Death Note: The Kira Game {Story}

This is a story I began writing last year. I got through about four chapters of it, and made notes on almost every event in the full-sized novel tale, but never got around to going any further. I suppose my other works got in the way, not to mention the fact I only ever had one person who would read it. Now that I have gotten into the swing of DNO, I'm starting to wonder if I should remedy this and continue?
This is the first chapter, and I hope people can give me an opinion on whether or not to waste my time on it.
The concept is simple really: What if Ryuk had dropped the book somewhere else? Well it is my belief that the characters of the series were so key to their roles in the world they would all have come into contact whether it was Light to collect the note or not. I don't much like to spoil things, but after the first Arch (of about five o.o; ) L actually gets the Death Note and is very gradually corrupted into using it to save his own life. Due to the change in storyline, you can expect to see characters like Beyond Birthday who were killed off in the original during Kira's early stages. I rant on too much...just, give me an opinion, if you would. Even if it's just on reading the first paragraph.
I want to continue, but it would take a lot of time and effort I can't afford to waste on a project that isn't worth it...

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Chapter One


The world of the Death Gods is a dying one. There isn’t a space for a foot to step that hasn’t withered, not a plant that hasn’t long since choked from the rancid toxin that is the air, no place for the eyes to wander that wasn’t desolated beyond rebirth.
The Death Gods world is a dying one, and while those who inhabit it are not dying, neither do they have a life to live.
“This world is rotting.” The lips of a corpse many a thousand years young broke a long silence they had held for several, immeasurable nights. The Death God known as Ryuk was perched on a curdled rock that overlooked a great distance into the seemingly endless land of the dead. Blank staring yellow eyes, proportioned at angles mutated from that of any human, had watched over that same segment of this hell for a great space of time. These rare words trapped the attention of another pair of unearthly creatures that were crouched in the dust and dirt. These two beasts were brethren in death, yet another couple of Godly demons with nothing better to do with their limitless time than sleep in the filth and gamble away the worthless bones and rotting sticks that lay scattered throughout their homely wasteland. The smaller of the two idle creatures cracked its ancient neck away from the roughly carved bowl settled firmly in the dirt. Inside the chipped pottery two decayed skulls, unlike those of any known animal, lay toppled on their sides; the burlier of the beasts had won the pot, however few Death Gods ever played by any recognised rules, so it was very difficult for any gamblers to recognise whether they had won or lost. Not that it meant anything in a world with nothing worth winning and nothing to fear losing.
“Hey, Ryuk, how bout hanging with us for a change?” A Death God easily distinguishable from Ryuk, the skull of this monster seemed disproportionate, that of a sizable crocodile like beast, that seemed if anything to be a part of the Gods physical body, clicked its rustic jaw as it addressed the lone reaper.
The Death God known as Ryuk didn’t so much as divert his attention from the landscape, the depth of his thought windowed by the unblinking stare. Ryuk bore no animalistic similarities; however even with his slight human resemblance there were certain grotesque features that made him quite a terrifying sight to behold: beyond the grim stare of the perfectly rounded zombie eyes, sharp and yellow, the mouth of the beast was something equally as unsightly. Though his mouth itself was no larger than that of an equivalent sized human the corners of his mouth were curved rigidly into a haunting smile, and his mouth hung open like that of a ghoul without a single breath passing through the colourless etched lips.
“I’ll pass.” The thoughtless echo of these two words were the only thing to cause any stir on the creatures facial expression; What should have been his face however appeared similar to that of a long deceased cadaver, and was attached to his chest by grisly stitches close to the base of his neck; this lighter toned skin appeared something similar to a mask fashioned from a human face- however the light blue skin tone suggested if this was not in fact Ryuks’ natural flesh it was not taken by anything mortal.
The only response was a slight chuckle from Ryuk’s unwelcome company, followed by the rattle of bone chips into the gamblers bowl as they began a new round.
“So typical of you Ryuk,” The first of the bored gaming Gods shook the fleshless skull on his head as the second, this one resembling something more of a mythical horse demon, picked two skulls and a rock from the bowl, “why not try acting like a Death God for a change?”
This statement caught the lone Ryuk’s attention though he deliberately made a show of seeming just as uninterested.
“Since when did a Death God lounge around and gamble away their lives on futile games?” Ryuk couldn’t help bearing a slight smirk despite himself.
“You have to stay with the times- This is what a Death God is.” Was the only argument; Ryuk hadn’t expected any more from such lazy reapers. With his eyes undeterred from the desolate plains surrounding them, Ryuk was beginning to understand the true extent that the presence of death had within the worlds of such Gods. It was bad enough in the world of the Shinigami that the earth itself was spoiling, dying away, but now so were those trying to exist within it.
“This world…is rotting.”

“Slowly but surely…it’s rotting…” The mumbled tone was swept off by the building winds as the words of a young man were drowned out by the rain. Ryu Kuro stood motionless, his head turned up into the path of the downpour. Fine champagne coloured hair, usually framed around chin length in a dynamic cut, clung effortlessly to the side of his face, seemingly losing its usual creamy golden tinge.
The words reflected his thoughts, glaring into the heavens he had not expected them to fall onto any ears- after all, there were very few people prone to seeking safe haven on a University rooftop, let alone in such a relentless rain. Casting down his sight Ryu faced the pool of rainwater parading around his leather shoes, his olive grey university uniform weighed down greatly by the water and his fringe drooping as low as his nose with a steady stream dripping from his sharp chin. “So are the people in it…”
His blazer had long since soaked into a deep, murky grit tone and the skies overhead were not so indifferent, there seemed to be little colour in anything anymore; even the dense woodlands framing the vast grounds seemed monotone.
In a blank stride Ryu had made his way to the wide edge of the building, looking down from the rooftop one would marvel at the complex mosaic that was the primary front courtyard. Standing at this ledge even Ryu, who had been attending at the university a good few months already, could not identify so much as the ground through the rain.
Casting his head once more to the heavens the fair haired young man brushed aside the pestilent drops hanging from his cheek and pushed his creamy silver locks into place as a slight flicker through the mists caught in his steel blue eyes. A flicker, then a flutter, the sound of rattling pages lost against the rhythm of the rainfall. There, snagged against the ledge of an English University rooftop in a prolonged downpour, a black bounded book shuddered, with pages flicking in persistent winds.
To find something as common as a book on school grounds could hardly be considered unusual, and yet even to find it in such a place that pupils would rarely tread- a discarded notebook would never draw much attention. This time however, it was Ryu who had come across it, and Ryu Kuro was never one to overlook detail- he had often believed himself to be sharper, more focused, than any of the other students that attended at his university. This though, was seen as more an ego than genius.
Not only was his inquisitive nature tempting him justly, the mere presence of the forgotten book seemed to be calling, not just out to him, but to anyone. The notebook was caught against the ledge, trapped in waves of rain, and as strange as it seemed, it was as though the notebook was searching out for someone, anyone, to find it.
“Sometimes I worry for my sanity.” Kuro thought to himself, such strange speculations on a misplaced notebook. Raising his hand to scratch an irritation above his left ear Ryu realised the spot stung quite savagely on contact, lowering his hand once more he noticed blood washing off his fingers and running down across his hand.
Ryu’s vacant expression backfired, his brow contorted and the slender white eyebrows speared down into a mirthless scowl; even his eyes seemed to fracture a shade further into stone as a few animalistic fangs perked through the corner of his mouth. With a less than valiant outcry Kuro clenched an object he had kept cradled in his right hand, gripping the side of his head with the other hand he made action as though to throw the trinket off the edge of the building- however before he was able to hurl the object his hand slowed, his frown softened, and even his body limped slightly. The usually proud young man appeared rather pathetic, surrendering to his own senses as he weakened his rage in a heavy downpour with only the grey cloak of a dreary world consuming all that surrounded him. Ryu’s arms dropped to his sides, he squeezed the object in his hand while the blood from a sharp wound above his ear mingled like dye with his colourless sodden hair. In his still tightened fist, glimmering even in such misery through the gaps in his slender fingers, a silver pendant, portraying in the shape of a gloriously decaled heart.

(Continued on next post...)

It had been no sooner than that very morning when the University doors were opened, or in the case of Ryu Kuro that afternoon while everyone else was out on lunch, that the final steps began, the last pieces moved into place, and the end had begun.
No sooner had the clock in the main hall chimed to one than a rather drenched, silver cream haired young man backed in through the wide double doors, forcing them open while holding his book bag, which was considerably lighter than most students, above his head to keep the rain from soiling his carefully sculpted hairstyle. With his feet trailing puddles across the broad oak flooring of the lower halls Ryu made his way to the east staircase, a great set of expensive oak stairs that curved up in great arcs on either side of the hall, taking its worthwhile students up into the higher levels and leading to the upper corridors. Checking his hair on the way up the stairs in one of the large arching windows positioned on either side of the hall Kuro found it satisfactory; however with his eyes diverted he hadn’t noticed an incoming obstacle soaring down the great staircase in his direction- the sound of racing heels should have tipped him off.
“Kuro-Chan!” This was a much a warning as the unsuspecting teenager received before having his left shoulder embraced and almost toppling side on back down to the lower floors. This was not a greeting Ryu was unfamiliar with, but when you enter such a high standing university, a good number of hours behind any appropriate ‘late’ time, nerves tend to be somewhat on edge- Kuro however was not unaccustomed to these warnings, but being hugged without prior notice was still rather surprising.
“Damn Suka, next time grant me a warning!” Turning his back to the window he raised a snide smile and pushed back a few loose hairs from across his forehead, “and watch the hair.” He added, receiving a broad smile from the young lady latched upon his shoulder.
Suka Magaru. To Ryu she was the girl next door, and had been for the past three years or so, and no matter what had become of Ryu he always found he was able to count on her to stick with him; regardless of his usual barrier towards these people, he had at least found someone worth keeping in company.
“Oh come on, you look so cute with morning hair Kuro-Chan.” With this the fair girl swept a hand through his hair and brushed it through her fingers, rustling his perfectly modelled hairstyle for the day. Considering students in England rarely referred to one another using Japanese titles such as ‘Chan’ it was a common ground shared only by Suka and himself, both having transferred there- but Suka having arrived a year ahead of him, albeit through entirely different circumstances. “I’ve never known a guy to work so hard on his hair!” From anyone else such a claim could be considered insulting to the male ego, regardless of how true, but Ryu was willing to let it slide.
“I have to keep up appearances after all.” Giving Suka a warm smile only she was familiar with the self-righteous student pushed back his mane into a rather outrageous style and gave his companion a thumbs up, summoning a few giggles from her before they began ascending the stairs to the higher hall. The conversation between the two often revolved in its usual loop: the news of the day, the events before school, Ryu’s plan to smuggle his way into lessons without being noticed- today however there was more to discuss, as Suka had only the previous night returned from a weekend vacation to see her family home in Saitama, in the Kanto region of Japan.
Ryu could see the trip had done her much good, lately Suka had been dragging about with no presence of her usual spring, which was something that Ryu had come to love in her. Even her eyes showed burden, but when he glanced onto them now the familiar shimmer had returned to her bright chocolate eyes.
“Haven’t seen them in a while, have you?” Ryu was aware the last two scheduled visits had been cancelled due to family issues on her parent’s end, so he was relieved she was able to make the trip this time.
“It has been a long time, but that made the trip all the better, I suppose.” The entire time she was speaking Suka had been rummaging through her bag, the most essential piece of equipment that she carried on her regardless of occasion, and it was no real mystery to her arrogant chum as to why.
“Please tell me you didn’t bring me a present.” This was merely an empty request, Suka had always brought something back for him whenever she went anywhere- it was all part of being best friends with someone who couldn’t keep their grip on money.
“Aren’t we full of ourselves?” She stuck her tongue out at him, retrieving a palm sized black box from her bag. By now they had been loitering at the height of the staircase longer than usual, but the earlier Kuro tried to make it into class the more likely he would be noticed and have to endure the usual barrage of warnings and accusations.
“I knew you loved me.” Ryu chuckled. The gift was decorated with a clean white ribbon that wrapped around the box, black and white- very suitable in its own way.
The ribbon was rich snow colour; no doubt Suka had chosen this accessory while thinking of Ryu’s uncommon hair colour. Ryu however saw something greater in the contrast. His relationship with his closest friend had been very much black and white for a small yet influential period of time.
“Let me guess, it’s a Ferrari.” The young mans common sarcastic tone Suka gave a cheeky grin as Ryu slipped off the ribbon and brushed his fingers across the textured box, there wasn’t much anyone could buy for a person like Ryu Kuro, so his curiosity was more or less peaked at this point. “Thanks hun.” He added with a light grin.
Drawing back the sliding lid of the simple box Ryu became unsure exactly how to react, within its black as midnight holster, nestled over a crinkled blanket of soft white velvet, a beautiful heart of pure silver on a white golden chain. Such an extravagant gesture he hadn’t been expecting- and after a moment Ryu realised he was standing dumb, Suka was tilting her head slightly with a smirk trying to mine out the surprise in his face, her light hazel hair dropping to one side from its usual shoulder length. Despite being but a few inches shorter than him she seemed to find it cute to lean in, looking up at the luxurious haired teen with a predictable giggle. Her expression was amused to say the least; she took pride on the rare occasions she managed to leave Kuro without words.
“Don’t read too much into it Kuro-Chan,” Suka gave Ryu a sly poke on the nose, “I’ve had that since I was like, six years old.” This didn’t do much to explain the expensive gift. Ryu lifted the pendant in his fingers carefully and watched the feeble light from the grand windows reflect off the shined silver- clearly the treasure had been recently cleaned before he received it. Casting up a perplexed stare Suka smiled and fixed the collar of his shirt, he hadn’t even noticed it was askew.
“You’re giving me this?” It had to be said, even for someone with such warm-hearted reputation, such a sentimental gift took Ryu by surprise. Realising his stupefied expression was giving him away Ryu abruptly regained his usual cocky posture, lifting the shimmering pendant before his eyes- A glorious gift, such an unexpected gesture.
“I’d forgotten all about it, to be honest I don’t even remember who gave it to me, but when I found it in my old room…I guess it reminded me of you.”

The corners of Ryu’s mouth perked up into a smirk. A few teeth, pearl and sharp, glint out from the involuntary smile. It was strange, the last thing Ryu felt like doing was smiling- and yet it came. He was not smiling over the memory of Suka’s kind words; his grin was of something more malice, as well as the sickening sensation in his stomach. For her to say such a thing in their situation was inappropriate, even insulting. Ryu allowed his fingers to stride up along his neck, a trail of blood running across his hand. Holding this hand before him he let the rain wash it away. If only the rain could wash it all away.

Outside the library doors, among the vintage styled corridors of the proud school, Ryu couldn’t help think that the antique look of the great oak floors and high ceilings would have been pretty cool…if only it was on purpose instead of just being old.
“Welcome back to the eighteen hundreds love.” Suka already had her hand on the rustic door and gave Ryu a brief smile, in truth she hadn’t exactly been dreading coming back here. At least in school she was safe, and she had Ryu for company, he wasn’t nearly as he seemed- you just had to get past that thick skull and pampered hair.
“Thanks, remember your gonna be meeting me outside the hall when we leave, and then we’re gonna go for coffee.” Quick thumbs up told her the message was clear. Ryu knew he only had a fifteen minute period to make it to the other side of the university and perform a surreptitious entrance as to avoid the usual onslaught ; of course in a University attendance wasn’t always mandatory but when you’ve missed as much of a course as Kuro, it doesn’t go unnoticed.
As the door closed behind Suka Ryu found himself appreciating his present silently, letting the gentle silver glint in his palm, at the time he thought something this valuable was a very meaningful present indeed. Perhaps Suka was trying to tell him something.
Observing his gift in silence it didn’t take much for a foreign noise to catch his attention; after averting his vision down the elderly halls Ryu saw nothing. Discarding the noise as part of his suspected paranoia Ryu carefully latched the alluring chain around his fair neck and adjusted the heart now pinned between his shirt and his chest. With his new treasure secured there was little reason to hang around now, not that he was too keen on going anywhere, but that’s life. The University’s greater library was on the lower floor, the one close by was the secondary library room which was on the second floor, which was plastered with so many splintered doors and rickety staircases it was hard to tell if you were going forward, behind or back in time. Luckily Kuro had made enough last minute fall-ins to know his way around without being pointed out, namely avoiding the main corridor on the third floor after the final break was over, if he got caught up in that traffic he’d never get anywhere let alone getting there late, of course there was always an alternate route, you’d just need the common sense to use it. In this case that alternate route was a turning corridor on the west side of the building, had the classrooms in that wing still been in use there would likely be more people making use of it- but considering it was about three times the walk it wasn’t too popular. Ryu would still rather go for a walk in a peaceful corridor than try to herd in through the crowds.
A gentle push and the fractured door was open, despite this the vibe wasn’t particularly inviting; a scarcely lit walkway rather high up the building with windows facing out on the west side that did little more than allow a candle of sunlight. It was hard to miss the attempt of rehabilitation, there was a fair share of paints, varnishes and the occasional stepladder tucked into the corners and into the shadows, there was even an ill-treated caretakers closet further on down the line with the door hanging open, the only door along that corridor that was not locked in fact. One would think after so many months more effort would have been put in to making this wing operational again.
It hadn’t taken long for Ryu to pass through the first straight, gracefully illuminated by the intruding sunlight from the outside, and that was when he reached the first firm turn in the corridor, at which point the path went from facing north to directly east. No more than a few paces were all it took, then that phantom noise. This time it was more obvious, the door at the mouth of the corridor had been carefully closed, though the aftermath of engaging footsteps wasn’t nearly as well covered. Where Kuro stood now there were no windows, there was no sunlight despite that which managed to creep around that bend after him. Halting his own pace Ryu stood his ground, turned back, and waited.
No more than a minute passed, as the steps drew closer they also came slower. As soon as they came to that corner, they stopped completely. Obviously they had been listening to Kuro’s movements too.

(Continued in next post...)

“It has nothing to do with you.” It was Ryu who broke the waiting silence. Clearly the casually stern young man had no desire to wait in the dark, and it was also clear that he had a very good idea who it was that had been following him ever since he made it into the grand hall; while he had not mentioned it at the time, he’d already been suspecting.
“Yeah, right.” The last few taps of thick leather against the bare stone floors and the phantom was standing in a shroud of withering light no more than half a dozen yards before Ryu, still the present glint of those teeth still gave away his smirk. The semi-silhouetted character was taller than Ryu, though not by much, however he was somewhat broader in the shoulders and menacing in his smile. There was a distinct silence between the two that lasted little more than a moment, yet it spoke enough between the two; the figure was there for Ryu, and Ryu had no intention of turning away. It was when Kuro shifted his collar that he was addressed again, in doing so covering the slither of white gold that was no double reflecting brightly what little light he was faced with. “You seemed pretty eager to see her again.”
Ryu was decidedly calm at this point, onlookers might wonder as to the relationship between these two students, however in Ryu’s mind there was no connection at all between them, and any that may arise were best severed immediately, or at least, that’s how he would have liked it. That said, Kuro did still not retreat.
“Actually, she was waiting for me. If you were so keen on seeing her first, why exactly were you following me the whole time?” The question went unanswered. This was not a problem; it was very clear to them both what the situation was, as it had been for quite some time now, yet Kuro wouldn’t accept this as an excuse to go unheeded. “Kane?”
As though working on cue the opposing student shifted partially to one side, allowing the thin passing sun to bring his full features to light. This may well have been his intention though, to show Kuro that the shadowed smirk was gone. Kane Worth, while he and Ryu Kuro stood before the other bearing the same uniform Ryu refused to believe there was anything alike between them.
“She gave you something, didn’t she?” The cheerfully curling chestnut brown hair deceived his voice, which was feigning a formal tone despite holding a great weight of spite in its words. At this Ryu gave a slight grunt, turning his back and continuing his stride. This only rekindled the shadowy Kane’s sick smile. “Don’t be so modest Ryu. I can see the bloody thing around your pasty neck.”
Had Ryu Kuro known where this meeting would lead, he would have just kept walking. In fact, had he known where the situation would lead, Kane may never have walked out of that corridor. A few clicks of the heel and Ryu could almost feel the tempered breath on his neck, but even staring off into the distance where sunlight did not reach, he knew he wouldn’t be going anywhere until this was over. Kane made a sudden reach for Ryu’s neck, catching his olive jacket collar firmly and jerking Ryu Kuro back before he even realised the situation, this was unexpected even of Kane. Managing to place back his foot and keep his stance Ryu twisted round, making a literal stab in the dark as his clenched fist made for its smug mark. Was there ever a thing Kuro wished he was capable of, it would be such physical encounters- despite owning strength that was masked by his figure he lacked the will to fight, not a handicap shared by his opponent. When the assault struck, and Kane involuntarily cast his head aside and his vision to the chalked and shadowed walls, it took a few seconds for Kuro to overcome the beast instinct that inspired it. When Kane motioned his neck back with a cringing click Kuro was caught off guard by the rare dangerous spark that fired behind seemingly innocent bright emerald eyes, the grimacing scowl and bared teeth were unmistakable even in the sub-light. As was the unforeseen jolt as Kane’s right leg tackling his stance, Kane’s scruffy jacket flying up as his crouching kick knocked Kuro both off guard and off balance.
That was when he snagged. As though caught in mid-fall with his feet barely touching the ground and his back practically laying flat on the air. He could feel the ridged metal digging into his neck, his silver heard yanked from his chest and caught between the bastard’s fingers, suspending him in the air.
“It’s a fine gesture Kuro, no doubt about that.” His voice was calm, which was more worrying than the assault. Ryu immediately made to regain his step, lording himself back up from his vulnerable pose. Cutting Kuro short the green eyed punk gave the silver pendant a forceful tug, something snapped around Ryu’s neck and the delicate chain shot past his ears. With a sudden violent push with his opposite hand Kane once again stole Ryu’s balance and he was down. It was shameful indeed, but there were a terrible few who would stand against this well known devil- Ryu Kuro was one of them, yet whenever he stood he was destined to fall.
“Indeed it is, Worth.” It may have been dark in the discarded segment of the second floor, however as Kuro took his time in finding his feet no width of shadow could hide the tired scowl on Kane Worth’s brow, and yet, there was something of a delight to it, as though he had finally become tired of the games. Once the two conflicting adversaries were standing before one another yet again, Ryu raised his hand to his chest, stroking across the front of his jacket with an inner cringe- already the beautiful treasure was out of his hands and in the hold of someone who’s very soul was worth much less than the silver it was forged from. With a gentle chuckle the darker haired student strolled forward.
“You seem rather fond of this little trinket.” Kuro didn’t trust the sudden sincerity in the other young mans voice, even his involuntary fidgeting of the fingers gave him away, though this could have been a figment of Ryu’s paranoid imagination. “Can’t say I blame you, I really can’t. After all it is a farewell gift from the woman you loved!” Kane Worth emphasised these last words by taking a hold of that sturdy chain, allowing the slightest shimmer of the lurching sunlight to catch his face and illuminate a spark of his emerald green eyes as the jagged edged pendant swung out from the reach of shadows and collided with a sickening sound into the left side of Ryu Kuro’s head. His shoulder shunned into the wall besides him, his knee scraping against the bare floors, and Kuro was once again down. Kneeling with both hands clasped onto the side of his head and bearing the bitter sting of defeat, along with the stabbing agony of an intricate and not to mention sharp rim of a solid silver pendant jutting from the side of his head.
“It’s a real pretty gift, Kuro,” There was no mistaking the spite this time, it almost seemed to radiate across the hallway and illuminate every detail of Ryu’s blooded humiliation, “I’d get it cleaned up if I were you.” And with that, Kane dusted off his hands and gave a final gesture of his respect to the noble Kuro, for Kane this came in the form of a booting to the ribs that left the fair haired young man in an undignified huddle, clutching to the rough white washed path with his head hung low and his arm slung aside his blooded skull. The sound of thick leather heels rapped with cautious pause past the now silenced hall, merely the hallowed breath of a stunned Ryu the only thing between them to show of what had transpired. With a relaxed expression but holding that weight of utter respite, Kane grazed his rough fingers along the tomb-like walls. Had there been enough illumination for Ryu to glance his own hand he may have seen the trail of blood he now felt glazing his slender fingers. The echo of his rattled grunt and sodden palm pushing off from the ground drew back an averted green eye, patiently watching, as Ryu Kuro lost whatever self-concern he held. Taking past that short space between them in shooting strides, launching a raised fist from past his shoulder, this time it was Ryu to sign the strike. This time was his to rise in anger- Then to inevitably fall.

Write more! This is getting quite exciting.

u havnt got all day to read all of that but i will.

Like I said, I've done four chapters as of so-far. The first Arc is mainly about how the Death Note can ruin a persons life, even if they don't go quite as mental as Light with it...well, I say that, but...
Anyway, I may just post the rest that I've done here if you want to see it. I realise it's a lot to read but I suspect that, since the four chapters would span 65 novel-size pages according to Word, the whole story would extend to a large sized novel. I'm practically incapable of writing short stories >_>;

well once it is all finished i will read it all but i do not have very long time on byond so..

I call that Short Story Syndrome, otherwise Tripple S. I have the same thing ._.

Chapter Two

A trail of blood now ran down past Ryu’s left ear, merging with the rain and falling to the ground around his feet. Kuro stood fixed in place, reflecting all these events through his mind as though they were happening for the first time. The dismal weather had failed to let up, his rich olive jacket was now a heavy slate in colour, he matched almost inconspicuously with his surrounding of concrete and dim tile. The chain slipped from his hand, sliding past his fingers which made no attempt to latch it, until the pendant fell besides his shoe in a sadistic pool of rainwater and faded red. Breaking his stare into some distant fog Ryu showed sign he was finally free from his dream, his gaze seeping lower until he witnessed the pallid roof of the great complex below him; Ryu had not given attention to his wound, having been supporting a greater injury to his own mind, eventually though he accepted that the flesh wound may be something worth paying some attention to, the ebbing flow of vital fluid had lingered into the puddles of downpour around him to the extent he could watch their trails. The blood mingled and flowed in with the rain, seeming to pass over small drier gaps between damp patches. It was here that something unexpected came to place- the blood trail seemed to part itself from the rain, running across the roofing in a steady flow, its path not altered by the rain, until it touched the black cover of that daunting book. Ryu flicked his collar, perking the tips up to the side of his face like some waterlogged Dracula, and watching with relative interest as his blood circulated around the edges of the shambled volume. From somewhere beyond the fog that resided solely around Kuro’s person a warning thunder seemed to roll literally overhead, passing behind concealing dark clouds that released such taunting downpour. Despite the forbidding scene around him, Ryu disregarded everything. Passing in his recovering casual stride the man with dented pride lorded over that simple black notebook- had he perhaps looked closer, he would have seen his own blood pulsing around it, drummed by a phantom heartbeat that trembled against the sprawled pages, even as Kuro’s blooded fingers liberated the simple note from the rain.
Tucking the suspicious notebook under his jacket arm Ryu swayed his sight across the horizon. Nothing but fog the likes of white smoke that shrouded the distance, covered further by the persistent shower that made all but that seemingly insignificant scene unknown to Ryu’s world. The sleek metal door that led back into the building sounded a rhythm as the raindrops drummed; Ryu, his left arm pressed up against his chest, placed a pallid hand onto its drizzled silver handle and turned.
The door remained closed.
“Locked.” Kuro spoke a wisp of rising fog; his face did not reflect any frustration that would likely have been coursing through his mind at the time. Nobody had even checked that there was anyone out on the rooftop, but then why would they in such a downpour? There was only a slight cover from the forces of nature below the doorframe, Ryu wasn’t even waded by this and returned into the calling of the outside. The clouds had taken on an almost violet hue, the already trenched teenager stood with his head to the heavens. Then, momentarily distracted by a wandering thought, placed a few fingers to his skull and examined them- most of the bleeding had stopped at least, though he would no doubt be left with a scar. Opening the side of his jacket Ryu slid out the broad paged black notebook and, considering the condition he had found the book, examined it under the wrath of god, standing in the heart of rainfall. Had Ryu not already held suspicion to this note, the rather bemusing cover would have made for startling first impression.

Death Note

Holding the black labelled volume in one hand Ryu sneered at the imposing white text, written in some undefined font against a plain dark cover. The notebook itself had already roused his interest, however even as he held it, to his touch, there was something odd about it that his mind was too centred to immediately realise.
“Such an optimistic title.” Despite being alone Kuro could never suppress his usually pessimistic views, even if it meant water running past his teeth like the gargoyles that watched over the University, otherworldly demon sentries. Flipping past that forbidding cover Ryu removed the bowing fringe of intruding hair, running his focused eyes over the inner pages- also black, scattered with odd symbols and scrawled writing. The purposeful skull heading the page made Kuro scoff under his breath, some kind of gothic journal was his first instinct of this melodramatic book. Immediately Ryu was prepared to toss the stereotypical notepad aside, however now that his brain was more focused, less distracted, when he made to close its pages Ryu noticed that missing factor which would seal his curiosity in these outlandish pages- there wasn’t a speck of rain coating it. Kuro ran his fingers across its surface, absolutely dry.
“That’s unusual…” He mouthed, or perhaps he whispered but the wind drowned him out, even Ryu couldn’t tell. None the less with the notebook still creaked open the ghostly white texts drew him in, momentarily stealing him from that place as he entered a world somewhere beyond his own.

The human whose name is written in this note shall die.

Before he even passed his eyes to the rest of the book Ryu’s blooded hand past his jacket to the water loaded pocket- momentarily Kuro lost himself in his actions, before his heavy mind caught up to him. What was he considering? Play into some twisted game. Clearly someone else had been in such a position and discarded the worthless book, did this mean he was below such people?
No, never. Ryu’s inner monologue caused his hand to withdraw, scratching blood against the dim green to grey pocket lining. This is some sick child’s play-thing.
A book claiming murderous powers, a medium through which people could pass on their deepest hatred and share the names of those they wish to rot with the other demented individuals- no doubt some laughs had been shared over fools who confide in this lowly volume. Through sheer curiosity, Ryu flicked past the rest of the black pages onto the simple notebook pages. Not a single word. The misty eyed young man pressed his fingers to the pages, not even damp, despite the fact it was still raining heavily- what was this book exactly? Whatever it was, Ryu couldn’t help but give an arch grin at the supernatural appeal of the virgin tome.
“May God himself confide in this book, and read my will.” Before his words were through Ryu had seized from his inconspicuous jacket a very unique pen. Even in the shade of a clouded barrack the instrument glinted- a sleek rich purple body leading to black as it reached to the tip, which formed a brilliant silver skull, the fangs of which formed the menacing sharp tip of the pen itself. Such an out of the way tool said nothing of hypocrisy from Kuro towards the strange notebook. With a skilled tackle of the pen Kuro scratched into the grained white paper the mark of his despair and disgust. The ink would not run or trail the book like a black tear, even with the assault of the rain threatening its presence over the page, the ink dried its carving immediately to the paper.
Still with the brooding luxury pen with, a tip like a blade, drawn at his side the commonly beautiful young man made a low death march forward- to what contract had he signed into? Even without the chains of the supernatural the mere ink of his pen may well be blood for tracing the name back to him, and what then? A jab to his foot signified he’d reached the end of the path, finally wrenching away from the parchment Kuro looked onto a sight far grander yet far less impacting than the name upon the page. Even in spite of the lengthy woodlands surrounding the campus the misted depths running down the side of the building seemed far grander, more unlimited. It was not the first time Ryu stood at the peak, looking down. Not the first time to consider the fall, and perhaps even not the last, and yet he knew that he’d never be able to make that step as long as he lived. Now though, he had signed the devils memo, and formed that sobriety of heaven.
“Then condemn my soul to hell for wishing it.” A tender flick of the wrist and Kuro had banished the book from sight, watching its helpless spiral into the fog. A flock of some nameless bird broke through the rain clouds above, huddled together in desperation through the persistent pour. For a mere instant they took hold of his insight, before his perceptions paralleled back to the slate grounds below his feet as the situation got the better of his mask-mellow disposition. Taking those half dozen steps to the now welcoming grate windowed door, at least so in comparison to the dreary sanctuary he had found, what could only be described as a disembodied cackle stepped into his company. It racked and rattled, loud still against the blunt weather, but yet it couldn’t be there- Kuro heard, but had no intent to listen to the misguiding sounds of his own mind.

What would I do with the power to kill without being caught? This was the question Kuro found himself pondering over while twirling a standard ball point pen between his fingers. The musk of the room was overwhelming on first entrance, but after the years the heavy odour becomes chance of a welcoming refuge. Ryu had no wish to attend the rest of his classes for the day, even though he could arguably due to keep up his upper-hand against the rest of his group, however there was nothing he couldn’t learn from the leather bound records that he couldn’t deduct from the equally dusty lecturers. Initially Kuro hadn’t supported too much of an opinion on profession, of special education- if anything he wanted to be an artist, to become a writer, to express thoughts and impressions that can only be passed on through the genius of the individual. Now he found himself confined to the lesser libraries probing through books that Jesus probably read during his university years. Still, at least he’d been gifted with some quota of decent intelligence that could be put to use, which was more than could be said for some; yet even when faced with the boundless resources of a high standing British University library all he could ponder was the sheer possibility such supernatural force would grant.
A thought provoking prank…Kuro closed the volume before him, he’d never much been revered for his attention span in the first place, however once his mind was focused on something it was difficult to be wrenched, regardless of the norm…nothing more than a chain letter for people anonymously wishing death on their peers. It’s sickening. Misinterpreting the fact entirely that he was the only soul to etch into that pad Ryu Kuro adjusted the trim collar of his jacket and was more than ready to vacate the premises and finish the day in slumber- it had not been one of his better days, then again, neither had it been his worst. Straddling the side of his head Kuro rubbed his fingers ever so tenderly on the soft material of a thin black scarf wrapped much like a headband fractionally below his fringe, below which he’d stuffed to absorb the now receding blood flow from his hardly ignorable fresh wound. As much as Kuro wished to avoid the cut, there was no getting around the fact he’d soon have to see someone about it- not a conversation he was very much looking forward to having. He had always avoided dropping Kane into the fire, there was no telling what he might do if he were to risk it- not to mention poor Suka, there was no telling what he might do to her if Kuro said anything.
It didn’t take long before Ryu’s head grew light, he had expected as much, taking refuge in the library was more to take his mind off things than anything else, but there was more weighing down on his thoughts now than ever before- his work would have to wait, he was in no condition for it now. At this rate I won’t be lasting long here…
Ryu closed the gravel toned, six hundred page volume before him with a tested groan, flopping back into the rough wooden chair and closing his eyes against that persistent stinging above his ear. Thankfully the smaller library was empty by this time, it wasn’t actually permissible to enter during full-periods without special admission, but nobody seemed to be too bothered with such rules. It did however provide the comforting loneliness Kuro felt best to make use of, but none the less couldn’t stay. Being alone with nothing to do, his thoughts kept swaying to Suka, sitting alone much like himself in the larger room on the upper floors. Could he not have gone to be with her instead? No, it would be foolish to show her what had become of him. If she stood up to Kane herself, it would be on Kuro’s shoulders.
The brooding youth flashed back to his sitting position as the thick door closest to his prioritised table cracked as it was shoved open. Covering the neck of his collar and the blood stains accompanying it Kuro attempted to look as casual as possible before a fellow classmate, a bright eyed lad with short hair the colour of myrtle, barged in with a ruffled expression. In an unintentional comic fashion Ryu dropped his head into a tilt at one side as Lance caught his breath.
“H-Hey, Kuro…been an accident, come on.” The excited student held onto the doorknob, doubled over as Kuro watched on in a state of confusion. Sliding the book across the table into the pile he’d been blindly passing over Ryu stood and approached, suddenly a serious look upon his face as Lance stood to his full height, still some inches shorter than Ryu, and glanced for a moment at the dark stains etched down Ryu’s jacket.
“You look like shit.” Lance himself had neglected to wear a jacket, his long sleeved white shirt bogged down by the weight of rain, clearly something was happening outside. As little as he’d have suspected it, something in the back of Kuro’s mind recited that first rule of a repulsive book he had once read. Could there be any possibility?
“I’d rather you explain.” The tall young man tucked a line of damp champagne hair into the makeshift headband, digging into the nervous looking Lance with a serious stare. Before the boy in the wet shirt could speak any further, Ryu swept past him into the long hallway, Lance jolting the door closed behind them.

(Continued in next post...)

It seemed the commotion was on a larger scale than Kuro anticipated, the halls outside the lower classrooms alone were clotted with swarms of inquisitive students, all asking the same questions. There was strictly no chance of making it over to the windows, not that much could be seen from them in this torrent of hailing rainfall- Kuro couldn’t help but wonder, as they tore through the centre of the bickering crowds, whether the extremity of his depressive weight was brining the rain down with it. Ryu hadn’t even waited on Lance to explain, it wasn’t often that anyone would go out of their way to summon the solitary Kuro, there was only one explanation he’d have expected the dark haired acquaintance to seek him out for. It took far too long for them to reach a secluded door into the rear courtyard that linked into the park area, already there were small bundles of students gathered round under umbrellas in all places, and every pair of eyes fixed to the miserable scene as a swooping light from the ambulance illuminated the buckled frame of some unknown Mercedes. Passing through that backdoor Ryu sprinted on ahead of Lance, who waned behind and joined in with a gathering of similar aged males from Kuro’s class. Ryu was the only one not under some covers, but the rain wasn’t bothering him by this point. The gentle twirling blue light of the ambulance glinting through the rain was a mellow tone, sided with the shuffling of men in luminous jackets passing back between the vehicles, Ryu couldn’t hear a word they were saying. He passed to the crushed body of the car, but someone put an arm across his chest. He darted his eyes to the form, looking at their face as some sense of panic came across his own, but he didn’t even process who they were.
“Calm down Ryu!” they spoke with urgency, which didn’t do much for his disposition. It took a moment for Ryu to realise he was pushing against the person, giving in and standing ground Kuro watched with a deep pull of dread as the bright coated ambulance workers carried across a stretcher, covered with a full black blanket. The spray of their thick Wellington boots across the sodden ground matched pace with Kuro’s heartbeat, he knew it before anyone even spoke it. “There’s nothing you can do for him now boy.”
The sudden numbness left Kuro stunned, the arm released him and vanished into the fog, as did all else. He was standing alone in the back courtyard, watching the glare of the blue neon lights fade out along with the death march, the pole bearers marching in the rain as they slid the coffin into the mouth of that dark funeral car, leaving Ryu alone. A second stretcher intruded on his solitude, breaking his illusions as paramedics swept in a slow grace around the form, this time the sheet was a white of purity, this time the cover was not up over their head. This time the person was crying.
“…Suka?” Kuro felt the breath fall from his lips, pummelled down into the puddles at his feet- what had Suka been doing in that car? She had only recently told him that…
Why did she lie? Ryu wasn’t even conscious he had asked himself, her face was marked badly, and was the last thing he laid eyes on before his body stepped into where his mind was absent. The lights withered behind him as Kuro took flight through the clusters of onlookers, brushing past Lance and his friends, who watched his retreat into the distant grounds and into the thick covering mists. Lance tucked close to a tall young woman holding a broad umbrella, three other students huddled in close quarters as Kuro broke their ranks. A boy younger than Lance, with hair like moss, shuffled his full length grit overcoat to protect against the bitter chill.
“Can you believe his nerve?” The shorter boy asked, both Lance and the raven haired girl looked across to him while the other two males watched with extended curiosity as Suka was lifted carefully into a second ambulance to make the scene. “To run away like that.”

Kuro found himself at the front courtyard, even without the best vision in the torrent his senses pulled him to this place. There was a grudging dread that came over him as the trembling light haired young man slowed to a stop- it wasn’t lost on him to just keep running, if he was running he didn’t have to think about anything else, there was nothing he’d have to worry about until he got where he was going, so what if he didn’t have anywhere to go? Would he never stop running, never having to think? Yet he came to a stop here, somehow he simply knew, this was his destination. At first it had just been a sceptical curiosity, then a lingering fear. Now it was upon him, he had signed away his own life, but worse than that, he had signed away someone else’s.
Suka…was it right to be thinking about her, with someone having died at her side? Should it really be Suka that should be haunting his mind? She was with him; she didn’t tell me…she didn’t want me to know…
The water was running into his eyes, his hair struggling to cling to his pale features without being dragged down by the sheer weight. The blinding sheet of water that had been numbing his face was becoming more apparent- Ryu eventually slipped off his stained olive jacket, which was now as dark as the clogged skies, and lifted it over his head. It wasn’t a usual thing for Ryu to do, but the shadowed shelter it provided held some kind of comfort for him against the events surrounding him. He felt cold, felt lost, standing alone in a seemingly endless slate court with the building wind roughing into his personal shelter from the outside. Why does she not care?

“You can’t blame him, really…” Lance spoke up, barely audible even as the storm weather began to gradually subside. At his side the young woman with long dark hair placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder; Nel at least understood his meaning. Tate, the lad with the curious hazel eyes and deep green hair around his ears, glanced at him from the side. Lance was casting his eyes back to the path Kuro had fled.
“There a reason for that?” Tate asked the steady drip from the umbrella rims patted into a strangely gentle silence. In the presence of death, there was calm so eerie that none of them questioned it. To think that Ryu, the one affected by this more than any of them, was alone somewhere while they all waited out in one another’s company.
“I thought you would have known,” Lance spoke, still staring over his shoulder as Tate watched his expression with curious interest, “Kane was Ryu’s step-brother.”

The twisted front of the jet black Mercedes was entwined into the fractured high wall, its bricks bleached a deathly grey with the years- the gathering mass of heavy arsenic grey clouds blocked what little light the day would have offered. The raindrops rolled down the shattered glass of the cars windscreen; on the opposite side more sprayed crimson drops and marks clung to the glass as the sweep of rolling thunder passed overhead. That comforting pulse of blue light now partnered with a more urgent flash, a police vehicle with blacked out windows and pattered white and neon yellow body pulled aside the ambulance as one of the brightly coloured paramedics closed up the doors. A slim framed man with greying hair and bristled moustache opened the door of the mudded police car. The officer, in his dark suit and tie posed so professionally, was approached by the head paramedic worker on call. The police officer raised his hand over his eyes against the dreary conditions as the ambulance workers recapped the events to him.
“Seems the boy, Kane Wright, was driving off in his car with the girl, Suka Magaru, during schooling hours; as they tried to pass around the back of the university Kane went into cardiac arrest and his vehicle went out of control and crashed. Both sustained only moderate injuries but Kane Wright’s heart attack proved fatal before paramedics could make the scene.” It wasn’t common for an ambulance worker to get so into detail over an accident, granted, but Officer Westwood was already well aware of this particular paramedics methods. The county was a small community in many ways, somewhat secluded, but it was funny how the more fatal and unusual happened in such places.
“What about the girl?” Westwood asked, pushing past the gathering paramedic team into the front of the ambulance, more to protect himself from the rain than anything. The boys in the glowing jackets paid it no attention and spoke to him from outside the open door.
“She’s stable, some minor flesh wounds and a broken rib or two- lucky thing though, any closer to the boy and she’d have had a nice heart skewer of her own. The police officer leant out from the ambulance door and looked to the site of the crash, indeed the buckle of the front axes had caused a part of the driving gear to tear up through the dashboard and pierce into the right side of the left seat.
“So she wasn’t in the boys lap, eh?” The officer chuckled, after a while it became second nature to laugh past all the difficult parts of a case such as this, “in the days I remember a girl would be all over a rebel boy like that, especially one driving a Mercedes.” The ambulance worker gave a smile and a slight nod, but his face immediately changed. It was indeed strange, perhaps it was better though that they didn’t question that.

Ryu wrapped the jacket around his shoulders, placing his forehead against the soft, cold fabric. Whether it was his doing or not- it didn’t matter. What mattered now was that it had been done, that it had occurred, and that he couldn’t understand why. Something ran past his hand, it was like ice trailing down his sleeve before hitting the ground with a sodden thump. Glancing with a lacking will Ryu caught sight of the subtle glitter, sparkling in a minuet puddle of water, that gift he had held precious to him for a while five minutes beckoned back to him, the long chain trailing across the ground and clinging to the side of his shoe.
“Don’t read too much into it Kuro-Chan...I’ve had that since I was like, six years old.”
“You’re giving me this?”
“I’d forgotten all about it, to be honest I don’t even remember who gave it to me, but when I found it in my old room…I guess it reminded me of you.”
The weightless feeling, it almost felt like everything that was happening was just in his head- and if only it could be, he would gladly have taken on the medium of insanity to lift this feeling plaguing him, if only he hadn’t done anything at all. He wouldn’t have known Suka for how she truly felt, or maybe even more so, Kane wouldn’t be sailing through the river Styx at this moment, with Ryu Kuro surely to follow.
“Was it all…because of me?” Ryu’s hand clutched around then silver amulet, dragging it out of the filth and water and holding it close to his chest, shrugging close to the warmth of his jacket, before opening his stinging eyes across the rest of the vast open area he had blocked from his own sight this whole time. The roof of the university, not long ago had he stood up there and looked down, only to see fog. Now he stood below, looking up, and could only see the same- yet it was now all so different. His sullen glance fell, following the path down the side of the building before coming to rest at the ground.
What if I had…? In his moment of mental weakness Kuro was blind, it was only once his sight and sense returned to him did the brutal pulse of his heart bring him back into the world, to see the reality before him.
Lying flat against the worn stone ground, it had been in his vision the entire time. His steps came steadily, yet he still felt like he was about to topple, and fall to the ground. It was like electricity in the water, his pulse rang in his ears- but did it not match his heartbeat? -This strange pulse, drawing him in closer. Abandoned in the rain, much like Ryu himself, though clear of any rain from its surface despite the downpour. It was waiting for him the entire time, knowing from the moment he had touched it, what both their fates would become. Watching him from behind the mist…

Death Note

Death Note
How to use it
II

• This note shall become property of the human world, once it touches the ground of (arrives in) the human world.
• The owner of the note can recognise the image and voice of its original owner, i.e. a god of death.
• The human who uses this note can neither go to heaven nor hell.