clasping the lid. Inside, the orb’s outline became more jagged as it bounced angrily against the walls of its prison. Upon its capture, the surrounding onibi zipped away and out of sight, as if they believed Light somehow had enough jars for all of them. He watched the last one dip behind the branches of a tree as he mumbled,
“Not one of them chose to protect their own…then again, I suppose they are selfish by nature.” Ryuk’s laughter rang in Light’s ear as his onibi returned to his place beside his shoulder. It seemed he had gained a new expression, the orb no longer just having teeth, but now triangular eyes to cruelly gleam at his human.
“And where do you think we learned that from?” The boy gave him no reply.
~ ~ ~
“-worked! Soon, we’ll be able to…”
“…he look like Ryuzaki? That’s really…”
“…come on, Misa.”
“-just saying!”
“…alone…he wakes up…”
Voices drifted in and out of the creature’s consciousness. He felt…tired. Yes, that seemed like the right word, even if it wasn’t the normal sensation he associated the word with. Who was speaking to him? No, that wasn’t right. There were two voices. What was happening? Why was it dark? There was a sharp “shirrrk” noise before one of the voices became much clearer. The creature could feel a pressing sensation against his body to accompany it.
“When I’m sure you’re awake, we’ll have a lot to talk about. Take your time, I’m guessing the transition can be quite jarring.” A noise (laughter?) followed this. But the creature was awake! Wasn’t he? He could hear him, why couldn’t he reply back? Before he could spiral further down this distressing train of thought, the voice continued and said one last thing before disappearing.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be there when you’re ready, Ryuzaki.”
Ryuzaki? Ry-u-za-ki. The creature mulled over this piece of information in the void, repeating the name over and over again until it started to feel comforting, making him feel all warm inside by just the pronunciation of the syllables. Ryuzaki. His name was Ryuzaki.
~ ~ ~
The next time Ryuzaki felt awake, he was actually able to see. And what a confusing sight it was. From the way he was sitting, he was able to look down and stare at his spiny hands. They were a very pale complexion, followed by a light gray long sleeve shirt. The perplexing part was…Ryuzaki didn’t have hands before. Or any limbs for that matter. Yet here he was, testing his newly acquired legs out by barely swinging them back and forth at a snail’s pace. As he did, he found his hands trailing up to brush against his sleeves, rubbing them back and forth to feel the texture. When was the last time he was able to physically feelanything? After a brief moment of this, something trickled in the back of his mind telling him to look up for some reason. Was he being watched?
Craning his neck up slowly, feeling it pop a number of times in the process of doing so, his eyes rolled upward and saw that he indeed was not alone. A caramel haired boy expectantly stood about four feet in front of him, in a bit more flashy clothes than the garb Ryuzaki had found himself in. He didn’t mind it though, because he had a good feeling that…
“You’re the one who talked to me.” His voice felt hoarse from disuse. How long had it been since he spoke to a human? Said human’s nervous smile began to grow wider and more confident. Or at least, bore the mask of confidence.
“I am,” he confirmed in a steady voice. The teen approached the creature and held out a hand. “My name is Light. But you can call me Kira. I am your creator.”
Inexplicably, the memory of Light trapping him resurfaced. He clicked his tongue. Captured…for what? To become attached to a human? No, he had been attached to one in the past and it was nothing like this (why can’t he remember the details of what it was like?). Ryuzaki drifted his legs upwards in order to plant his feet on the seat as his arms wrapped themselves around them. Light looked oddly pleased by that.
“I am not human,” he guessed aloud to see if he would spare him any hints. “And I…do not have a human. This body…is mine.” It took some effort to prevent himself from phrasing the last statement as a question. His voice was starting to rise up and away from the monotone drawl it started out as, instead filling itself with life the more entranced in himself Ryuzaki became.
His wide smile softening while abandoning the attempt of a handshake, Light knelt down on the ground so that Ryuzaki would have to look down to meet his gaze. A gesture of kindness? Humility? The teen reached up and cupped his face with both of his hands, causing the creature to marginally widen his eyes.
“Oh, you are beyond human, my friend. Beyond what science believes possible and beyond any fool’s comprehension.” The compliments distracted Ryuzaki from wondering if he was a fool since he didn’t really understand what was going on either. How could an onibi have an empty host to control without the restrictions of a different soul inside demanding your most tiresome compliance? One of the hands’ thumbs gently stroked underneath his heavy eyelid. Light’s voice, still dripping with thick honey mumbled, “You’re wonderful and…I need you to do a few favors for me.”
“And why would I do that?” Ryuzaki questioned, his tongue not laced with as much malice as he thought it would be for the human. This boy was…an enigma to him. Why would someone give the gift of life and mobility to a creature who despises your very existence?
The hands pressed against his face loosened ever so slightly as their fingers softly trailed down Ryuzaki’s face. A tingling desire was created as he found himself longing for more contact against his skin. Light’s eyes twinkled mischievously at the reaction, as if he had known exactly what he was doing. “Because we’re friends, Ryuzaki. You’re lonely, and you crave friendship with others, but you shove all of those feelings down inside of you, don’t you?” Abruptly, his hands pulled away, and Ryuzaki found himself leaning forward slightly as if to follow them before he forced himself back into his own space. He reached his own hand up and bit his fist as hard as he could. His flesh rippled around his teeth, trying to decide if it should encase his incisors or leave well enough alone.
The teen stood up and extended his hand out for Ryuzaki to grab, as the light on the ceiling framed his hair like a halo. With a smile to accompany such an irresistible request, Light pleaded, “So will you let me? I can help you, and in return…you’ll help me. Alright?” Ryuzaki raked his gaze up and down the teen once more before his mouth formed a smile around his fist. With his free hand, he slowly enclosed his palm into Light’s.
“Alright.”
~ ~ ~
Light had been working on his new little “experiment” for the last eight hours, and it was really starting to worry Misa. Not that she didn’t trust his plans! Well, okay…thisone did seem pretty outlandish. Why would he want to create a clone of L? Sure, maybe the clone could spill some of the beans on L’s greatest fears that he kept hidden deep down under lock and key. Orrrr, it could keep L’s belief system in “justice” and turn against them, making their team of two struggle with even more enemies! Whatever, Misa had already accepted in her mind that she would follow Light to the ends of the earth. If he wanted to play with a little science kit along the way, who was she to stop him? If it looked like things were going haywire, she’d step in and be the knight in shining armor for her hero. Wouldn’t that be such a romantic role reversal?
With a tray in hand containing udon and miso soup, she unlatched the door and entered into stuffy room Light had barricaded himself into all day. “Liiiight? I brought you some dinner!” Misa called out sing-songily. Her shoes squeaked to a stop when she some him kneeling on the ground, hovering over his onibi creation. Two vibrant ruby eyes stared back at her from the ground where the creature sat rocking back and forth, curled up in a ball. Her boyfriend had him clasped in a hug, which didn’t seem to be doing much to ease the fear and tears in the onibi’s eyes. Those eyes…they were very disconcerting, enough so to make Misa take an unconscious step back. They looked like the same color of Light’s when he used his powers. The color Light insisted he saw in Misa’s eyes when she did the same. It was…because of the corruption of the kodama, wasn’t it? And since the onibi was its own being with no host, she supposed he would always have those eyes. A tragedy really. Misa never told Light this, not wanting to hurt his feelings, but she had always felt a deep seated root of fear whenever she saw that in him. She avoided his gaze in those moments. This poor creature…
Light whipped his head back to face her, his glare sharp and piercing. “Misa, what did I say about disrupting me and my progress with Ryuzaki?!” The girl’s mouth hung open, her tongue tied as she fought within herself whether she should apologize for the disruption or argue that he wasn’t taking care of himself. L’s voice came out of the creature’s mouth in an uncanny, livelier tone, “Who is she?” Light looked nervously between the two of them before gritting his teeth, getting up and stomping over to Misa, forcing the two of them out of the room and protectively guarding his hand on the doorknob.
“We’re talking about his childhood, Misa. I need him to recognize his trauma and actually become reactive to it since L wasn’t. You being there is a distraction,” the teen hissed, pointing his finger at her chest. She frowned, her resolve tightening as she barked back, “Well, you haven’t eaten anything today, and how am I supposed to know if that freak killed you or not if you don’t talk to me!” Light looked slightly taken aback by the response. So far in their relationship, it had been him telling Misa off and her agreeing silently. He was unsure what to do with this new development. Good. It was good for Misa to cut him off here and not let this grow into anything deeper before it became a real problem in the future. He began to sputter an apology in order to appease her, but she cut him off, “If we’re supposed to be a team, then you have to let me in on what you’re doing. I’ve never hid anything from you, have I?” Misa kept her gaze cold as she stared at him, the latter’s eyes danced across her face searching for a response before she saw his resolve leave him as he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing it slightly.
“No, no you haven’t…” his voice became soft. It didn’t happen often, so Misa made sure to drink it in every time she heard it. She slowly set the tray down on the floor beside them before rising again, leaning up into Light’s arms and attempting to get the boy’s eyes locked on her once more. “Sorry, I’m just…stressed is all,” Light rambled as Misa slinked her arms around his waist and drew the two of them even closer to each other. His eyes finally met her, “I’m worried this won’t work if he doesn’t latch onto a single entity for support rather than a whole group. You understand, right?” No, no she didn’t, but all Misa could think about right now was how much she loved her boyfriend when he treated her gently, treated her like a glass vase rather than a decorative statue of gold that so many others did. She wasn’t that strong, no she just wasn’t.
“You’ll just let me know in the future, okay Light?” Misa watched his mouth curl minisculely before returning to its natural placement.
“Your eyes are red,” his whisper informed her. She pulled back slightly, but not too much because despite her shame, she was still selfish. An excuse hastily left her lips, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to control y-“
“I know, I know,” the boy hushed her before planting a delicate kiss on her forehead. The moment her brain processed what had happened, Light’s lips had trailed down and done the same to hers. Those cinnamon, kind, round eyes looked down at her as his perfect lips perked up into a playful smile. “I love you.”
Misa let out a happy puff of air that sounded like the mix between a sigh of relief and a small laugh. “I love you, too,” she claimed as she attempted to swipe his bangs away from his eyes more. But, as always, they immediately returned to their original positioning, as if pulled back down by some magnetic force. Light grabbed her forearm and gently led both of them to sit on the ground, grabbing the tray and pulling the bowl closer to him. After eating about half of it (interspersed with offerings to Misa every once in a while for a bite), Light decided to bring up, “Once I’m done, you’ll be able to see him. I promise. But you have to promise me not to touch him.” Misa, still in the process of finishing chewing, gave him a look of perplexment as she nodded. Light knew she was loyal to him, why would he even ask that?
Once finished eating, Misa watched Light regrettably as he slinked back into the room, no doubt going to be there for the rest of the night. With a sigh, she gathered the dishes and made her way to the kitchen to clean them. The feeling of claws digging into her shoulders made the girl harshly inhale before keeping her eyes on the ladle she was washing. Rem had decided to reappear, curling around her as always. The onibi repeated her famous phrase.
“Everyone loves you, Misa. Light loves you.” Tears burned at the corners of Misa’s eyes as she scrubbed harder and harder. Because the more and more you’re flippantly told you’re loved, the more it loses its meaning.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Beyond and A try to convince L to talk to them by giving him cake. They succeed.
(I’m only half joking. Also, this chapter comes right after the baking chapter I mentioned in a previous post)
Beyond watched the plate in A’s hands shake as she stared at the plain spruce door in front of them. B reached out, acting as if he meant to stabilize it when in reality, he was trying to scoop some of the strawberry glaze from the cake into his mouth. Despite the trembling, Atlas was quick to realize what he was doing and smack his hand away before he even grazed the plate.
“This is for L, B. We can’t just walk in there empty handed and expect him to like us.”
“You’re the one who wants L to like you,” Beyond rolled his eyes, his hands retreating into his pants’ pockets. “I never try to impress anyone I don’t know. Even Wammy, and he was nice! So why would I try to please some stranger who probably went to the University of Cambridge and got a stuck-up attitude out of it?”
“You tried to impress me with your grades.”
“Completely different situation,” Beyond waved his hand in the air as if to brush away the idea. He went to try the doorknob when A grabbed his hand, shaking her head with a fierce look in her eyes. With a loud inhale and exhale, she let go of B, reached up and knocked in the pattern she had seen Mr. Wammy use.
Knock knockknockknockknock knock knock
Sure, Beyond was curious of what L actually looked like, but his attention was focused on Atlas’s reaction instead of the doorway. He didn’t dare to turn his gaze, not even when he heard the click of a lock being undone and the creaking of the opening entrance. B had expected a bit of shock, then maybe a mix of awe and relief upon finally being able to meet the one who set in stone what their futures were supposed to be. But A’s eyes were wider than he expected, the shock never diminishing, long enough that Beyond finally gave in and looked at who answered the door. A sense of bewilderment overtook him.
It was a kid. Sure, he looked maybe a year or so older than Beyond, but B was only fifteen. And the way L dressed…it was less of an expensive suit and tie like B had imagined and more like the typical plain clothes provided for children at Wammy’s house if they didn’t ask for anything different for their birthday or Christmas. His hair was unkempt and his posture was horrendous. Beyond’s mouth hung open, but he couldn’t find a word to say.
He’s…like us? I actually have a chance of surpassing him?
L seemed just as taken aback as A and B had been (that, or his eyes always looked gaping). He simply took one step back from the door, retreating a bit further into his room, and attempted to shut the door on them. Snapping out of her stupor, Atlas blocked the door with her foot.
“Wait! We just want to talk to you about a few things! Ask some questions…about our studies.”
“You are not Quillsh Wammy, and you are not permitted to enter,” L spoke from behind the door in a low mumble, still pressing harder against it despite the obstacle. B’s jaw clenched slightly, as he nudged Atlas away and shoved the door back enough for him to slip halfway into the room. The curtained windows and lack of lights besides a few glowing computer screens made the room quite dark despite it only being four in the afternoon.
Beyond glared down at L, who he wasn’t sure would be taller or not if he actually tried to stand up straight.
“Well, Wammy and Roger know all about us. We’re your successors.” L’s firm grip on the door handle loosened before his hand fell to his side. As he stared at B, Beyond realized that L hadn’t blinked once.
“Successors…” the detective muttered, putting a finger up to his mouth and slightly biting its nail. A pit began forming in Beyond’s stomach before he could even conjure up coherent enough thoughts to understand why. Luckily, his “hero” answered for him.
“I have successors…?” B’s heart thudded in his chest, the sensation rising up into his ears as he inhaled sharply.
Atlas peeked her head in, offering meekly, “We have cake?”
“Well, this…is new information.” The smartest detective in the world currently had his knees tucked up into his chest, holding a fork only with his thumb and pointer finger as he poked gingerly at the slice of strawberry pound cake in front of him. A and B sat across from L in two lavish arm chairs. There didn’t seem to be any sort of sofa in sight, but there were many chairs scattered about. For a secret room on the fourth floor, it sure was big.
Atlas seemed happy to just be allowed to sit in L’s presence. And while Beyond had began to feel a bit relieved that he didn’t have to deal with another adult, he was mostly frustrated by the fact that L hadn’t been informed of the successor program. B thought the two of them had been special. He had been training for eight years now, and the person he had been becoming didn’t even know of his existence?
“How does that even happen?” Beyond asked, his fingers digging into his pants as his eyes burned holes into the table.
L gave a shrug, finally piercing the piece of cake with the utensil and shoving it into his mouth. While the detective didn’t smile, the wrinkles that had been appearing on his face as he pondered the tale told to him finally smoothed away.
“I try not to leave my abode too often. It’s quite dangerous for the smartest man alive to show his face to others, especially tattling children.” So maybe he was stuck up despite staying at Wammy’s House. “That, and to be honest, I just haven’t had much luck when it comes to connecting with other people.”
“Why’s that?” Atlas leaned forward in her chair, empathy leaking into her voice. B felt a spark of jealously before deciding to keep his focus on L. Of course she would care. He should too. But…it would be nice if A gave Beyond a little more concern here and there. It felt…nice to be worried about. Especially when people like Roger didn’t seem to care much about feelings.
L glanced up from his dessert, a smile finally tugging at his lips. It looked forced, like he was specifically doing it for their sake instead of his own. His monotone voice took on a bit of a more playful tone. “I may or may not have beaten up most of the other children at the orphanage when I arrived. But to be fair, they did attack me first. It was justice.” Although Beyond probably should’ve added that to the mental tally he was keeping about L’s possible arrogance, he let that one slide because he knew exactly how that felt. It was awful trying to interact with other kids who began to separate themselves from a child who was constantly either screaming or crying about numbers and names.
The intrusive thought now in his mind, Beyond didn’t even have time to stop himself from shifting his gaze up above L’s head.
L Lawliet
75231362
With a small gasp, he clenched his teeth together and dropped his eyes to the ground again. Don’t do the math, just don’t do the math. He knew how the numbers worked, but that was something he learned to keep to himself. The only thing that kept Beyond from going insane was when he stopped looking people in the eyes and triggering their numbers to appear, which later became an allowance to look at people as long as he didn’t look above them or accidentally solve the math. It was such a force of habit ingrained into him from his youth after watching his parents die, wondering that if he did the math and figured out when people died, could he save others’ from their fate? No, he couldn’t, and that destroyed him. The best thing to do was live in ignorance, like everybody else. To do that, he tried to bring his attention back to the conversation between A and L, who were discussing how annoying it was for adults outside of Wammy’s to not treat them seriously when it came to solving cases.
“…so when I’m in here, I remain safe.” L finished, both his reasoning for hiding away and the slice of cake. Without even needing to ask, A began to cut him another slice. Beyond didn’t know if it was because of her big heart or knowing that it would get L to talk. Maybe a bit of both. After all, Atlas had been the first to suggest the theory that L loved sweets when she showed B one of the shopping receipts which had numerous desserts labeled despite the other kids only receiving maybe one or two of them.
“I will say,” L shoved a larger chunk of cake into his mouth than before, and continued speaking with his mouth full, “ I am disappointed that Watari never said anything to me about the two of you. Successors, labeled Alternative and Backup, A and B, just to follow my title and positioning.” Beyond scoffed, folding his arms and leaning back in the chair while shutting his eyes. If the world’s greatest detective was going to sit like that in front of them barefoot, B doubted he would be scolded for leaning back this way.
“Imagine how we feel.”
“I do.” Beyond peeled his eyes open and met L’s steady gaze. There was still a lingering cloud of irritation that enveloped him, but B began to realize that his resentment wasn’t actually directed at L. Rather, it was towards Roger and Wammy. While it was easy and felt in his nature to blame Roger for this, this sort of behavior from Wammy sort of hurt. Despite being the first adult at the orphanage to greet you, the kids hardly saw him. He was still kind and caring when you did see him, but it was maybe once a month for five minutes, or maybe hearing him give a group of kids instructions for an upcoming event but have no one on one time with him.
Yet, while there was a bit of jealousy towards L for numerous reasons, meeting him in person made B begin to feel a sort of kinship towards him that he hadn’t felt before. If the adults were smart, doing these meet and greets with L would actually boost kids’ desires to do better. Although…in retrospect, maybe it was best that wasn’t the case, seeing how L had been intimidated by the sight of even seeing another person around his age.
Beyond felt an arm wrap around his left and immediately knew it was A. As much as she would slap him softly for things she didn’t like, she would hug and latch on to him for comfort. L’s eyes shifted between the two of them, his gaze furrowing, as he opened his mouth to say something. He clicked it shut again when he saw the look in Beyond’s eyes, begging not to bring it up. With a sigh, L simply finished the rest of the cake.
“So…do they teach you about crime cases then? Since you’re following in my footsteps?”
There was a flicker in Atlas’s eyes are she straightened up, gripping B’s arm tighter. It was like she had been waiting for this question. Come to think of it, she most definitely had been.
“Yes, B and I have helped solve seventy-eight cases so far as well as our instructed classes about criminology. On top of that, I’ve been studying psychology and biology.”
L nodded and looked at B, expecting him to list what he was good at as well. Instead, Beyond just shrugged with a fake smile.
“And B,” A added sharply when she realized Beyond wasn’t going to speak, “is good at math and physics, as well as understanding and creating puzzles, which was helpful for messed up criminals who played games with the police involving their murder victims.” Atlas then dropped her shoulders with a sigh, admitting, “We’re both trying to be good successors, but I have no idea how far behind you we are.”
The detective bit his fork, narrowing his eyes at his plate. “Well, you don’t need to worry about that. Not yet anyway. I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you!” Atlas stood up abruptly, releasing B and bowing deeply. She slowly rose back up, looking to the side at one of the computers. “It’s just…you have to understand, we’ve been spending our lives trying to be you, or at least good enough so that people won’t realize when you’re gone. Which…sounds kinda bad when I say that out loud,“ A trailed off with a nervous chuckle. Beyond frowned at L’s shifting gaze which dissected something that B couldn’t see.
“Well, I’m going to talk to Watari about this, but you two should probably get going,” the detective stood up with a huff. A familiar disappointment was brewing within B. He thought they would’ve had more time to chat. He slowly rose, debating with himself for a moment, before sticking out his hand for L to shake.
“Thank you for speaking with us.” Atlas seemed a bit surprised by B’s behavior. He wasn’t usually so cordial. To be honest, Beyond was more so doing this as a test. But neither of them needed to know that. L looked at B, at his hand, grimaced, closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, before exhaling with open eyes, smiling, and shaking Beyond’s hand. The detective had passed.
“Sorry for bugging you, I didn’t mean for us to leave on a bad note,” A picked up her plate and gripped it tightly so as to release some of her nervousness. L seemed confused for a moment before replying,
“I was not bothered once I understood the reasoning. But I’m afraid it’s almost time for Wammy to check in on me, and I believe it would go over better if I explained why the two of you were here after you left.”
“Oh…” A’s cheeks grew slightly pink, and Beyond just knew she was beating herself up about not remembering that Watari would check in at five to give L a meal.
“That’s a good point, let’s go before we get yelled at.” B grabbed Atlas’s hand and began leading her to the door.
“And just one more thing,” the detective called out, stopping both successors in their tracks. “I’d like to know your names. Your real names.”
B froze, an unexpected and confusing feeling locking him in place. He looked towards A for permission, to which she hesitantly nodded.
“It’s…Beyond and Atlas.”
“Well then,” L smiled, this time it looking far more natural. He had a twinkle in his determined eyes. “Until we meet again. I would like to have more of your homemade baked goods, if you don’t mind, Atlas. They’re better than store bought. And Beyond, I’ll talk to Wammy about this whole successor thing. There’s an eighty-nine percent chance that I’ll win that debate.” B smiled, letting out a huff before leaving with A. Only Atlas noticed on the way out that L had retrieved a small bottle of hand sanitizer and was rubbing it against his hands, but she didn’t feel the need to bring it up to Beyond.
Beyond slammed down two twenty pound notes onto the girl’s desk. He knew she was an artist, a pretty good one too. Annoyance for the out of the blue interruption became curiousity when she realized they were meant for her.
“You draw mugshots, correct?”
“Yeah…?”
“You can have these, just draw exactly what I tell you to.”
Later, B would tuck the drawing of L into his dresser drawer for safe keeping. Who knows, maybe L would stop talking to him and A? What if Beyond needed it? After letting it sit in the drawer for only five seconds, he opened it again and stared at the drawing. He took a strand of hair that pressed against his forehead and gently brushed it to the side, effectively mirroring the hair in front of L’s forehead. It was subconscious, he convinced himself.
Nothing more than that.
~~~
Author Note- Yeah, L did not win when arguing about the successor program lol. And it really put a damper on his pride because he was confident he would win.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
We’re children, B wished he could retort. But it wouldn’t solve anything to say that. Such a defense would be considered blasphemy here, since IQ tests holding promising results had been done on all the children participating in the successor program. However, “participating” wasn’t quite the right word. Sure, you could always choose if you wanted to join or not. But once you did, you weren’t allowed to leave.
~~
Beyond and A are tasked with preparing Mello and Near to be L’s successors. But when you really think about it, this whole situation is kind of messed up, isn’t it?
A/N-
TW! Major Character Death, dehumanization, self-harm, and panic attacks (I didn’t describe the panic attacks too in depth, so hopefully it’s fine?)
Did I seriously decide to post a depressing Wammy’s kids fic on L’s birthday? Yes, yes I did.
Fic below cut
”It seems like nothing I say holds any weight towards them,” L stated plainly to Watari, the finger in his mouth slightly slurring his speech. When the older man glanced behind the twelve-year-old blocking the entrance to his room, he could spot (and definitely hear) Mello shouting at Near over something trivial, with the albino letting the screaming wash past him as he glared at the blonde.
“Well, not every generation is a success,” Wammy began with a sigh, but L interrupted him.
“No, I believe these two are probably the closest to the intelligence of the first generation when they had started out.” The child detective looked back at the kids only four years younger than he was. “I simply just don’t know how to control their behavior. I didn’t study child care like you did when you founded this place.” As if on cue, one of the toy robots Near had brought with him while studying was launched and struck L’s calf.
“M,” Watari’s voice lowered as a warning. L moved his hands to his pockets, clenching his jaw slightly. He knew even before M folded his arms that he wasn’t going to apologize. Near glanced between his disgruntled acquaintance and the person he was meant to be idolizing before stiffly walking over to the toy, picking it up, brushing his hand against L’s leg as if to “wipe away the pain” and commenting, “I’m sorry. He meant that for me. If I hadn’t brought my equipment with me, you wouldn’t have been caught in the crossfire.” N seemed to fain sheepishness as he glanced up at L, but the smile he showed was a little too stretched out alongside wide, uncrinkled eyelids.
“Stop sucking up to him! You just wanna make me look bad!” The other child yelled just a little bit too loud, causing a sharp spike of pain to strike L as the detective was forced to momentarily throw his hands over his ears. That seemed to be the breaking point as Wammy swiftly ushered the younger boys out of his bedroom and sending them off to do who knows what. L only let his hands fall back to his sides when it was just him and Watari alone once more, finally safe and sound.
“I can’t teach them like this,” the boy’s voice wobbled slightly, much to his own dismay. He cleared his throat to straighten it out before continuing, “You know I don’t get along with other kids. M and N are smart, but I don’t like the unpredictable nature that follows them, especially when they’re within close vicinity of one another.” The detective slunk over to one of his armchairs and sank into it, wrapping his arms around his legs and pulling his knees tightly to his chest, effectively giving himself what he believed was the same sensation as a hug. He buried his face into himself, trying to become smaller and more snug, as if it would keep away all of the disappointment and frustration that was beginning to boil inside of him. He could crack cold cases, but not wrangle two children into behaving for thirty minutes while working with each other? It was pathetic.
Sensing L’s growing discontent, Watari brazenly strode over to a different side of the room where one of the computer desks was. He opened a few drawers before finding the correct one, pulling out a few small plastic packages containing shortbread and decorating them without their wrappings onto a platter that had been leaning beside the desk carelessly. Although Watari would’ve preferred to use a clean one (and for L to tell him when he had finished using a tray so he that could wash it), this one only seemed to have a few smudges from fingerprints, so he decided to make it work.
Presenting the desserts to the boy, Watari proposed, “Would you like for someone else to prepare them for now? They will still be your future successors at the end of the day, no matter who trains them.” L plucked one of the slices of shortbread between his index finger and thumb, quickly shoving it into his mouth before he could get crumbs all over his lap. He wasn’t completely victorious.
“Do you suppose A and B could do it?” L suggested, not bothering to finish chewing before deciding to speak with his caretaker. “According to their last report cards, at least, the nonofficial ones, neither of them have been falling behind in their subjects. They’d most likely be the best candidates for this since I don’t doubt they’d be able to maintain their grades.” It was a little difficult to grade B’s homework once he began to grow bored of it and challenged himself to get the score of thirteen on any assignment he was given. Teachers had to start giving him tests with only twelve questions or less and hope that he couldn’t calculate the grading scale they needed to change daily with him. Giving B a report card that pretended to let him be in charge of his scores was a way to appease the boy, even if actual grades and the watchful eyes of teachers seemed to show that he still was excelling despite the act that he put on. The only reason he hadn’t gotten in trouble for this was that he was simply doing this out of boredom, a crime that L understood all too well. It was what made him choose to become a detective after all.
“Would you like to explain to them the training?” Watari cut off the boy’s train of thought. Dread clumped together into a lump in his stomach as fear trickled down his body from head to toe. It was silly to feel this way. Illogical. Still, L gave a resounding “No” as his answer.
“Are you sure?” Wammy probed with a raised eyebrow. “Didn’t they used to be your friends?” Yes, they were. Before L realized that children the same age as he was were being raised to take his place once he inevitably died. He could understand those younger than him, since old age didn’t seem to discriminate on who deserved to leave this world. There was just something about knowing that peers as old as he was would live longer than him, become him, and are probably still waiting for him to drop dead, even now before he had done much to help change the world for the better. No, L couldn’t talk to them anymore without feeling unnerved.
“You may tell them as much about their behavioral training as they need to know,” the detective deflected, taking the tray from Watari’s hands and absentmindedly beginning to stack the desserts one on top of the other in the form of a tower. After only beginning detective work four years ago, he was already becoming one of the greatest to ever live. Someone with that much honor didn’t need to relay tasks to ex-friends he didn’t want to see.
“A present?” B looked skeptically at Mr. Ruvie, who had called both him and A to his office. Beyond hadn’t felt anxious about the summoning until he saw Atlas standing with him in front of Roger’s desk. He could count four different reasons why he could’ve been called into the office in order to receive punishment, but having his best friend there changed the matter completely. A was an angel, a rule follower, and to put it simply into the term she hated to hear, a teacher’s pet. People reward you when you follow their rules. It’d simply beneficial to yourself to do so, she had told him once. Which is why Beyond was more than confused on why Roger said they both were going to be given a present each. Believe it or not, B was not very well liked by the teachers at Wammy’s House.
“You both have been doing very well in your studies-“ Beyond slumped his shoulders when he heard this, “and L believes that you’re capable of taking on this task alongside them.” And suddenly, A’s rigid posture also fell at the mention of their predecessor. Mr. Ruvie may have been too dull to catch it, but B could see her folded hands clench tighter to themselves as she began to rock slightly on her feet. Fear built up in B’s throat as a stray, unwelcome thought whispered, ”How mad is she? Is she gonna hurt herself after being reminded of L?” The boy shook his head as if that could make his brain realize he was being dumb. Atlas only did that when she was already upset, or when the subject of conversation was only about how great L was and how much the two of them would have to work to be able to succeed him. She was stronger than that. Right?
“Stop being dumb,” Beyond mumbled to himself, but it seemed Roger heard him and misinterpreted the dialect to be directed at him. The deputy “hmph”ed before declaring,
“If I had any say over it, I wouldn’t have chosen you for this role. I’m sure A would’ve been perfectly fine doing it herself-“
“Mr. Ruvie, what is the task we’ve been assigned?” Atlas cut him off, irritated to see her friend be insulted by using her own talents against him. With his face wrinkled up in annoyance, Roger took hold of his phone and announced over the speakers that were placed in the hallways “M, N, you may enter now.”
Only five seconds later, two boys entered the room. B realized that he had seen them momentarily before he stepped into the office, the two of them waiting on the bench outside, one of them slouched so far down that his head almost reached the seat, and the other’s shoes barely able to touch the floor as he sat upright. Beyond had originally assumed the two were in trouble for something (he could’ve sworn he saw the blonde one get scolded by a teacher for punching someone during recess the other day). Roger rose from his desk and shuffled over to the newcomers, leading them in front of A and B while keeping his wrinkled hands on the boys’ shoulders. The taller one seemed to tense his shoulders at the touch, while the albino had already been tense even before he had been led.
“As you may have heard, M and N are from the new wave of children who came here earlier this week. They have been chosen to be part of the successor program. However…” Mr. Ruvie placed the smaller boy in front of A and the frowning child in front of B. “Since you two are first in line to be L’s successors, I suppose you could say that these two will be succeeding you. A, you are to teach N how to integrate among his peers. He seems to struggle socially, and Watari believes that you are good at befriending people.”
Beyond could tell immediately that the smile Atlas put on was fake. She was nice to people because it made things easier for her. Yes, if you got to know her, the kindness she gave was from the heart, but most of the time it was simply an act to make everything go just a bit smoother in her life. Maybe that backfired now that she’d have to teach a child she had never interacted with. B didn’t know what she was thinking about this new task, he’d have to ask her later when they were alone. N stared at Atlas with a blank look, twisting a finger through his curly hair. When A directed her smile towards him, it seemed more genuine than the one she had given Roger. Still, there was no change on the boy’s face after she did so.
“B,” Mr. Ruvie seemed to sigh his name, “You’re to teach M about why rules and getting along with other people are important. I’m sure you have experience in this field.” While it was true that B had figured out which rules at Wammy’s would get him in real trouble versus which ones were simply an inconvenience, that didn’t mean that Beyond had stopped causing problems. Maybe Roger’s slight at him from before about A handling both kids had some merit.
M was nudged, with a bit more needed force than N, towards B. The younger boy’s nose wrinkled as his eyes narrowed. “Why do you look like L?” There was truth towards the comment; Beyond had began dying and cutting his hair to match L’s years ago when they were friends so that they could claim to be twins. It had become a habit, one that he chose not to stop even after their friendship had soured. He liked how he looked, and if that bothered the detective, then L would simply have to change how he looked instead.
“Who’s to say L doesn’t look like me?” Beyond challenged, not bothering to spare the nicety of a smile like A had done with N. Roger had put on his scolding voice (which was hardly different from the grunting tone he already spoke with) as he began to reprimand B for already “acting out” in front of the younger two. But Beyond tuned him out, both because he was used to Roger’s chiding and because he caught how M seemed to nod his head slightly at B’s response.
“I know he’s a liar…” the blonde mumbled, redirecting his glare at the ground. Beyond took that as a win and felt a tiny bit of what must’ve been pride when he realized that he and A weren’t the only successors who disliked L. He spared an amused glance towards A, who hid her smile behind her fist. She faked a cough before looking at Mr. Ruvie with a real smile. “B and I will try our best. Are we supposed to have certain tasks to do with them or report anything to you?”
“Watari will oversee your progress,” Roger grumbled, turning his back on the children and he shuffled back over to his seat behind the desk. “‘Are we supposed to have certain tasks?’ The nonsense! You’re geniuses, you should be able to figure out what to do without any guidance.”
We’re children, B wished he could retort. But it wouldn’t solve anything to say that. Such a defense would be considered blasphemy here, since IQ tests holding promising results had been done on all the children participating in the successor program. However, “participating” wasn’t quite the right word. Sure, you could always choose if you wanted to join or not. But once you did, you weren’t allowed to leave.
“I have a few questions,” N announced as he walked hand in hand with A out on what Wammy’s House considered to be the backyard. It felt more like a park, but it was a nice and wide open for the hundreds of kids who lived there. Watari had entrusted A and B with the true identities of N and M, stating that while it was usually against protocol to do so, since L already knew their names when training them and they were going to be L one day, it didn’t really matter since the two successors were already held in such high esteem. Atlas had asked N if he had any other names besides the letter he was assigned, just to see what he would let her call him. He had already picked the alias Near. It suited him, although, so did his given name, Nate.
Atlas looked down at the eight-year old and smiled, trying to give him any sort of warmth she doubted L had given him. “Ask anything you like!”
“Will you tell Watari or Mr. Ruvie if I do?” The boy’s eyes bore into hers, looking dull yet cautious. Perhaps if they hadn’t been gray, they would only seem like the latter. Atlas forced a laugh, not knowing why she felt a little anxious by the question. Attempting to jest, she promised,
“I won’t, as long as it’s not about advice on dating girls.”
“You don’t have to worry about me asking about that,” Near shook his head before letting his eyes trail back to the nonexistent path in front of him. There technically were paved walkways to take, but Atlas had insisted they walk in the grass, exploring like the kids they were supposed to be.
“I was wondering why it’s considered wrong to kill animals that we find outside during break time.”
Atlas stopped walking. N continued for a few paces before realizing that she had paused when the hand clasped in hers was stretched out and hardly in her palm anymore. Wordlessly, he stepped backwards twice and slid his hand into hers again, like he was following an unspoken order. They had only started holding hands in the first place because A had felt a sense of responsibility in showing someone younger than her how to interact with the big scary world. Now she was the one starting to feel scared. Careful to not let her fear show on her face yet unable to keep her smile, Atlas asked in a neutral voice, “Near, why do you want to know that? Have you been killing squirrels? Birds?” N seemed to realize she was looking him in the eyes again, so he went back to keeping her gaze.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Would you tell me if you did?” The boy looked to the side, not answering for a few seconds. He seemed to actually be thinking about if he would. His eyes locked back on hers.
“I think I would. But if you told anybody else, then I would lie about it.” A didn’t know how to respond to that. Her mask slipped slightly and she was sure Near caught that it was fear which was causing her eyes to widen. “I was just wondering because we were dissecting frogs yesterday, and the teachers encouraged it. But I’ve also seen parents yell at their children for even throwing rocks towards animals that were able to easily dodge it. Like you said, birds and squirrels. I don’t understand the difference.” The boy broke eye contact and let his hand slip out of A’s, reaching down and picking up a fallen leaf from the ground. “I want to know why. I don’t like not knowing.”
“Well…” Atlas started slowly, crouching down beside Near as he ripped tiny pieces of the leaf apart. “There’s a reason behind dissecting frogs. We…don’t just do it to do it. We do it because…we’re supposed to be learning about anatomy and biology. Throwing rocks at animals doesn’t have a purpose.”
“But what if my purpose was to see what they would do?”
“I think you know what they would do,” A said firmly, leaning closer to the boy to keep looking at his eyes, which still did not focus on her. “And if you didn’t…you could always read up about it or ask a teacher. Or me. You don’t have to figure it out on your own, somebody’s probably already figured it out.”
“And if I did, I would get in trouble like Mello does,” N commented, twisting the now leafless stem around in his hands. Atlas sighed, her eyebrows furrowing in worry, not sure if what she was saying was the correct things that Near needed to hear.
“Right, you would get in trouble. And getting in trouble isn’t much fun, is it?” Near shook his head before finally looking back at Atlas. He smiled, yet there was something slightly off about it. His eyes didn’t match the emotion that was meant to be conveyed with his mouth.
“I understand now. Thank you for not getting mad at me.” Although still uncertain, A felt a bit of pity tug at her heart as she offered her hand once more so that they could keep walking.
“I’m not mad. I just want to make sure that you’re okay.”
“The last time I asked something like that, a teacher got mad,” N stated casually as he let himself be pulled up back into a standing position. He seemed to begin leading Atlas rather than both of them walking around randomly at the same stride. “So I don’t do that anymore.”
A inhaled sharply, tears threatening her eyes even if she didn’t necessarily feel sad. The situation began to remind her of B’s predicament. Deciding that maybe Near would benefit from hearing an example of a situation similar to his, Atlas confessed, “You know, Beyond had that issue with teachers too. He told them and a bunch of kids that he knew their real names and when they would die. A lot of adults got mad at him, told him to stop spreading lies. It made him really upset, but he stopped doing it so that people wouldn’t call him crazy and send him away.”
Near’s eyes widened, shock being one of the first genuine emotions she had seen the boy emote. “Was he telling the truth?”
A looked towards the tree line that they were reaching and gently guided N to start turning the direction the two of them were walking in. She swallowed a thick wad of saliva before admitting, “I believe that he believes he sees everyone’s names and deaths. I just…think he’s ill. But that doesn’t mean he needs to be sent away. I don’t know if you’ve got to see much of B since you’ve been here this week, but he’s doing just fine.”
“Would they send me away? If they thought I was sick?” Near asked, tugging at Atlas’s sleeve and trying to get her to look at him again.
“Maybe…” Atlas muttered, feeling uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going in. But when she looked at Near, she didn’t see something dark with the previous question he asked. Just…fear. She gave him a small smile, “But they won’t know if you don’t let them see it. You said they got mad when you asked them a question, so maybe just save those questions for me, okay?” A nod. “I won’t tell them anything, even if I do end up thinking that you might be sick. Like I said, I think B’s ill, and he’s my best friend.”
N seemed to ponder this for a moment, letting the two walk in silence as he attempted to kick a random rock that they came across. It didn’t move as far as it would have if they had been walking on a path. Finally, he spoke up, “Would you help me pretend not to be ill?” The boy moved in front of her to make sure she looked at him as he grabbed her other hand as well. “I don’t want to be sent away. I’m not crazy.”
Atlas felt her tongue lay down heavy in her mouth. A part of her said that she really should say no. Another part of her vocalized, “Yes” to the worried child in front of her. Near smiled again, his eyes twinkling as he did so.
“I like you.”
Beyond had been trying to eat his butter and strawberry jam sandwich in peace alone at his lunch table when a ruckus began over by the younger age group side of the cafeteria. With a groan, he wiped butter away from his lips with his shirt sleeve and headed over. As he made his way through kids much shorter than him since they hadn’t gotten a gross spurt yet, many parted ways to let him pass. Maybe it was his tall figure, his reputation, or just the plain irritation on his face, but they knew not to get in B’s way. As he had suspected, Mello was in an argument with another kid and had thrown some of his lunch at him, the victim now stained with mashed potatoes and gravy.
Beyond grabbed the boy by the back of his collar and started dragging him away from the other child. No doubt, that student would go tattle the moment Mello and B were out of sight. M seemed to know this and was desperately clawing at B’s hand, dragging his own feet to try to slow the older boy down, every once in a while swinging his legs trying to strike B. Alas, Beyond’s strength was greater, and he was able to successfully move his successor two hallways away from the lunch room. With a sigh through his nose, B pushed Mello into a bench, looking down at him in disappointment.
“He freaking deserved it, why’d you get in the way?!” M attempted to stand up abruptly, but B simply pushed him back down again with one hand. With much frustration, the younger boy crossed his arms and didn’t attempt to stand again.
“‘Cause maybe I want to have one lunch period without you causing problems? I could hear you all the way across the room-“
“There’s an echo anyway, it’s not that surprising-“
“Other people are having class right now,” Beyond ignored Mello’s interruption. “Like, kid, I don’t blame you. I’m sure he probably did deserve….whatever he did, but you’re gonna get in trouble, man.”
M glared at B, baring his teeth as he did so. He practically spat, “You get in trouble too!”
“Yeah, but I’m smart about it,” Beyond rolled his eyes. “You gotta pick your battles. What happened today? So many witnesses. You’re gonna get in trouble and I can’t help you when that happens.” Mello scoffed, not meeting Beyond’s eyes. “Next time, if you’re gonna cause trouble, you have to do it right.”
“Like how?” M squirmed in his seat with a grimace. The bench was polished wood. Pretty, but with no cushions, sort of uncomfortable.
“Well, what did he do?”
“He stole Matt’s goggles again!” M snapped, shooting his glare back at Beyond. “I was simply defending him against a bully. I’m justice!” Well, that sounded familiar to a certain detective he knew… Mello made a fist and punched it into his other hand, as if that would do anything. “He lied and said he didn’t do it, but he’s done it before and he looked away when I questioned him!” B was still a little new to the revelation of Mello having a friend. After a month of being here, he had actually met someone who he didn’t pick a fight with. Beyond personally found the kid a little boring, but if Matt helped M calm down, then he didn’t really care. B didn’t know what he would do without A, and Mello was supposed to play nice with others anyway.
“Okay, so next time, steal something of his. It’s not that hard.”
“You’re telling me to steal?” Mello cast a look of disbelief. He didn’t seem offended by the idea of it, just suspicious why the boy meant to keep him in check was giving him tips on revenge.
“Uh, yeah?” B retorted as if the question was the dumbest thing he had ever heard. “The teacher’s aren’t gonna fingerprint you for it or anything. Matt’s goggles randomly disappeared? Whoops, so did that kid’s book report assignment that’s due in two days. That simple.” The boy leaned forward on the bench.
“And it works? You’ve never been caught?”
“It’s not one hundred percent fool proof, but there’s a much greater chance you’ll get away with it than throwing food at a kid in front of his friends and classmates that hate you. Just take something of his, and what do you know, Matt’s goggles will magically be found in his room again as if he had just misplaced them. Then you return your hostage and make it look like a misplacement as well. Badabing badaboom! Problem solved.”
Mello nodded his head, all of the anger flushed out of his system. Beyond mentally noted that that had been quicker than last time. It was getting easier and easier to get M to calm down and listen to him. Sure, his temper was still awful with anybody else, but baby steps. Baby steps. There was at least a respect growing between the two of them because B knew what Mello was dealing with and didn’t just give him the advice of “let’s not do that again, that was naughty”.
“I think I’ll do that,” the boy announced as he was finally allowed to stand up. B glanced at the clock in the hallway and sighed when he realized lunch time was over. His food had probably been thrown away by the clean up crew. His back slouched slightly as he put one hand into his pocket and led his other hand’s thumb to brush against his lips, subconsciously rubbing it back and forth. He was only made aware of this when he caught M staring, causing the older boy to pause and slowly withdraw his thumb. Mello narrowed his eyes before stating quite boldly,
“I think you’re better than L, even if he’s smarter than you.”
“Okay, ouch.”
“You’re more fun,” M emphasized, leading Beyond to believe it was supposed to be a compliment. The kid took off sprinting, most likely heading to the bedrooms to go steal something from his perpetrator. A teacher came up to Beyond only a minute later asking if he had seen Mello. B didn’t falter as he blatantly lied to her, claiming he hadn’t seen him all day. Her face turned ugly as she informed him that many children claimed to watch him drag M out of the cafeteria. Beyond wasn’t even following his own stupid advice about choosing his battles and not being caught by witnesses. It was all that dumb Mello’s fault. Yet, it strangely didn’t seem to bug B, even when he began to be berated for “hiding” a student who needed to be punished.
While it was by no means perfect, L began to see a change in Mello and Near’s behavior each time they came in for their biweekly case study with the detective. They still bickered, but at least there was no physical altercation between the two of them. Yet, for some reason, that didn’t necessarily put L at ease. While they didn’t act out, he could sense the tension growing between them. Instead of shouting and throwing things, Mello would suddenly drop his anger out of nowhere, nodding to himself and seemingly tucking whatever situation was going on for later use in the back of his mind. Near didn’t glare or stand silently any more. Now he either would verbally complain about Mello like any other child his age would, or be a complete little angel, apologizing to his classmate and attempting to appease him.
It was odd, and while it put L off a little, he did decide that he preferred it to the usual chaos that came from the two of them. It certainly made teaching how to solve cases go by quicker. He was beginning to pick up on their solving methods and was pleasantly surprised to see a bit of him in both of them. Mello was willing to take risks. While it was brash, it could also lead an investigation team straight to victory without worrying about more casualties (as long as his method wasn’t too dangerous). Near took things nice and slow. If time was of the essence, this would pose to be a problem, but in cases where the issue wasn’t an immediate threat, N would be able to basically solve it perfectly in one try, even if it took him a while to get there. Now if only L could get them to work together, they would be the perfect successors to him. Yes, A and B were still a bit more intelligent, but-
But…he didn’t want them to succeed him. He didn’t dare say this out loud to Watari. It was selfish, he knew this. Maybe he could hope that as they grew older and flourished under B and A’s guidance, M and N would become even smarter than them and Watari would consider them to be the first choice candidates instead. No, he couldn’t bet on that. All of this nonsense thinking just because he didn’t want successors his age to take over when he died. Or was it more than that? Was it easier to accept those younger than him taking his place simply because he had not as great of a connection with them? Did he not want those he used to consider as friends to die in the same way he knew he would?
“L…” Mello shook the detective’s shoulder. He realized he was still crouched on the floor in front of the coffee table where case files had been laid out. It must’ve been the end of the session, since Near was already gone without saying goodbye. L pushed himself up, wincing as his back cracked slightly.
“Mmmh, studying is over, you can go now.”
“I don’t want to work with Near.” Dark eyes met blue ones. Yes, his foolish fantasy of the two children working together was far, far away into the future.
“You’re the top two students in your class for the successor program. You have to, that’s just simply the rules.”
“Well, screw the rules then,” Mello snarked, retrieving a chocolate bar from his back pocket, quickly unwrapping the top and chomping into it. L narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he scratched one of his legs that had fallen asleep with his foot.
“Is that my chocolate?”
“He’s really weird. He sucks up to people, but doesn’t brag about it to others when grownups aren’t looking. It always feels like he’s planning something.”
“Probably studying for finals. He is slightly ranked above you, I wouldn’t be surprised,” the detective dismissed as he began to rummage through his cabinets just a few paces away, looking for his box of chocolate bars to confirm the number that were still in there.
“No, he hardly studies, he just remembers. He’s weird, I’m serious. I’ve known him for six months-“
“So have I.”
“No, you haven’t,” the blonde growled. “You see us, like, three times a month. I see that loser every. Single. Day.” L withdrew his box of chocolate bars and brought it over to M, pointing at the empty space.
“There used to be fifteen in here. Now there’s only fourteen.”
“That box used to have twenty-six bars total, maybe you just miscounted.”
“I-“
“Mello, you in here?” L clamped his mouth shut as the boy turned around to face the doorway. The former set the box down on the coffee table, his back slightly more hunched when he rose up again. At the now opened door was Beyond. His eyes widened in surprise at the sight of L, before his gaze turned more sour. L ran a hand through his hair, trying to not feel the confusion and irritation that was building up inside his chest. How did B still look like him? They hadn’t seen each other face to face in over a year.
“He just stayed behind to chat a little longer, that is all.”
“I’m glad A wasn’t here to see you,” B barked, showing absolutely no composure in front of the kid whose anger issues he was meant to be managing.
“This is my room, I don’t know why you’re surprised to see me here.” M looked at the two of them, back and forth for a moment before interjecting,
“Well, I can just go now, so…” Beyond didn’t make a single step away from the door. He stood there, simmering. His eyes glanced momentarily above L’s head before he smirked mischievously.
“Well, Lawly, it was not nice seeing you again.” The boy gave a sarcastic two finger salute. When Mello looked back at L, the detective looked bristled. He had no idea how close B had been to saying his name. Just before the boy stepped into the hallway, L called out,
“That was very mature of you, Benjamin.” Beyond had already been turned around at that point, so all Mello could see was his shoulders rise up before he slammed the door shut, leaving the two alone. Confused by the ordeal, M just stood there for a bit. L picked up some of the files from the table and handed them to Mello, making the latter frown when he realized he was being given homework. What about stupid Near?
“Please finish that before our next session, but not all in one day, mind you.” The detective smiled, causing Mello even more confusion. What was so wrong with finishing it in one day? He had done it in the past, but that didn’t necessarily mean that his work was sloppy. When M stepped out into the hallway and found B still waiting for him, he couldn’t help but ask why L had called him Benjamin. B scoffed, hands in his pockets and walking in front of Mello, as if he didn’t want the boy to see his face.
“You know how your real name’s Mihael, not Mello?” M gaped, about to ask how B knew his name but Beyond kept talking. “Well, Beyond is my real name. Benjamin was just an alias that L and I came up with together because I wanted to be called something normal.”
“Like Matt,” Mello mumbled to himself before realizing he probably shouldn’t be telling B that he broke the rules with his friend by sharing each others’ real names. Then again…it was B. M fumbled with the files, the papers made a slight crinkling noise when they did so. “But you don’t use that name anymore?”
“No,” Beyond growled. “I hate him. He’s caused so many problems for me and Atlas, and he’s doing the same to you and Near, even if you don’t see it yet. He’s awful.”
Mello almost agreed, except…he didn’t really mind doing cases with L. It was mostly Near that made him upset during those sessions, and L probably couldn’t let them work separate like M had wanted to if Watari had power over what the detective said and did. So Mello kept his mouth shut and let B seethe. Only once Mello began flipping through the files did he realize there were six chocolate bars sandwiched in between the cases. Chocolate bars that he had not stolen this time.
It was going to be one of those days, wasn’t it? Atlas was lying on her stomach, face pressed into the carpet of her bedroom floor. Was it luck or misfortune that she didn’t have a roommate to witness her in this state? Three blankets were wrapped around her as she hugged herself as tightly as she could. She didn’t know why she felt depressed today, and it frustrated her. At least some days, it was caused by an actual reason, like the ever increasing thoughts of still not catching up to L, still not being good enough for him, no matter how hard she tried. Every day was the same. She did homework that drained her, cases which frustrated her even when she did finally solve them, forced herself to brush her hair, was unsuccessful in convincing herself to brush her teeth, and finally, train Near.
To be honest, training N wasn’t so bad. It was nice to talk to somebody, especially since nowadays B and A’s workloads for classes were being taught in different groups so she didn’t get to see him as often. And he’d been training Mello, who she didn’t mind, but Atlas did wish to have some alone time with her best friend. She did like teaching Near, even if it wasn’t the type of stuff she thought she’d have to teach him about. How to make his smiles look genuine, why people would be upset if he did certain things, he could rely on her and not need to have control over every aspect of his life just to make sure he could protect himself. It was just tiring and sometimes worrying. Yet she still had faith in him. Near seemed to trust her, or at least nod his head along with what she said and claim that he would do it. Atlas kept her word and didn’t tell anyone about the questions she didn’t think a ten-year-old would typically ask.
But today, she just didn’t have the motivation for it. If she wasn’t able to even force herself to walk to the cafeteria to eat lunch, why would she have the energy to mask the growing numbness inside of her? Hiding it all behind a smile…it was exhausting. The only good thing about today was that it was Saturday, so A wouldn’t have to lie and say that she was too sick to go to her classes. She would just keep lying on the floor, like she already had been for the past two hours now. Sometimes she’d fall asleep and then wake up hoping to feel refreshed but only felt more drained. She felt so useless, wasting precious hours of the day doing this when she could be doing more important things like saving lives by solving cases. Atlas wished B was here. The girls’ and boys’ rooms were on separate sides of the orphanage, and you weren’t allowed to cross sides, even if you wanted to see your sibling. You’d have to meet in a public place, like a lounge or classroom.
And yet, Near did not seem to mind breaking this rule, Atlas found out that day, when there were two knocks against her door, N shuffling inside before she could even reply. She tried to shove herself off of the ground as he closed the door, her arms popping and her head aching and feeling light as she did so. N’s voice flatly stated, “You don’t need to pretend for me. I know. And I’m not pretending right now either.”
A debated whether she should listen to him or not before feeling another wave of exhaustion and deciding to flop back down on the ground. She turned her head so that she could look up at the boy, her lip trembling as her voice shook.
“I’m sorry, you’re not supposed to see me like this.” Atlas sniffled, trying to keep her tears from falling down as Near sat down in front of her, one of his knees tucked beneath him and the other pointed towards the ceiling.
“You’re sick,” N remarked. Atlas could tell he didn’t mean physical illness. A few tears trickled down A’s face, which she was quick to wipe away as they came. She nodded her head.
“Yeah, I guess I am,” she admitted breathlessly. Atlas turned her face towards her blankets so that she could let herself sob noiselessly without Near seeing it. She didn’t even realize how much she was trembling until she felt N try to keep his hand steady on her shoulder, which was hidden beneath a mass of blankets. She threw the blankets away from her face, not stopping herself from breaking down in front of him anymore. A knew that she looked like a mess when she cried, her face flushing red like her eyes did. At least she didn’t have long hair like she did when she was younger, or else she’d have to worry about the disgusting result of crying too much seeping from her nose into loose strands of her hair.
She pointed out, “You learned that from me,” referring to Near’s hand on her shoulder. He nodded before asking,
“Is it working? Are you feeling better?” Atlas shrugged, not wanting to admit that the answer was no. She didn’t want N to start doubting the lessons on human behavior that she gave him. The boy silently let her continue to noiselessly cry on the ground for about five more minutes. It felt like forever in A’s mind. It was then that he suggested she sit up.
“You don’t have to stand, just move a bit so that you can breathe easier.” Part of Atlas’s brain screamed at her to just keep lying on the ground and not get up, since nothing ever changed. No matter what happened today, this feeling would come back again. And maybe if it was an adult telling her to get up, she wouldn’t have obeyed. But for her successor, she attempted to follow the command he gave her. When A was in a slightly decent sitting position, Near surprised her by wrapping his arms around her tightly. She couldn’t recall a time he had ever hugged her, ever hugged anybody. Atlas could no longer keep her crying quiet as she buried her face into the smaller child’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to do this. I’m supposed to deal with this myself.”
The boy said nothing, just let her ramble apologies over and over. It took awhile, so long that Atlas’s neck felt sore when she lifted it away from N, before she finally asked,
“Why are you here? You know you’re not allowed to be over here.”
“I know that you’re sick, and I had a feeling you weren’t doing too well when you didn’t meet me after lunch for a lesson.” When had he picked up on her depression? A made sure to smile as much as she could around the boy, so as to give him some sort of trustworthy safe place to head to when he needed it. She had been careful about how she phrased things, especially when it came to discussing the successor program. She typically put her feelings on a shelf, numbly continuing the conversation and dealing with the anger and stress about the system later when she was either alone in her room or venting with Beyond about it.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know if I can teach you today,” Atlas pried N’s limbs away from her own. She scrunched her face in disgust when the next time she sniffled ended up with her swallowing a glob of mucus.
“Can I learn about you then? We can discuss how your illness works instead of mine today.” His face stayed blank, even after she nodded her head. That didn’t bother A. If he was tired of faking emotions on his face, then he didn’t have to make any. What did bother her was a voice in her head that sounded just like her, which said that no matter how much she talked about what she was going through, none of it would help. Near couldn’t help her. Beyond couldn’t help her. L for sure wasn’t helping. They were all stuck in a system forced to become perfect little marionettes to control. A hated that feeling. And the dark thoughts surrounding the subject only got heavier when it finally clicked in her head that this system didn’t just end with her. It would happen to N, too. It already was. And if she couldn’t even protect herself, how could she possibly protect him from it tearing him apart?
When B waited for Mello to leave L’s room, he was no stranger to Near typically bolting out of the doorway and needing to step aside to let the kid do so. This time, however, the albino stopped in front of him, staring him straight in the eyes.
“I need to talk with you.”
“Well, here we are. Conversing.” Beyond smiled at his little joke. He thought he saw a twinge of anger in N’s eyes before the boy let out a small chuckle. B hadn’t expected him to actually reciprocate.
“Good one,” Near added energy to his voice before dropping it back to its flat tone, “but this is about A. Can we talk in private?” Without waiting for Beyond’s response (which would’ve been “no” since he was waiting for Mello), N took B by the hand and led him to an empty classroom, not even bothering the flick the lights on as he started talking.
“I know teachers thought you were crazy in the past.” The statement threw B in for a loop as he tried to process what that meant. It was dark enough to where he could hardly see the other side of the classroom.
“Huh?” B moved to flick on the light switch. His hand was swatted at, leaving a hot stinging sensation. That smack was supposed to hurt. Beyond glared at the dull eyes which glared right back at him. “What was that for? Are you trying to tick me off?”
“You see death. And people’s names. At least, you think you do.”
Beyond froze. Sure, he still used his eyes sporadically, but he hadn’t mentioned them in years, definitely quit talking about them before N arrived here. He glanced up at the name above Near’s head. Nate River. He didn’t dare calculate the date of death above that name.
“I’ll tell teachers you were telling me about them. Make everyone think that you’re crazy and send you away. I’ll do it if you don’t help Atlas.” N’s voice, usually so calm, had began to pick up speed a bit. He seemed to realize this and purposely slowed his speech down on the last word he spoke, despite how janky it sounded. He covered the light switch with his right hand.
“What in the world are you talking about?!” Beyond snapped, leaning over Near and trying to use his height as an advantage to intimidate the kid. It seemed to have no effect. He wasn’t acting like a ten-year-old, not even like a normal child genius like so many kids at Wammy’s were. “Why are you threatening me? A’s my friend! Of course I’d help her with anything!”
“She’s sick. You haven’t done enough,” Near accused. This only made B’s confusion grow. He had seen her in passing two days ago and she looked normal. “I need her. She helps me pretend to be human.”
“And you don’t think you are?” Beyond laughed, frustration leaking into his voice. B believed in a few things considered to be paranormal. Shinigami were real, he was sure of it. But this kid was no shinigami. The albino’s glare grew ever more sharper at the comment. His free hand clenched into a fist at his side, but B was confident he’d be able to beat him if Near decided to pick a fight.
“Whenever I do what other people do, they know something’s wrong! They know I’m different. I’m not like them! I don’t feel human!” This was the loudest Beyond had ever heard the boy raise his voice. Yet, he was way too ticked off to even care about the difference in the way N was presenting himself.
“Well, you don’t need to go off threatening her best friend because of it! Just ask me for help like a normal person next time, man!” Shoving the kid with one hand and watching him stumble didn’t relieve him of his anger like he hoped it would. So B exited the classroom before Near could stop him, off to search for A. Whatever else N might’ve planned to do while they were away from prying eyes, Beyond wanted to take no part in.
“Sorry it’s been a bit since we’ve had some one on one time,” Beyond forced a smile onto his lips as he grasped some fish in his hands to take a chunk out of. Atlas poked at her fish with a fork, seeming uninterested in even attempting to eat the meal. Her eyes seemed slightly unfocused and refused to meet B’s. The smile he had forced plummeted off of his face when he understood it was worthless. He mulled over his food as well as his thoughts, trying to decide what he should possibly say next. The two were eating outside today on the patio. It was windy, but B hoped that even a few seconds of the sun peaking out from behind mountains of clouds may help A’s mood. Beyond could feel the table leaving diamond shaped imprints on where he rested his arms. Atlas finally started the conversation up again, with quite the introduction.
“Isn’t it kind of messed up that we’re fifteen and are forced to investigate gorey murder scenes that even regular adults shouldn’t have to be exposed to?”
The lump of fish in B’s mouth became difficult to swallow as he set the rest of his food back down on the plate.
“I mean…yeah, but I guess we did choose this-“
“Did we?” Atlas’s eyes shot up to B’s. He couldn’t bring himself to look away after she did so. “Or did we just hear that L ‘finally felt fulfilled’ with his life and we decided to join him?”
“We don’t need to talk about L,” B’s voice lowered. Nowadays, he was getting irritated even hearing his name. But the boy was more worried about A’s reaction to discussing him. That hadn’t gone well in the past and it didn’t seem like it was going to go well now.
“But how can we possibly talk about the successor program without mentioning who we’re taking over for?” Atlas shoved her plate further away from her, less of an action due to lack of appetite and more so because she felt like lashing out. “You think we could leave if we asked?”
“Well, we haven’t tried-“
“I have!” B’s eyes widened. She had never even hinted at going to ask Wammy about dropping out. When did this happen, why didn’t she tell him? A’s hands reached up into her hair as she tugged at it in irritation. “Roger said that too much money, time and effort has been invested into me. I can’t afford to quit now and it would be selfish for me to do that when I could be saving lives!” Atlas’s voice had begun to start sounding wet with tears that she always stubbornly refused to let fall. Beyond reached out across the table, not sure whether to grab her hands or pull her closer by her arms. By the time he settled in between, Atlas flinched and ripped herself from B’s grasp, letting out a sharp exhale as two tears rolled down her cheeks. She wiped them away and stood up quickly, the chair screeching against the pavement as she did so.
A heavy snowball of dread kept rolling bigger and bigger inside B’s gut as he shakily stood up, his mind not wanting to believe what his body already knew. He couldn’t stop his voice from raising, even though he knew it would only make things worse.
“Atlas, you didn’t. You promised you wouldn’t!” A took a step back, her face scrunching up in a mix of anger and pain. All that escaped her lips was an unintelligible, frustrated noise. Beyond took a step closer, tears burning his eyes abruptly. His body shook and he couldn’t stop it, even when he tried to hold his own arms still. “You said that you would try the rubber bands!”
“They weren’t enough, B! You don’t get it, I did try!” Atlas shouted right back at him. Heart racing in his chest, he took her by the arms, far enough down by her elbows where he knew he wouldn’t be pressing against her injuries.
“Show me them,” he demanded, feeling each breath enter and exit him so forcefully, so painfully. Anger burned in A’s eyes as she rolled her white sleeves down by the slightest bit. Even from such a small action, Beyond could spot the large dark scabbing. His breathing rising faster and faster, he let go of her and put his hands to his face, angling his head towards the sky, gasping out the words “Oh my-oh my fricking-Atlas, you didn’t!”
I’m not enough. I didn’t stop it in time. She hasn’t done this in so long. Why, why wasn’t I enough? Why didn’t I noticed? This is all my fault, oh my goodness. Please don’t tell me she did it because of me. Please, oh my goodness, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t I stop it?
Thoughts rushed through Beyond’s head without filter, pounding against his skull back and forth like a heavy wind shaking a metal cage.
“Please don’t be mad at me!” Atlas sobbed, rolling her sleeves back down before hugging herself. At the image of her doing so, Beyond threw his arms around her and drew her close. He was still crying, taking Atlas’s head with one of his hands and pressing it against his face so that he could bury himself into her hair. In between small gasps of tears, he kissed her forehead, before returning to his tight grip around her. The two stood there inconsolably for a while. Eventually, the voice of Wammy was asking them in a worried tone if everything was alright. Beyond pulled his face away from Atlas’s hair, feeling the tiniest bit of relief that he had only been caught hugging her chest to chest. He didn’t freaking care about the rules one bit right now, and even if he did, Watari had no right to punish them when they were in such a state.
He glared at the old man, rage heating up his face. It was his fault that they were in the successor program. Him and L. No, no it was every adult who sat by at this orphanage and pretended like this upbringing was okay.
“We’re fine,” Beyond grumbled, his voice slightly raspy. Despite no longer hugging her completely, he still had Atlas pressed close to his right side, having her slightly behind him as if to shield her from anything the inventor decided to throw at them next. Watari’s fake concern looked back and forth between the two of them before he suggested (insisted) that they come inside. He didn’t tell them to let go of each other, especially when A was still silently crying into Beyond’s sleeve. Watari also didn’t question the situation any further. Of course he didn’t…not that B actually wanted him to. The two children were given the movie room to have all to themselves that night, along with a surplus of popcorn and desserts that might even make L jealous. They didn’t eat anything. How could they? B didn’t know how A was feeling, but the thought of trying to shove any sort of food down his throat made him gag and his tongue glued itself to the bottom of his mouth. No movie was played either. Instead, Atlas planted the first seed of poison when she claimed to B in a lowered voice, “Wammy’s House would be ruined without its successors.”
It didn’t take much digging to find out the grades of the top children at Wammy’s. Roger always left the key to his office in the potted plant next to the door. You’d think that he would’ve had a more creative hiding spot when there was a house of child prodigy detectives being raised. The top five children, the kids closest to being L’s successors, were ranked: Beyond, Atlas, Near, Mello, Matt. So M’s little buddy was a smart kid too, huh? Atlas said it didn’t matter. The difference in grades between Mello and Matt was deep, and from Matt to the others, even deeper. The best of the best were good enough. It would send a message.
Over the last year, ever since the confrontation between B and A, Atlas had stopped putting on her happy facade. Teachers didn’t see her as a joy to be around anymore. Her grades slipped, allowing Beyond to take first place. Seeing the placement made B taste hot, acidic bile. So the report cards were a lie. No wonder he had been allowed to train Mello. Oh, Mello…
B was proud to say that the kid still defied most authority, such as Roger and Wammy. However, he had an inkling that the kid didn’t hate L as much as he used to claim. Whatever, it’s not like he knew L in the same way B had. M had actually began gaining popularity after he refused to let people walk all over him and Matt. Sure, this resulted in Mello walking over others, but who cares? As long as the kid was happy, that’s fine with Beyond.
Near tried to threaten B one more time before realizing it was useless. The teachers wouldn’t care, and as Beyond warned him during the second instance, Atlas would hate him if he was the reason B was sent away. N was one of the kids bullied by M. No matter what A and B tried, the two were never going to like each other. Mello was intimidated by Near, and Near continued to fawn before Mello. N would be seen walking beside A, still holding her hand at twelve-years-old, with bags under his eyes and exhaustion in his steps. But the moment you spoke to him, he was as lively as any other child his age. He seemed…normal.
Both of these kids seemed so young to Atlas and Beyond. And yet, weren’t they their age when they first started training them? The thought was ridiculous. Children raising children. Just another fault of the adults in their lives. B hadn’t seen L since that one time he had went searching for Mello. He always had the opportunity to stick his head into the doorframe and mock his predecessor, but he never took it. Beyond wasn’t sure if he would be able to restrain himself the next time he saw L. He could clearly imagine grabbing the other boy by the throat, shaking him and asking him why he let A and B go through all of this when they were just kids. He refused to mentally acknowledge that L was also a kid, just like them.
Beyond felt sick the day leading up to the plan. Physically sick. His breathing felt irregular, his head ached, his stomach was turning. Too bad he couldn’t check his own death date using his eyes while looking in the mirror. His eyes…
”How long does Nate have left?” Beyond had ignored their successors’ dates for a reason. But he couldn’t refuse Atlas. She was the only one who understood the situation they were in. Even M and N didn’t seem to fully grasp what was going on. A and B had understood, even back when they were their age. Who was to say that they would ever get it?
”Less than a year,” B told her once he calculated the date.
“And Mihael?” Beyond’s words stuck to the top of his mouth.
Beyond was a monster. How could he even consider what he was going to do? B shook his head, refusing to lie helplessly in bed and dread what was to come. No, no he couldn’t afford to think like that. This was all Watari’s fault, for raising such a monster. Didn’t the old man realize that he had done it once already when he locked away a child he saw worthy to become the greatest detective ever known? Couldn’t he see what he had done when said child abandoned his friends, thinking himself superior to them and drowning himself in his work as he left them alone, making them wonder what they did wrong? Nothing. Beyond and Atlas had done nothing wrong. All they had done was exist. How was it their fault that their parents’ died, that they were taken into Wammy’s, that their best friend was a genius, that they all were geniuses?
The next day, M entered B’s room to study together, like he did every day. It was no longer really about anger management or obeying authority. Mello never said it, but Beyond was sure that the kid didn’t mind that. Now, they simply solved cases together. Traded clues. Did what their puppet masters instructed them to perform. Little did they know that B had cut his strings.
“I want you to tell me what’s wrong with this police report,” B stated, flopping the stapled mess of papers down onto the table between him and Mello. The boy had a chocolate bar in hand (always that same brand) and was balancing it with his teeth absentmindedly as he looked down at the case. Two cups of coffee sat on coasters in front of them, wisps of steam trickling out from each mug.
Beyond took his and scooted the pushed aside jar of sugar closer to himself. He added one, two, three, four, five spoonfuls into his drink before stirring it around and taking a gulp. It was sickeningly sweet. Somehow, that felt right. M was staring at the scene in front of him, before letting out a small laugh with raised eyebrows, glancing at the discarded spoon.
“Plan on dying of a heart attack anytime soon? If someone’s gonna die of diabetes here, you gotta at least let it be L,” the boy joked. B smiled, but didn’t look the boy in the eyes.
“Sometimes you need a lot of sugar to sweeten up the bitter taste life leaves in your mouth.” Mello exhaled with a noise sort of like a laugh, but Beyond could tell the kid didn’t know how to respond to such a comment. Instead, he lifted his drink to his lips and drank it unsweetened. Now it was B’s turn to raise an eyebrow, as he wondered if the lump in his throat had been caused by the sugar he just ingested. “Mr. I Love Chocolate doesn’t add any sugar to his coffee? That doesn’t add up.”
As if to spite him, M took his chocolate bar, dipped it into the coffee before proceeding to take a large chomp off of the wetted sweet. He made a big show of chewing, even if his mouth remained closed.
“Mm mm mm…you know what, that’s actually not terrible.” A smile stretched across Mello’s face as he set his candy bar down on the table, right on top of the files. B’s hand twitched before sliding another small jar over towards the two of them. Originally, Mello had assumed it was something like more sugar in case the old jar was close to being gone. Instead, there were smooth, flat circular pieces of chocolate lying inside.
“You know, I heard some people do actually put chocolate into their coffee. Pretty sure they use these. Chocolate drops. Wanna try some?” M shrugged, saying “okay” before dropping a few pieces inside his cup. B smirked at him. “So you dip almost half of a candy bar into a cup of coffee, but only add five chocolate drops into your cup?” He shook his head in fake exasperation. “Wow, what have you done with the Mello I know?”
Both because he wanted show off to B and surprise him, M dropped every last chocolate drop into the coffee. Beyond gaped with a frozen smile on his face, letting out an uncomfortable laugh as he saw splashes of coffee begin to stain the table top and chocolate rising above the liquid’s surface, despite not even floating. The boy gulped the drink down as fast as he could, catching at least twelve melted remnants of chocolate in his mouth that he had to chew at least a bit lest he choke. B looked at M with wide eyes, still gaping as Mello crossed his arms and smirked at Beyond.
“Don’t question my chocolate expertise ever again.”
B didn’t respond in the way Mello thought he would. The older boy stood up, his mouth finally clicking shut, turned around, and walked over to the corner of the room where a lamp stood. M’s smile faltered, wondering what went wrong. He leaned forward in his seat, resting his arms on his knees as he squatted.
“Sorry man, were you hoping to have some?” Beyond didn’t say a word. Mello stood up, walking slowly towards him. “B…?” He saw B’s shoulders shake moments before he grabbed the lamp by its pole and smashed it into the wall. Glass rained down onto the ground as M’s eyes widened at the sudden outburst. “Beyond, what the-“ Mello gulped when he watched the older boy fall onto his knees straight into the broken glass. Stepping around shards he could spot, M made his way over to B and placed a hand on his still shaking shoulder. Beyond looked up at him with glossy, unfocused eyes. It was really starting to freak M out.
“What’s wrong with you, do you need help?” Mello demanded to know. He observed the tremor in B’s jaw. The latter mumbled something M couldn’t understand. “What was that?”
Beyond swallowed, eyes wide yet still seemingly unseeing. “You would’ve known if it was cinnamon hiding it. They teach all of us that.” Cinnamon…cinnamon? He tried to recall what B could possibly be referring to. He didn’t have to when the boy continued rambling, “I knew you-I knew if it was chocolate, you would…” As Mello began to finally understand what B was implying, it was as if clarity washed over the latter’s eyes. Beyond jolted upwards, grabbing M by the shoulders and shouting at his face, “You go get Watari right now! Tell him you need a doctor, it’s an emergency!” M stumbled backwards, shaking his head and looking at B in terror. Yet he still seemed to follow his advice, practically ripping the door off of its hinges before sprinting down the hallway to find help.
Beyond felt like throwing up, his chest heaving with every breath he took. How could he poison him? How could he poison him?! It was supposed to get revenge against L, take away the one thing Wammy’s was working towards. It was supposed to keep M and N from ever suffering the way B and A did under the system. Oh, crap! Near. Beyond darted out of his room and headed for N’s. He threw open the door to find no one inside. Panting and running his hand through his hair as his mind panicked wondering where the boy was, he decided to take off towards the girls’ rooms all the way across the building. If Atlas was planning on killing him and then herself, just like B had agreed to do with Mello, then she wouldn’t care about the school rules anymore.
In the back of his mind, Beyond processed that he could feel something trickling underneath his pants. I’m bleeding, he thought distantly, the fact causing no further panic or stress in his mind. He just had to get there in time. Even if…even if-
The first thing that B perceived upon entering Atlas’s room was the overwhelming metallic smell of blood. Holding a hand up to his mouth in shock, he saw two figures lying on the ground at the back of the dark room. Puddles were soaking both of their bodies and clothes. Beyond knew even before he got a good look that Atlas’s wrists had been torn into once more.
A staggered breath caught B’s attention as he broke himself from his frozen stupor of standing at the doorway. He didn’t even close the door before making his way over to the bleeding corpses. No, not corpses just yet. Tears welled in his eyes when Beyond saw Atlas’s glossy eyes left staring open, looking towards Near’s body. The boy trembled ever so slightly, taking in a small sharp gasp. A’s wounds had been focused on her wrists, oh so precise. But the ones covering N’s body were sporadic, seemingly done rapidly in as many places as possible. It was a miracle that the boy’s face remained mostly untouched. The dark red puddle which pooled beside his throat had began to soak his white hair. B fell to his knees, scanning the boy’s body to see just how many stab wounds there were. His eyes trailed above Near’s head. His number was the same as before. The date that B and A had agreed to enact their plan. N would not survive.
Tears rolled down B’s face as he lifted the boy up into his arms, trying to give the kid any semblance of comfort. To his dismay, Near’s left hand was still firmly clasped in A’s hand. Beyond tried to separate the two of them, which only resulted in a slightly more audible whimper from Near. His eyes were wide open, yet seemed so small compared to all the other times Beyond had seen him. His pupils danced frantically across B’s face, searching for something that B did not know how to give him. All Beyond could think to do was hold him close, rocking back and forth slowly, promising “It’s okay, Nate. It’ll be over soon. You’re so strong, Nate, it’s okay.” B didn’t stop lying until the constant whimpering below him began to slow down until all he was left with was silence. Near’s eyes bore into Beyond’s one last time. It was the first time he had ever seen this boy genuinely afraid. He truly was a kid, despite what anybody had ever believed about him. Including himself.
Beyond felt everything around him slow down a bit. His eyes were sore from crying. His arms were stiff from the position he held Near in. Staring at Atlas made him feel like he was watching a movie through a screen. Why was everything in 2D? Only one thought stuck out in his mind. Mihael and Nate’s numbers had been different. Similar, but definitely not the same day. Maybe he could survive this. The pounding of footsteps finally allowed for B’s senses to come back to him as he craned his head towards the doorway.
It was L.
Why wouldn’t it be?
The terror of the situation came back to B at full force, his chest heaving once more as his lungs pounded against his rib cage. There was anger, fear and disgust in his predecessor’s eyes. Beyond whipped his gaze back towards Atlas, hoping to find her weapon. Spotting the blade which rested in her unclasped hand, B snatched it and tried to plummet it into his own throat. He felt himself get knocked backwards, head hitting the wall behind him as Near’s body was shoved away from Beyond’s lap. L pinned him down, applying firm pressure against his wrists and digging his knees into B’s stomach. He twisted the hand that held the knife, causing Beyond to cry out and drop the weapon. B could hear it slide away before he pealed open his eyes to meet the gaze of the man who he used to hate more than himself.
No. That wasn’t right.
L, the unemotional, best detective in the world, was crying. He glared as his tears fell onto B’s face, gritting his teeth and holding his former friend in place. He was crying.
This was not a man.
This was a boy.
A child.
Just like A.
And B.
Beyond shook his head, still not wanting to believe it. He attempted to swing his arms and break free from his captor’s hold to no avail. The two struggled there, an uncomfortable warm mass of hate, before eventually help arrived. As two grown men lifted B up by his arms like a rag doll, L gave him one last glare, spitting with more venom than Beyond had ever heard leave his mouth.
“You are sick.”
Mihael lived two more days before passing away in his sleep in a hospital bed. The news didn’t surprise B when he finally forced himself to do the math. He had lied all those months ago to A, telling her that M and N were fated to die the same day. It was rubbish. He didn’t have the heart to check the death date of a boy he cared for, a boy he planned to kill. The news of the death still sent B into a depressive episode, as if his current situation wasn’t bad enough. He was supposed to die with everybody else. Why was he not dead yet? Surely they would kill him. He took away three of their best products. Beyond even caught news through eavesdropping behind his locked “bedroom” door that the successor program was being dismantled. B should be ecstatic, right? The plan worked. But did it seriously need three, possibly four people to die in order for that to happen?
Beyond paced around barefoot against the cold basement floor. The room he was in didn’t even have a bed. There was a lavatory, thankfully, as well as a sink. But no mirror. No hair brush, no shower. He was thankfully able to lay down without touching walls completely parallel to each other, but just barely. There was a small flap that was part of the bottom of the door, which only opened towards the outside after using a key, by which Beyond had been provided food and water. There were no windows. The only glimpse towards the outside world was through that small, little flap.
“Why do you own a place like this, Quillsh Wammy?” B whispered in a small voice, letting his fear lace his words. He stopped pacing. This was dumb. Surely he wouldn’t be told to “think about what he had done” and receive a life sentence. Beyond knows what he did was wrong. If he could undo what he did, or better yet, trade his life for the three of theirs, he would. He would…he wasn’t lying, he promised he wasn’t. Finally, something that wasn’t food slipped through the flap. Beyond snatched it as fast as he could, flipping open the folder and scanning the paper for when his court case would be due. His anticipation fell into confusion. It wasn’t a court document. It was police report. B dumped the contents out, hoping to find what he was longing for hidden beneath all of this junk.
A small slip of notebook paper fell out. He unfolded it to find a message which read,
Knock on the door three times when you are finished so that you can send the documents back over again.
He dropped the slip of paper, watching it fall unceremoniously to the ground. It hadn’t mattered that the successor program was torn apart. Beyond was still stuck in the system. And he was never allowed to leave.
A short oneshot from my Darkley’s Au, in which I will post more of although out of chronological order)
The ninja were supposed to register as students at Darkley’s Boarding School for Bad Kids and destroy the system from the inside out. The problem? Zane can’t even try to pretend to be bad for the life of him, leading to him being an easy target to pick on.
Lloyd Garmadon (who is just so evil, Mhm definitely) decides to help the poor guy out.
Zane was not having a good time at Darkley’s.
Sure, it was for the greater good that he and the other ninja pretended to be students just so they could overthrow the whole “teaching kids to be evil masterminds” thingy from the inside. But already three days in, the white ninja wondered if these students were too far gone.
His friends were much better at pretending to be misbehaving kids (perhaps because they had experience with Sensei), but it didn’t come naturally for Zane. It was for the mission, but he couldn’t bring himself to sneer at whatever kid was being bullied in the hallway. Each disapproving stare passed down from his temporary teachers made everything even worse. Zane shouldn’t feel guilty for not living up to their villainous expectations. But he did.
Combat classes were the worst. Yes, Zane was capable of holding his own when paired up to spar against a fellow classmate. But yielding in a fight wasn’t enough for these messed up adults. Zane would have his opponent kicked to the ground, held in an immovable position, but Skales wouldn’t call the end of the match until one of them was considered “no longer a threat”. Apparently serpentine had very different ideas of what that phrase meant, at least compared to the ninja’s moral code. And yes, it was Zane’s fault for losing each match after deciding he didn’t want to injure others more than necessary, yet it still hurt to watch how quickly the other students took advantage of this once they realized what was happening. And seemingly with no regret.
That’s how Zane found himself as the target of the week. It was constant shoving, kicking, pranking, and tripping. He never told the others about this, although he could tell they were starting to catch on to the lack of natural smiles plastered on the white ninja’s face. It was his burden to bear for the team, for the mission. It wouldn’t last forever, surely. People would get bored and move on, right? And better him than one of his friends. Jay had been a nervous wreck the first night sleeping at this nightmare of an institution, and Zane didn’t even want to imagine the state his anxious friend would be in if he was in his position.
The ninja tried to keep the thought in his head that this would all be over soon enough each time that he was stopped by another gang of inmemorable faces. But there were only so many times that it worked well enough for him to manage throughout the day.
Today was not one of those days.
Zane could count at least three instances that had occurred already and school was just barely reaching the end of the day when he could finally retreat inside his dorm and find refuge with his friends. All of his last period was spent staring at the clock, waiting for his release. The moment the bell rang, many quickly rushed out the door. Hoping to avoid another tussle with anyone else, Zane waited until most of the noise had died in the hallways before leaving the classroom.
The white ninja grabbed his books from his locker as he focused on speed walking in the direction of exit which led to the dorms. Without even a warning, Zane fell flat on his face, books sliding against the wooden floorboards as his nose began to ache from the sudden landing. He had been tripped. The ninja had just wanted to go to his room. Instead of attempting to do so or even entertaining whoever was his assailant, Zane stayed riggedly laying down.
The loud, forced (attempt at being intimidating?) laughter that the ninja had mostly been ignoring was cut short abruptly, the sound of squeaking shoes replacing it as the student shifted back and forth awkwardly. At least, Zane assumed that’s what he was doing. After the longest ten seconds of his life, a voice asked the ninja,
“Uhhh…you good?” Zane let out a heavy, very audible sigh, trying to shake his head while keeping his face planted on the ground. There was another small gap of silence before the voice mumbled awkwardly, “Well, shoot, um…here, let’s just…” The ninja felt himself being picked up by his armpits, now forced into a half sitting, half kneeling position. His tired icy eyes met brilliant green as he finally began to pick apart his attacker’s face. There was something familiar about this kid…
Shooting up onto his feet in an instant, Zane’s eyes widened in recognition. This was Sensei Wu’s nephew, which a few of the other ninja had been trying to talk to with no avail. Wasn’t his name…
“-Lloyd,” Zane’s attention was given back to the blonde grinning at him, although the boy’s eyebrows were slightly pinched in worry. “And you?” With both of them standing up now, the white ninja felt like he was towering over the kid, nearly a head taller than him. He blinked in shock while it dawned on him that he was the first to catch Garmadon’s son at a time when the master of wind hadn’t been around to tell them to get lost.
The white ninja cleared his throat, extending his hand out to shake. “My name is Zane. It is a great pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance.” Lloyd looked at Zane’s hand a bit confused, before opting to start picking up the scattered books on the ground.
“Guess my infamy spreads pretty quickly, even to newbies,” the boy claimed with a little bit of snarkiness etching his words. Despite what the younger Garmadon claimed, Zane hadn’t particularly seen anybody flocking to hang out with the kid. Lloyd stood up with all the books in hand, much to Zane’s embarrassment at not moving to help sooner. The former’s eyes flicked back and forth across the hallway before he leaned towards the older boy and whispered, “Sorry about tripping you. I thought you had tougher skin. Didn’t think you’d just…ya know, psssh.” The blonde mimicked stumbling over. Seeming to compose himself rather quickly, he huffed, blowing a piece of hair away from his face. “Man, Brad was so much better at this initiation stuff…”
Zane tilted his head, accepting the books from Lloyd. “Initiation?” Those bright eyes quickly snapped back to Zane’s direction. He paused for a moment, seemingly holding back a laugh as he looked the ninja up and down (whatever was so funny, Zane could not tell), but the boy answered him anyway.
“Agh, new kids are always treated like trash. I was just trying to show you the ropes, ya know? Like others did for me.” Lloyd stood beside Zane, taking no shame in wrapping an arm around the shoulder of someone he just met. The former motioned with his free hand to something that didn’t exist. “I mean, here? You gotta be bad, or else you’ll get squashed real quick. Trust me, it could always get worse in a place like this.”
Zane sighed, pulling away from the blonde’s grasp and looking at the ground instead of the cheerful boy.
“But I simply cannot bring myself to harm others so easily. That’s not who I am.” There was another bit of silence that followed, but this time it felt more like mutual understanding instead of a loss for words. Finally, a snap of fingers brought Zane’s attention back to Lloyd, who seemingly just thought of something.
“Idea,” the boy smirked at him with a glimmer in his eyes. “What if I teach you a thing or two about pranking, hm? Nobody likes being pranked, but pranks don’t necessarily have to hurt anybody. And the teachers like it when you do it, as long as it’s not towards them.”
Something akin to hope fluttered in the ninja’s chest at the possibility of finally receiving a way “out” of constant disappointment. He asked hesitantly, “And during combat?” Some of the light died in Lloyd’s eyes as the blonde rubbed the back of his neck.
“Well, okay I have no full proof plan for that. Ima be honest, I kinda suck at combat. The other guys just know not to mess with me because I have the best roommate in the world.
“But…maybe just look like you tried your best? Stay down, pretend you are a lot more hurt than meets the eye? Maybe? Okay, I dunno.” The blonde’s shoulders drooped as a real smile made its way onto Zane’s face in what seemed to be the first time in a while.
“Thank you, my little friend. I shall attempt to follow your advice.” An embarrassed blush came upon Lloyd’s face as he mumbled,
“Yeah, well don’t mention it. Like, I actually mean that though. I don’t wanna get in trouble for this. If teachers were around right now, they’d probably accuse me of being too ‘nice’.” The boy made bunny ears with his fingers on the last word as the ninja patted his back.
“I will keep your secret safe.” As Zane started to walk away from him, Lloyd put a hand on his shoulder. Zane tilted his head once more in confusion, not unlike a puppy would. “I’m sorry, friend, I thought we had finished our conversation.” Lloyd let out a small chuckle, nothing like his villainous laugh from moments before. It was more bubbly, filled with sunshine and life.
“You kidding? I gotta show you some epic prank ideas. We could talk about it in my room! Just, uh, don’t tell Morro that we did. He gets defensive about his side of the room.”
And for the second time that day, warmth spread across the white ninja’s face as he smiled back at his sensei’s estranged nephew. Maybe there was hope for the Darkley’s kids after all.
I need your guys’ assistance. I have two fanfiction ideas in my head, both having L, Beyond, and A as the main characters. However, I keep thinking about both at the same time and somehow end up writing neither because of it?
So, tell me which one you guys would rather get first (small descriptions of each below poll)
Which fic should be written first?
B’s backstory (life at Wammy’s house)
Wammy’s house of horrors
Voting ended onSep 10, 2025
Option 1- A fic that goes over Beyond’s life at Wammy’s House. In it, it would show his friendship with A, him dealing with his shinigami eyes during social situations, and his slow downward spiral into wanting to surpass L. (L actually does have physical appearances in this book, even if it’s more so in the second half of the story.)
Option 2- A fic where Wammy’s House is doing experiments on the kids there (basically, if you’ve ever googled something for writing that you didn’t know about the human body, that’s the sort of information Wammy’s House would provide to you). L’s the main character in this one, and he basically has to deal with the consequences of other kids his age despising him for choosing their pain over his own. (Beyond threatens L, A later joins the two of them, and Near and Mello are here too. Not just as background characters but I don’t know if I want to spoil their roles just yet)
I have a lot more in my head about these two ideas than the simple descriptions I gave, but at that point, I’d just be ranting about the plots lol. Pls help me choose one to work on so I can actually sit down and write lol.
