EPILOGUE

Thirteen years ago

"Lexi, what are you doing outside?" The old, gray haired man frowned. "It's -"

"You promised we're going out of town!" she cried out, although her eyes remained on the strange boy. His hand tightened around Quilish's and the grandfatherly man sighed.

"We have a new guest, Lexi," he said warmly, distracting her, "why don't you introduce yourself?"

But instead of saying her name, she shifted away from Quilish and faced the boy straight on. "Who are you?"

Her voice held no scold, just curiosity. He didn't respond and this time, it was Quilish that tightened his hand. He took a protective step in front of the boy whose hair was too long, and his eyes partially hidden behind it. In a childish manner, Lexi squatted down and twisted to peek up at his face with a wide-eyed, curious expression and all she could see was pale skin, and dark eyes and all he saw was a pair of pale gray eyes peering up at him excitedly. She leaned back.

"Does he talk?" she asked with that same young innocence. Some people at the Orphanage were mutes, and she would be sad if he were too.

"Yes, he does," Quilish sighed, "come, let's go inside." He walked past by him but as they crossed the gate, the tiny girl took the boy's other hand that had been curled up on his chest and - strangely enough - slipped her hand into his glove and then with a giggle, braided her fingers with his.

"I'm Lexi!" she said happily, as she tugged him forward and his hand slipped out of Quilish's. She pushed the door open with a grunt, one hand still with his, and then used her shoulder to push the door open. With a triumph sigh, she swung back around and gestured at the Orphanage wildly with one arm as if welcoming him into wonderland. She turned to him with eyes so bright, face animated and smile genuine that he looked up at her, his lips parting with mild surprise as he took in a deep breath. She let go of his hands, only to undo his scarf and pull his hood down. Her dainty, chubby hands were on his head, fingers through the mess of his hair as she got a better look at him.

And in a way so foreign to him, she looked pleased at what she saw.

"Don't worry about a thing, stranger! I'll take care you. You'll see."

xxx-xx-xxx

Present

"I – I swear, she just ran right in front of me and stopped!" A shaking voice. Sirens, everywhere. An ambulance and police at the scene. A car with the door swung open and yellow tape and pylons cutting off the flow of traffic. There was blood stained on the concrete, and two cars directly in the centre. One with a cracked window, the other a truck and black streaks stained the pavement.

And in the middle, a body in a bag.

Moments ago, a girl stopped on the moving traffic and like a doll, was thrown onto the car and tossed to the passing truck – smashed into the bumper and fell on the road ahead. Ran over. Backed up on, until finally truck skidded to a stop and the man jumped out to shake the limp girl before realizing that her body was mangled and no amount of yelling at her frantically would make those eyes open.

A crushed leg, an open head wound. An endless amount of blood.

And even though there were ambulances and nurses and EMTs, there was no point.

She was dead.

xxx-xx-xxx

Less than a mile away, a dark haired man fell out of his chair. It was a pain pulsing from his heart, and he felt it distorting every sense before he finally felt the pain of crashing onto the floor. It was cold. And falling hurt his shoulders - that was what he noticed, the little details. His eyes were wide, staring up onto a boy's. And at last, everything made sense and yet his last thought was a name, and a plea.

Ellie.

Not her too.

xxx-xx-xxx

The skies were an array of colour: yellow, orange, red, purple, gray with tinges of black. Five men, clad in black suits stood in front of a grave with solemn and saddened expressions. On the stone graves mounted a cross and an unidentified plaque, and next to it was an equally identical grave, but this one filled with flowers. Short words were spoken – short, but dedicated and passionate. They were, without a doubt, sincere. All but one. Even as the others left, the boy with pale brown hair remained. He stood in front of both graves, a Shinigami by his side.

He was silent, his expression hidden. And for a moment, Ryuk thought that he was simply lost in thought - he did not imagine a break down was going to wreak havoc to the peace and silence of the cemetery only seconds later.

A shudder went through his body and then a repressed sound until suddenly, all was broken and the laughter of a disturbed man echoed through the empty cemetery. He laughed and laughed, his back arched and his arm thrown out. "Now," his words - savage, Ryuk thought, "everything that was in my way is gone. And everyone else still believes in me." He collapsed onto his knees, a grin too wide on his face as his eyes consumed with greed and hunger for something he had already taken over as his fingers clawed into the dirt of the grave.

Ryuk stared. His expression in the twisted demon form was unable to reveal if it was amusement or disgust that he was feeling. .

"It's only a matter of time until I get rid of the police too." He lost all control, all the cover of the calm, cool Light Yagami as he proclaimed this, his voice strong. What the God of Death was seeing was yet another human, obsessed with death. Obsessed with Kira. And it intrigued him yet made him hate humanity all at once. "What do you think of that, L?" he shrieked manically at the dead man, his face wild and inhuman. "This is my perfect victory. That's right - I win."

After months and weeks, Light Yagami won. L was dead.

Watari was dead.

Elaine was dead.

And then his expression changed again. It was as if each line and etch of his face was shifting, transforming. In a second, the murderer disappeared and all Ryuk saw was the charming, young man with intelligence in his face and daggers in his eyes. Those pale brown eyes that seconds ago glowed crimson flickered onto the grave next to which he defiled warmed into the brown that had deceived others for so long. Brown eyes that made someone trusted him, believed him. Made him appear attractive and kind and passionate. Made others think he was human. There was no longer a smile, a smirk. Not even a frown.

But then his face twisted into a disgusted expression. "And you," he spat out and snarled, "Elaine." The name felt wrong coming from his mouth and he said the word like a profanity. "You died all on your own." His voice was no longer a madman's, but a bitter eighteen year old boy's. Calm and controlled.

He pulled himself up, brushed the dirt from his suit and regarded his filth encrusted nails with a cold, disinterested expression.

His mind railed back to the beginning. To the day he was appointed this role - the destiny of becoming a God. Who else but him could have pulled it off? No one. No one was smart enough, cunning enough, willing enough and able to sacrifice whatever it took to achieve the new world. It all began the day he picked up the Death Note, but there would be no end to his reign. Now there was nothing stopping him. No dessert-eating detectives that chained his wrist to him. No girls with bright gray eyes that pulled him into a false delusions.

He ignored the fact that it meant that now, his brain would no longer be challenged.

And now his heart, steadier.

He looked at the grave again. Elaine's. And then his eyes slid towards L's with a disdainful gleam. Something not quite like anger or envy but bitterness unfurled inside of him.

So be it. Let Elaine die because she was foolish enough to go against him. Or perhaps it was just her ill-fated destiny that she were to meet L before she met him. If Elaine had not been a part of the case, just another detective – he could have used her. He smiled at the idea of that. Of manipulating her and all her resources. But then he thought about the girl that was too comfortable around L. The way she touched the strange detective, and the way she smiled at him. The way they understood each other's minds and thoughts. Light could not imagine that intimacy – the familiarity – with anyone.

The smile faded.

"But I suppose it only makes sense for you to die together."

So brings the end of the story I wrote up on a whim because I needed a break from the Naruto fandom - who knew that a lot of people would read and like this too? :') So thank you everyone for sticking with me for the past twenty one chapters, and I hope that although it's not a happy ending, you'll be happy with the ending!

Parting words in the form of a review would be lovely :)

And once again, for the final and last time - thank you for reading!