The computer terminal blinked monotonously in the darkened room which also blinked simultaneously with the dim light of the terminal. A TV was turned on some where, a black and white program prattling on about love.

Love the small child wondered as he stood in the middle of the room, Love?

Around the child was chaos. Chairs broken, tables overturned, and blood…blood was spotted across the room like it was some bizarre fashion statement. The room was in an anarchic storm, and the boy with the black hair was the eye.

No, the child thought to himself. No, there was no love. Love was for fantasies. Love was a conjured up emotion for us to hopefully try and cope with the every day harshness of reality.

"Love…" He muttered as he approached the blinking terminal. In front of the terminal was a man, also with black hair, lying face down, with his head turned, like he was sneaking a nap at the office.

Blood trickled down the sides of the man's mouth.

The boy placed one hand on the back of the man's head in some form of compassion? Love? …he doubted it. Gratefulness seemed more appropriate.

The pale highlighted flesh of his hand touched the blinking computer screen. His drooping tired eyes stared in small wonder at his future, at who he knew he had to become.

On the computer screen blinked one letter plastered onto static. It was the one letter that would define his life.

L.

#---

This is my story about L and an important case he took on before he met Raito and was involved in the death note scandal.