(Author's note: Quindecim, and other related characters that crossover into this Death Note story were used with artist licence from the anime 'Death Parade'. However, the majority of this novel is based on events within the Death Note mythos. The character of Demetre Draycott is my creation and was first introduced within my novel: 'The Draycott Factor')

A Death Note Novel

"DEATH IS NOT FOREVER"

CHAPTER 1:

"Welcome to Quindecim"

Walking down a long hallway, and greeted at first by the appearance and the sweet sound of a waterfall, one would think they were entering a beautiful resort, and this was but the foray to a wonderful lobby. The truth was, it was the complete opposite. It was an image in an attempt to portray a fake calmness before realization set in.

"Welcome to Quindecim," a cordial, tall, white-haired man said. "I am your host, or bartender, if you prefer. My name is Decim." With an extended hand, the bartender welcomed the young man to sit on a barstool in front of the long bar. Behind Decim was an array of shelves, glasses, and a large mirror—for which the guest could see his appearance. Around him, the place gave the appearance of an average place of social gathering. "Would you like a drink?"

"No, thank-you," the young male said back. He looked around. "Where is this place? And who was that strange elevator operator who brought me up here with the creepy smile, two-tone hair, and the abundance of ear jewelry?"

"That would be Clavis," Decim replied, without needing to think about the answer. "Forgive him, it's not the first time I have heard that. He is always smiling, like a creepy clown. It's how he greets all his passengers—with smiles and good tidings."

The young man sat on the bar stool and mused. "This is a strange place. But why was I left in the waiting area for so long time? When I first found myself here, as if I awoke from a dream, I was escorted to sit and told to wait there for instructions. It felt like I have been waiting forever. I thought someone had forgotten about me?"

Decim cocked his head slightly. "In truth, we are as of yet still unsure what to do with you." The young man queried as to what he meant. Decim replied: "The matter is still being debated, but you are rather a unique guest. I normally would invite you spin the roulette wheel to choose a game to play with another, but that privilege has been waived. I have been instructed to have you wait for a Special Arbiter here. So, once again, would you like a drink?"

"No, thank-you," the young man repeated, a little annoyed. "And what do you mean by Special Arbiter? If I understand you, you mean: one who issues a judgement?"

"Correct. I am an Arbiter, but of a different kind. However, I cannot way verdict on you. You are beyond my ability."

Seeing his own face in the mirror, the young man was concerned. His brown, straight hair was slightly ruffled, as if he had been running or in a big wind storm. He looked back at Decim. "What am I being judged upon? Where am I?"

"To your first query, I cannot say. To your second question, you are in QuinDecim, and I am your bartender."

"You've already said that, and why do you talk in such monotone tones? Logically, that is sociopathic behaviour."

"Then I shall not repeat myself," Decim said shortly, and then went about his duties. He picked up a dish towel and began drying crystal glassware that had been sitting in a sink on the other side of the bar. It appeared to have been just washed, previous used, and quite recently. The young man almost felt like that Decim sounded offended. That he had made a faux pas.

The young man sat in silence for a few moments watching the bartender work. He felt a bit of shock, sitting in this strange place. He had no idea how he got here and no one was telling him anything. It was as if everything was a secret.

Once Decim had finished drying a series of crystal glassware and put them back on the shelf behind him, he turned back, towel draped over his left forearm like a server about to ask a guest for their food order in a restaurant, and said, "May I ask your name for the record? I believe I may have err'ed in not asking before."

"And to what record are you referring? Like a criminal record? My father is, or was, a member of the NPA, but he quit to work on the Kira Case. Unfortunately, the main detective working on the case mysteriously died of a heart attack. I don't remember much of what transpired, or how things went about. My memory is a little blurred."

"As to be expected, you have a form of amnesia. To my previous question: everyone who comes here must follow the rules. To play a game, you must first state your name to become a proper contestant. Merely calling your Guest is improper and impersonal. However, as stated, you are not allowed to play until a Special Arbiter arrives to speak with you. In any case, I would like to know your name as a point of congeniality."

The guest didn't say it. Instead he asked, "Who is this Special Arbiter?"

Decim paused for a moment as if attempting to compile an answer, almost like he wasn't sure what to say because something was said off-script. "There are may Arbiters in this place, but only a select few for special cases like you."

"And why am I a special case? What makes my situation so unique, as you stated earlier?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not authorized to answer that. Unless you remember details prior to your arrival, I cannot discuss them to you. Let me ask you, however: What is the last thing you remember before coming here?"

The young man thought. "Running," he answered, "almost like my life depended on it." He then looked at the clothes he wore. "But I'm dressed as if for business, not jogging or the like. I'm twenty-three years old."

"Anything else?"

He shut his eyes. "I seem to recall I was in a large building like a warehouse or something like that, but I don't know why, it's all so distant." He put his hands to his head and ruffled his hair in frustration. "I can't remember! Except…" —he gasped— "for the feeling of dread and fear. Something about where I was drove me to want to escape. I am a detective of the NPA like my late father, maybe I was in danger? But why I was in that warehouse eludes me."

"Correct—the National Police Agency in Japan. You are also listed as being a member of its Information Bureau."

"Yes, I think? That sounds familiar. I seem to recall breezing through the police foundation academy, but things are…"

"I understand," Decim said. "You can't remember. That is perfectly understandable. Like I said, you case is unique. We have never had anyone like you at Quindecim before. While the particulars of your case cannot be discussed, I am at liberty to say that memory recollection is not a linear possess. The human brain functions like a puzzle. But if not all the pieces are at play, then the picture as a whole can never be seen to its fullest."

The young man sighed. "I'm not a drinker, but maybe I will take you up on that offer for one."

Decim nodded and produced a thin smile, pleased. "What would you like? I can make you anything you wish. I have knowledge of many alcoholic mixtures and beverages and their different preparations."

Decim named off a few of the more renown choices.

"I've never had a Banana Daiquiri." The young man's face lit up as if he had found something exciting. "I would like to try that one. It may just dull the boredom."

Decim arched a brow. "Very good, sir," he said, and then went about making it.

The young man watched the bartender go about his duty. "By the way, my name is Light Yagami."

The bartender repeated his own name as if only to be cordial.

x x x

His name was Duo, mainly because he did double duty. He was an Administration/Information Officer and a Special Arbiter rolled into one. After discussing the issue of Light Yagami with his colleagues, he was both unsure and annoyed about exactly what to do with the young Japanese man who was dead.

Normally guests would play a game and the winner/loser would be judged by an Arbiter after the guest remembered how they enacted in life and were then be sent to the appropriate place, either to be Resurrected or into the Eternal Void.

But in this case, it wasn't so cut and dry.

Light Yagami despite having amnesia at the moment had conducted himself in the Human World in such a way that it was unprecedented, using a supernatural tool to murder thousands of his fellow humans under the sanctimonious guise of Godhood, believing he had the power of a deity and had been chosen to enact justice upon the wicked. He called himself Kira.

Duo had to get context on the tool used to fully understand what was going on, and when it was explained to him, he learned it was called a Death Note. It gave a person the ability to write down a person's name on its pages and kill them. The default method of death was a heart attack, but Light Yagami learned to use it engagingly—manipulating its rules to kill in provocative ways.

One rule Duo took particular interest in was about the user: they can neither go to Heaven nor Hell.

While the concept of Heaven and Hell, or the like, was created by Humans based on religious ideology, the premise of reincarnation and purgatory could be thought of as the same in Quindecim.

Permission was given to review the rules written in the Death Note requested by Administration, and a representative was sent over from the Shinigami World, who took on a human-like appearance. He said that his real identity was enough to scare small children and he didn't wish to subject anyone to it.

"And this is all of them?" Duo asked with irritation. "This is abhorrent. Why was something like this even dropped in the Human World to begin with? And this isn't the first time?"

Quindecim had a relatively moderate history and it was created by its creator to deal with the backlog of human souls dying at an alarming rate, expanding exponentially recently, especially in the last two thousand years with all the bloody wars humans fought and killed each other over. In the last one hundred years alone, the population in the Human World had increased dramatically. It was almost like Humans had no restraint and engaged in procreation as if they were rabbits.

"So, he can't be judged normally, nor do we want to take him off your hands," the handsome blonde Representative told him. He had a sweet sounding voice. "There is always an exception to every rule. However, this is a special case. Although, the Shinigami don't take issue in how a Death Note is used. It's up to the user who takes possession of it once it touches the Human World to see that it's used responsibility. But Light Yagami is evil and the Shinigami King has banned him from our realm. His influence would most than likely turn our realm upside down and start a revolt. The Shinigami King has already dealt with one such group before and they were all but eradicated. The Brigade of Life no longer poise a threat."

Duo nodded. He had heard of this group and there was only one of its species left—Morph was his name—and Light Yagami had encountered him once. Administration watched Morph. But rules prevented anything to be done about him.

"How do you think we should we precede?" Duo inquired. "Any thoughts?"

The Representative offered a suggestion and Duo took it under advisement. In fact, as long as Light Yagami was kept in the dark about his old life, it was quite a good approach in dealing with an unexampled situation.

"Quite an unusual case, indeed," Duo mused. "However, if he to remain in Quindecim, he'll need to prove his worth. We'll challenge him. And if he passes all the tests, then Light Yagami will be trained as an Arbiter and will become a permanent resident."

To be continued...