This story was originally written by --Charon and Tirael under than profile '8'

Pairing(s): Sooner or later, LightxL… No like, no read. Simple as that. :) There may be other pairings as well…

Summary: Light Yagami is special. Not because of an exceptional IQ, either. It's because he can see dead people. Fortunately for him, there's a place for people like him. Welcome to Wythan Academy.

But this school is by no means a safe haven. In the surrounding mountains, a terrible evil is growing. Long buried in hallowed ground, bound by earth and silver, the master killer schemes and plots. Trapped in unlife, neither dead nor alive, Kira hungers for freedom and revenge.

His human tool is no other than Light, an avid pupil, eager to learn the dark secrets of life after death…

However, Light faces only one opponent: L Lawliet, a genius student with the unfortunate problem that everyone he touches will die. The cases that L has solved have earned him the title of a champion to both the dead and the living… And to protect L, the dead will do anything - even rise from their graves.

Warnings: Violence, language, yaoi, AU, necromancy, some random and blindingly fluffy romance, generally dark theme

Rating: T for now. May change in later chapters, depending on how explicit the violence gets… Most likely will stay at T, but we'll just have to wait and find out.

Disclaimer: Neither of us owns Death Note. We do, however, own our original characters and places, as well as our ideas. ;)

We apologize in advance for any spelling errors, or just general slip ups. Half of this was written at two am, and will be thoroughly edited later.

Now… On with the story.

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"As we grow as unique persons, we learn to respect the uniqueness of others." - Robert H. Schuller

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Light had always hated this time of day.

It was that transitional time between night and dawn, when everything seemed to be cast into a pale black and grey monochrome. The dark outlines of lofty pine trees stood out in stark contrast against the ashen sky. Black and white. Right and wrong. If only everything were so simple…

"For heaven's sake, Light, don't look so depressed," Sachiko sighed. "You need to make a good first impression.

Her son simply looked at her balefully, then went back to staring out the train window, though he would have much rather averted his eyes from the haunting dawn that was slowly creeping over the countryside. First impressions were never a problem. He'd mastered them - all people saw was a bright, charming young boy. It was when people got to know him that they didn't like him… When the found out about the his unfortunate predicament… and the fact that he--

"She's right, you know," chimed in a rough voice. Light glanced up briefly, eyeing the bulky, pale man sitting opposite him. "You have a very handsome face - it doesn't show when you frown like that."

"Light!" his father barked suddenly. "You're doing it again. Staring at nothing. I've told you, you'll have to ignore them if you ever want to be normal."

…When they found out that he saw dead people.

"It's a little difficult not to stare when they start talking to you," Light muttered grimly, looking out the window again. "And besides, it's rude."

"Light," his father warned.

He ignored him.

It wasn't as though he particularly wanted this. In fact, he would have done anything to be "normal". He didn't exactly have much control over it.

He'd been able to see them for as long as he could remember. When he was younger, his parents had dismissed his claims that there were people only he could see as 'imaginary friends'. Around the age of thirteen, they'd made him start seeing a consoler for his "problem". The therapist hadn't been able to make any progress whatsoever, as no matter what methods she tried, she found that Light was perfectly sane, except for the fact that he resolutely insisted that "they" were still there. He'd spent about two months in a rehabilitation center which was actually more like an asylum, until he decided that it would be better just to pretend his hallucinations weren't there than continue to be injected with medicine that wasn't really helping at all. Once home, he kept up appearances for as long as possible, but when of the apparitions began shouting in his ear until he acknowledged it, he'd given up. That was the point when his parents had begun to seek alternative therapy.

Apparently, that consisted of going to a school for "special" children like him.

Oh, grand.

Light wasn't sure what his IQ was, but he knew it was exceptionally high for a sixteen-year-old. And he didn't want to be surrounded by special people. It didn't look as though he had a choice, though, as even though he'd gone back to pretending they weren't there for a time, his parents weren't convinced. They still seemed to think he was entirely insane. Which Light was starting to agree with as well.

After all, he didn't want to believe that he was actually able to see dead people. One of them had told him the details of her death once, from which he'd drawn the conclusion that they were all ghosts. Or left over energy. Or whatever they were.

Yes, he'd much rather believe he was hallucinating.

And as much as he didn't want to attend his new special school, he knew logically that he needed help for these hallucinations if he ever hoped to live a normal life. And if this 'school' could help with that… then so be it.

The train began to slow, the trees alongside the window no longer fast moving blurs - now they were slow moving blurs. Sachiko began looking nervous, as if she didn't want to part with her son again so soon. Light couldn't really pretend to feel sympathetic. He was absolutely certain that he didn't want to leave more than she wanted him to stay.

They were at a halt now. The bulky man nodded understandingly. "This is your stop, huh?"

"Yes," Light replied aloud, smiling at the unhappy intake of breath from his father at this.

"Good luck," the ghost said cheerfully. "I'll be waiting to see you on the way back, if you don't mind. It's been so very long since I've had someone to talk to…"

"I wouldn't mind at all."

"Light!" Soichiro barked. "Stop it! You're upsetting your mother."

"Sorry," the ghost sighed. "I seem to have gotten you into trouble."

"Don't worry about it," Light went on, ignoring his parents. He extended his hand to the ghost. "Light Yagami."

The ghost eyed him for a moment, then shook his hand. It's grip was cool and soft, almost human but not quite. "Harvey Montgomery."

"Pleased to meet you… See you on the return journey, then."

At that moment, however, Soichiro grabbed hold of his son's arm and began hauling him off the train. Harvey waved balefully after him. "Best of luck, Light!"

"Thanks! You too!" he called back, grinning, even as he was unceremoniously shoved down the steps onto the platform.

And then, looming up before them was a huge dark building, rising against the mountains at its back, seeming to be carved out of the very cliff-side itself. The steep tiers of its towers stood out vividly against the sun-touched countryside, seeming to be the only thing in the vast land that was unexposed to the light… In fact, the whole building was located so that no matter the time of day, it was cast into perpetual shadow.

And before it was an old sign creaking in a slight, cold breeze: Welcome to Wythan Academy.

"Oh no," Light commented, and considered for a moment just doubling back and making a run for it. It didn't want to go to school in some sort of mansion castle thing - that was never good news. Ever book and movie he'd ever seen with a similar setting was bound to be full of terrors, or worse still, creepy teachers.

"Ah," called a friendly voice. "You must be Light."

He turned, dreading what he was about to see. A middle-aged woman with her tied back in a tight bun was making her way towards them, smiling gently.

"Ms. Crawford," she introduced, shaking his hand upon reaching them.

"Light Yagami," he sighed, looking away disinterestedly. How cliché. He was not going to like this at all, no sir… He'd made up his mind about that.

He waited patiently as his parents to finish their extended pleasantries, explaining his problem, and generally expressing their concern for their son's mental state. Ms. Crawford simply smiled and nodded, assuring them that Light would be looked after, and that she'd cured worse cases than this. After what seemed like an eternity and about twenty farewell hugs, Light's parents were back on the train.

The moment they were, Ms. Crawford turned to him, giving him an anxious look. "Are you alright, boy? They haven't beaten you, have they?"

"What? No!" Light stuttered, shocked that she would ask such a thing.

"Alright, just a question," she muttered. "I've found that some parents do. Think their kids are freaks, and maybe they can beat it out of them. Yours are exceptional, then."

Light blinked.

"What, are you surprised that we don't have you in butterfly nets yet?"

This was weird. "Yes," Light admitted hesitantly.

She scoffed. "Well, at least you're an honest one. Come along."

She set off at a brisk pace across the lawn, Light following behind her simply because he couldn't think of anything better to do.

"Erm… Ms. Crawford…"

"Please, call me Emily. I'm going to be calling you Light - I think it's only fair."

"Alright," he said quickly, scarcely realizing what he was agreeing to. "I'm not sure I understand - you're not treating me like I'm…" He paused. "Well, other people seem to respond differently."

"Let's clear something up," she panted. "You're not insane, and you're not hallucinating. I'm not going to give you some sort of medication, and I'm not going to put you in a straightjacket. This is a school, not an asylum."

Oh. So that was the tone they were taking. "You're not insane, you're special." Way to put things gently. Light hated being talked down to.

"Look, Ms… Emily," he said, fighting to keep his tone under control, "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I'd prefer you just skip the pleasantries. I'm hallucinating. I know it. I don't need to be coddled."

She stopped in her tracks, turned to him, and looked him straight in the eyes. "You're not hallucinating. You have a gift."

"I wouldn't classify seeing people who aren't there as a gift."

"They're most certainly there. You're just the only one who can see them." She took a deep breath. "You may not believe me just yet, but there are other people like you."

"Oh, so I'm not the only loony you've encountered?" Light returned sharply, not caring that whatever chance he'd had at a good first impression was blown all to hell.

"No," she went on patiently. "There are other people with similar gifts. Not the same, by any means - you're each unique."

Light bristled. "So I'm unique now?"

"Listen. To. What. I'm. Saying," she ground out. "You are not insane. In fact, I have a similar predicament. My gift… I know when people are lying."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Okay. I bet you do. So do I, and so does every--"

"No." She cut him off. "I mean, I know. I don't use clues like tone of voice or body language. I can feel if someone is lying. Much like you can feel that the people you see are dead."

"That's really…" He trailed off. "How did you know that they're dead?"

"Well, they're not hallucinations," Ms. Crawford sighed. "And they do feel different than normal people, don't they?"

Light gaped. "Yeah. Yeah, they do. How did…"

"It's always the same. Just a feeling. Just feeling that if you look at something a certain way, it'll catch on fire. Just a feeling that if you really concentrate, you can move something without touching it…"

They stared at each other.

"Now that I have your attention," Ms. Crawford went on with a thin smile. "Welcome to Wythan Academy."

"Ooh, new guy!" Mello whistled, leaning out the window to observe the chatting pair on the grass below. "I wonder what he can do… Ooh, handsome too - just right for you, Near."

"I'll kill you," Near pointed out grimly. The small, white-haired boy was sprawled out on the carpet, playing with a set of toy soldiers. Each of the tiny figurines was marching in their perfectly arranged line. They came to an abrupt halt, readying their weapons. With only a blink as a signal from Near, they began firing noisily at their opposing forces.

Little toy soldiers with little toy guns,

All formed in rank and file;

Many a battle they fought and won

For the shine of a little boy's smile

"Hmm," Mello sighed, acknowledging that this was a good enough reason to stop teasing. "I wonder… Maybe I'll just pop down there for a bit… see what they're talking about…"

"Don't," Matt ordered darkly.

"You're right. I'll just do my stalker-stare out the window. No problem there," Mello growled.

Matt looked up from the video game he was playing, amused. "So passive aggressive, Mello," he chided, and, with a leisurely snap of his fingers, sent a tiny spark of fire flying across the room at the unsuspecting blonde.

"Owe!" Mello whined, rubbing his blistered arm. "I've told you to stop that!"

"Ooh, burned," Near commented from his position on the floor.

"And I've told you to stop being so passive aggressive," Matt replied cheerfully.

Grumbling to himself, Mello turned away again, eying the new arrival on the grass. "Poor kid. Probably scared witless, if he thinks this is a reform school like I did. Very good-looking, though. Chestnut hair catching in the wind, amber eyes flashing…" He struck a dramatic pose and went on, "But soft! What light through yonder window window breaks..."

Near glanced up at him for a moment. "Mello, if I wanted to know, I'd come look myself."

"I like him," Mello went on resolutely, his mind apparently made up. "I wonder what his name is. Wonder what he can do. Hope it's something cool. Like mind-reading. Then again, do we really want to have a mind-reader around?"

"Not with the way you think," Matt commented.

"True. Though that would make hooking up easier… Wouldn't have to have that awkward "I have feelings for you" talk. They'd already know… Then, the drawback is that you could never cheat on them… Tricky…"

Near drew the toy soldiers to a halt, annoyed. "Mello, take it easy. You haven't even met the kid, and you're already planning your future together."

"Just hypothetically," Mello assured airily. "Besides, he's not my type anyway."

"You're going to keep bugging us until we let you go down there, aren't you?"

Mello blinked innocently as he began unwrapping a chocolate bar. "Why would I do a silly thing like that?"

"The answer is still no."

"Damn it." He took a loud, angry bite out of his chocolate. "Just because you two aren't exactly social butterflies doesn't mean that I can't still have other friends!"

No one even bothered replying. Mello grumbled something under his breath and went back to staring out the window. "Beautiful, really… In a strange way, though. He looks different than anyone I've ever seen. Maybe it's that strangeness that makes him so appealing…"

"Mello," Matt warned, holding his fingers ready to snap.

Mello made a disgusted noise. "Forget it. You guys never do anything fun."

"I do believe it's called 'apathy'," Near supplied. "And we're having plenty of fun. You're the one who needs to find a hobby."

"I have a hobby."

"Chocolate isn't a hobby."

"That depends on who you ask."

"So… What you're saying is… These sort of abnormalities are…"

"Not so abnormal at all," Ms. Crawford finished wearily. "Still much less than one percent of the population, but that's just from what we know. There are likely many more cases that are still undiscovered."

Light was silent for a moment, considering this. "So what's the point of this school, anyway? Research?"

She scoffed. "We'd never conduct research on a living being. You're not test subjects, you're students… Mainly the academy was designed to get children away from parents who couldn't possibly understand their gifts. Often, in those scenarios, the parents would become abusive, as I've already told you. In addition, we're try to teach our students how to control their gifts so that they can eventually live normal lives, without loosing their gifts." She paused. "It's difficult, trying to control them, but after a few years… Well, it's like flipping a switch. Of course, that's not the only thing we teach - we still attend to math, science, the arts. Normal things."

Light eyed her evenly. Either she was as insane as he was… or… Maybe there was hope.

"You may need some time to adjust," Ms. Crawford continued, looking at him as though gauging his reaction. "Some gifts are rather… shocking… But you get used to them…"

"I don't think I really have much of choice about that." He sighed heavily. "If you can teach me how to control this… gift, as you say… then I'm in. I'd give anything to be normal."

"Don't go putting yourself down like that," she grumbled, putting a hand on her new student's shoulder. "Come. Let's go inside."

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