Another Note: Kira's Ghost

BY : Resting-Madness
Category: Death Note > General
Dragon prints: 605
Disclaimer: Disclaimers: I do not own any character, any plot overall that exists in the world of Death Note. That goes to the wonderful God who thought it up ad all the hard workers who brought it to life. I also make no profit.

2007, March 12th.

On floor seventeen of the HQ building for the task force investigating the Kira case, time seemed to slow to a standstill.

The day had been a slow from the start, why not do the impossible and stop time; however, the inside doesn't match the outside because the day was lovely. It was the kind of day outside where a person would behold its beauty through a window and wonder why it is they're indoors. It's why the other members of the task force have gone out for a walk in the park or for a light meal, alfresco. Some of them even went on home to their family. Why not? The case wasn't moving along any further since Kira stopped killing. Even murderers head off to the beach now and then. And staying cooped up inside with the depressed detective, Light Yagami, and the chatterbox Misa Amane wasn't the wisest decision one would make.

The accused second Kira is currently having a personal spa day: hair, makeup, the whole package, she even ordered bath salts. Which left L and the accused Kira/ acquitted investigator up-incoming to their own amusements.

A sharp pair of honey brown eyes lock onto the cool coal black of a pair across from them. The glance, dark as night, looked curiously back. What was the plan? What will happen? What indeed.

"At this point we should just take turns giving each other a victory," Light says jokingly about such a prospect.

"Stalemates can be tedious." Replied his opponent. He begins cleaning up the chess game; all the little pieces of the court are compiled together then tucked inside the tabletop game board that houses them.

"It's nice. I've gotten so used to winning against players in school matches-"

"-That our days spent on one game, always ending in a draw, are a breath of fresh air?"

"Precisely." He stands from the chair he's been seated in for hours.

If Light didn't have such good posture, he's sure his back would be killing him. He stretched his muscles regardless. Arms over his head, and back slightly askew to give recovery to his ribcage. Sitting is a dangerous pastime.

He looked at L who is watching him. Always watching him. Those assessing large eyes never seem to miss a pause of blood flow in his veins. That may be a tad dramatic, but it felt like the truth most of the time. At least 76%. The chain keeping them tethered together might be adding to his scrutinized feeling of "follow the leader" or "my living backpack". He often wondered if he and L would be in the same room if not for the, literal, manmade security alarm.

"Stretch your back once in awhile." Light hears himself say. "You could probably use it; your chiropractor's bill must be through the roof," he muttered offhandedly. "not that you couldn't afford it."

"My back is fine." He stood up and stepped out of the chair. "It just seems a bit pompous to sit up straight with my seated position."

Light could only snicker, as that was the most ridiculous excuse he's ever heard. L's sense of humor, he's come to understand, is like that. Witty nonsense. He's grown used to it, would even go as far as to say he likes it. It beats firing off intellectual insults. Not that he'd be outmatched by any means, his tongue is mightier than the pen as well. As Chofetz Chayim would say.

"Do you wanna do something else?" Asks the rookie detective. Watching L depart for his laptop, he came to the conclusion that the games were over for the day. He followed along, he had too. The rattling chain voiced it's "come along, come along".

"Yes." L looked over a selection of chocolates resting beside the chosen laptop from four. Pinching a cordial, he sucked out the sweetly tart cherry filling while speaking inbetween lavishing. "Mm, if I don't keep busy then my mental stamina declines by eighteen percent." His pale hand extended to a device beside him. "You're welcome to join me."

A long finger poked a few keys on the unmanned laptop causing the screen to change. A grid of virtual envelopes rush down and down the visible area of the computer screen. The many folders made it seem almost like a waffle. Light shook away the image; no wonder L has, or had, developed a sweet tooth.

"Pick any case you like; go through the notes, make your own, and see if you can solve it."

Light scoffed. Child's play, surely. Was L curious if he could do more than paperwork? He knows he's secretly been grooming him for bloodhound work. Sniffing out fraud and evasion of the monetary kind. To be honest, he was sure he'd be amazing at it. It's what he did for his father back when he was fourteen and was allowed in on looking over some casework the man had in his briefcase. Numbers couldn't harm his genius son as a criminal could, there was no risk or harm in the permittance. It was fitting to his skills and made sense. But, he's more than that. He can follow any trail, numbers or no.

L watched his companion, friend, and- when the mood struck- lover as he chose a file amongst thousands, maybe more, and was given a very graphic view of autopsy photos of a- very- murdered young girl.

Those were good times. But, it hadn't all been work related or chess. Sometimes he and L would just discuss current events, or a book. He really treated, and wanted, Light as a friend.

Light Yagami has never felt unnecessary to L. The man always made him feel needed, useful. Important. It was a good feeling. And he liked to think that he gave to L as much as was given- well, up until his memories had returned, leaving him in the resume of killing the man who was delaying the fulfillment of his dream as the God of the new world. Herolded as the bringer of peace.

His thoughts, feelings.. It was all so much more simple then.

And now..

His honney brown gaze stared across from him, the short distance of a desk, where Beyond Birthday is currently looking back.

And now...

He's gone...

2008, January 20th. Los Angeles, California.

"Let's seeee," the word drawled out through the expulsion of smoke blown into the cool night air from an intake of nicotine extracted from the cigarette between the teen's lips. "we've got the five in front, ten in the middle aaand…" He made a clicking sound with his tongue against his teeth. "Only three manning the helm. This guy must not be all that smart, or has more balls than a bathhouse in his level of confidence."

Mello smiled to himself. He liked the odds. 18 against one; one as in himself, will certainly show the head-honcho who's really in charge of this area.

He needed to start over. Nice and fresh. Distance himself from Wammy's bosom. Distance himself from what happened to L. It wasn't right. It isn't fair. Not only was Mr. Watari gone, but that son-of-bitch Kira killed L. And that cannot go unpunished. Not when it's someone he cared about. Not when it's someone whom he admired. Not when the man hadn't picked an heir to the title. The front-runner. To make M the new aspiration. The one to take on the usurped L code. All of that snuffed out. Rubbed clean with bleach before burned away with acid. All gone. Because of one entity that can do unbelievable things to anyone at anytime.

But not for long.

He may have told Roger Ruvie to give the title of L to Near, but that doesn't mean he's out of the case, quite the contrary. Not only is he out for revenge against L's killer, but he's going to take Kira's head on a spike from Near as well. Going the traditional route was never his forte. He likes action. Now! Not later, as he scratches at his chin hairs once he's mulled it over for a few months.

But, unfortunately, his speedy exit was without proper thought towards funding his new independence, so he's gonna need to cover that slight miscalculation; which is what brings him here. The shut down steel mill in Los Angeles, California port district. Which houses one faction of the Mafiosi of LA. The Talons.

"The other Mafiosi have a good amount of info on the guy," came Matt's tinny voice over the intercom in Mello's ear. "Name's Rod Ross, no alias, forty-one years old, no known family. There's speculation of it, though." Matt gave a snort. "Says he's the worst of the bad. Nobody messes with The Talons, and he's the reason why."

Mello stepped over to an air duct, and after removing the grate on top of it, he dumps a plastic tube down the shaft. Slipping a gas mask over his face, he then barged into the building. He doesn't care if the guy invented, improved upon, and has a fucking statue built of his likeness for being the most dangerous person to walk this mostly greyed earth. Dangerous is what he wants. What's needed right now to obtain complete victory over Near. Over Kira…

Everything is riding on this..

….

"Rise and shine." Crooned the intruder voice muffled by the mask.

Darkness became clear for the one spoken to. It was hazy at first, but when his eyes fully open, clear up, he realizes something happened. Something annoying. He is not amused. A stern expression further creased a face that's already chiseled grim.

"Are you a gambling man, Mr. Ross?"

Ross turned his head to see who is speaking to him. He expected a lot of things visually. The usual chest puffed thug, sporting a scar, missing teeth, and a bad attitude. Dressed like he just came from a rummage sale of new and used television gangster clothes emporium. What he did not expect was to see a plump-faced, teal-eyed child, sporting a pretty nice gun for a guy his age; he's ensconced in black like he's hosting his own personal wake.

"Is that from my safe?" Asks the man about his gun without a show of fear.

"And I've gotten into so much more…" Mello smiled. "Care to guess what I've done while you were taking a power nap?"

"I don't even know who you are little boy, so if this is some revenge kick, you'd better clue me in. Because once this game of yours is over.. I'm gonna make sure no one else remembers you either." He smirked hearing stranger chuckle as he repositions the stolen gun against his temple. "What? Are you some disappointed from a whore I banged?"

"I'm not your bastard kid," Stepping before the man so the barrel of the gun is now pressed into his forehead, Mello clears things up for the man. "I wanna join your gang," the man began to laugh as the mouthy intruder continued on with his list of demands. "under the conditions that I have your level of access to everything."

Ross laughed on, thoroughly entertained.

The disgruntled blond bared his teeth in anger. How dare he not take him seriously because he's young! Maybe, he needs a firmer example. "Don't mock me, this isn't for nothing. I'm smarter than every idiot in this place, yourself included. You could use someone like me as your right hand, and I could use someone like you for what I need."

"And what is it that you need?"

"Power. And according to the streets, the port mafia have the majority of it. Just one is beneath you from the warehouse district,"

Rod Ross scoffed. "And you think knowing that makes you special?"

Fingers between his lips, he gives a whistle. "Yeah. I do."

Double doors open up and in stumbles Drexel Tisdale a.k.a Lord Spears. A name given to him as he once speared a man up his ass with the pointed end of a volleyball net pole, just because the guy failed to make his payment for block protection- however unasked for that protection was. The convenience store owner man was at the park with his kid at the time, pushing her on the swings when he was called away a distance to talk. No one noticed the missing equipment until it was found in a most gruesome way.

"Lord Spears. Hn. I heard he fled the country when Kira started killing gangs." Rod says. "How'd you track him down?"

The man in mention, blindfolded and gagged, looked around with confusion as a familiar voice hit his ears.

Not even he, with all of his resources, could find Spears. And when the unusual being that is Kira showed up in the world, the gang violence increased drastically over the months, because any death or wrong doing, the police chalked up to the mystery killer in the sky. It was beautiful! The Talons' power, his power was exceeding far beyond the port mafiosi. But the weasel Spears got away on him. But, here he is now. Brought in by some goofy kid with a death wish. Give him equal power. Hilarious.

"Have we got a deal?"

"No."

Mello tipped the hammer back with his thumb; a bullet cocked into place. "Guess I'll just have to take it then."

The man couldn't hide his flinching eye, but the cylinder was empty and the pin only clicked. Mello smirked. "Have we got a deal?"

"This little show is because you know my men won't listen to you if you kill me. I'll bet every chamber is empty; you're bluffing, and it's pathetic kid."

The lining of the aim was done so quickly that Matt bolted out of range as a bullet blasted from the barrel of the gun landing right into the center of Lord Spear's chest. The shock came first, the pain second. The man is blindfolded, after all, he never saw it coming.

"You sure about that?" The gun has been aimed back at Ross's forehead.

"Staged." Rod held his ground.

Another spin of the cylinder and Mello continued on with the Russian Roulette. "Nope."

A bullet left the gun slamming into the man's forehead. He could only sit there, expecting death. Swift and black. But when the room remained intact visually. His widened eyes locked into Mello's.

"Wanna find out if the last two holes are empty or blanks… or death?"

"You're nuts kid, why the hell do you want this?"

Because, yes, he could simply kill him and take over the organization. His men, wherever the hell they are from whatever happened to them, would likely follow this psychopath once they find out what he's done insofar as breaking in, incapacitating them all then taking out their boss. So why this song and dance?

"I don't wanna own your stupid den of sycophants, I just need men and resources. I'm gonna take down Kira, and I can't do it with only one." He had to admit that much, because with Near having an entire team, he was at a disadvantage. Mello only has Matt, he needs expendables, grunts to take shots, go where is necessary, and his dear techie ain't it.

"Just the power."

"I only need full control of who moves where and when…"

"And you think you can take down Kira?"

"I guarantee it." He lowers the gun.

"You do got some big ass balls, kid."

Mello's glare only sharpened as he watched Rod Ross stand before him, all 6' plus. Weight class far superior to Mello's tiny, fifteen-year-old frame of 105. The man could ball his hands together and drop Mello cold with one bow. However, he simply shrugged out his hands.

"I can give you the means that Kira uses to kill… You need me. And I need what you've got." The moment was too charged to even snicker at the innuendo of those words. It was just tit-for-tat. You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours.

"Hn. Well fuck.. I know a good bargain when I hear it." He smiled. "You've got a deal, blondie. What do I call you?" H took back his stolen gun.

"You can call me, Mello."

And in the short time of his joining up with the mafia, Mello was able to obtain ranking power, not just because it was demanded but because the members of the gang genuinely respected his intellect. He and his quiet red haired partner made them more money than they could ever imagine, gave them access to information no one person should ever have obtained without coming away bloody then dead, and all for the cost of their digging up street information for him about some agents or an occasional backup job for some thing or another.

And then he helped them to obtain this strange book that he claimed was Kira's power source. Damn if it wasn't truth. And soon their boss was untouchable.

But it had taken too long to get the notebook. Kira had done so much damage. But all of that was small potatoes compared to what he's done recently. Kira has been resurrected and is teamed up with a madman.

A madman who did the unthinkably impossible, after L had escaped certain death the first time... B killed L. He knows their names... How soon before they're next? Dead. Killed... by Kira.

Present day. 2015, October 12th.

"It's been months.." growled Mello. "Months!" He punctuated his next words by flipping a tray. "Where the fuck are they?!"

Near, whom happened to be eating from the once stationary tray of food, coolly replied just as if nothing had happened. "Would you rather they be on another years' worth of deaths killing spree?" he reached for the call button. He was barely through with starting his meal when Mello used it to physically, as well as verbally, swear.

"Don't be stupid, of course not. But it would make it easier to locate that bratty little shit and the walking straightjacket, if we could zero in on a location."

And even that was wishful thinking; a guy could have a heart attack in Mexico, what would they know from natural, death note based, or even one frightening drop too many on a roller coaster? The death note is not bound by location. It may not even be bound by species- if one could memorize the face of an animal so well.

The nurse who came to the call entered the room and gasped at the appearance of the disgruntled blond, right before taking in the mess on the floor. "Oh dear, now who's done this?" Her accusing green gaze slid over to Mello before she spoke to the patient. "I'll get you another tray,"

"Thank you." Near replied.

"I'm gonna call Matt," From that statement, he took his leave.

The janitor came in to clean the mess of food up off the floor; he worked silently then left, almost bumping into the nurse who was just coming in with his replacement meal. Truth of it is, Near is hardly hungry; he's just as angry as Mello- maybe even angrier! He'd warned L, pleaded with him not to be blindsided by the guy, and now look what's happened... No "take-two". No "made ya look". L's corpse was brought in; his life confirmed dead. He's now a time of absence and nothing more.

It was a dark night that day. The staff all shouting commands to each other as Matt was left in the dust, covered in stress sweat and the detective's blood. He, Near, sat unable to do could a thing; all he knows about it is a mere recounting of words mumbled at him by the shocked red-head. About how he tracked down L; he drove out to get him, to tell him what was going on... but what he found was a mess. Lifeless dolls, a once living person's remains, a startlingly realistic Watari and the biggest horror of all was L. His life was gone, his stone stiff body cold, holes in his shirt looking like he'd met Wolverine and they hated each other to blows. He'd called an ambulance and rode over with them to the hospital.

Where was Mello? Did he see him? No. How could he have when he'd only just woken up from his own ordeal.

Near told Matt about his injuries, how his disc degeneration was suffering because of them. He might never walk again. A laughable diagnosis, because at least he's alive. He spent the remainder of that month cursing himself for not finishing Kira off while they resided under one roof. He cursed L for blindly trusting a supernatural being to properly give his former master amnesia to prevent Kira's second coming. And then he cursed himself for cursing L. It wasn't his fault. No one could have known that Beyond wanted Light Yagami. His anger towards the late detective was soon a regret when he remembered what Mello had told him. Beyond Birthday abducting Light Yagami, about how he planned to return the notebook and Kira's lost memories. This was all his doing. But that doesn't mean he forgives Light of his crime. And, regardless the regret for his anger, it also doesn't mean he's ready to forgive L.

Mello stormed out of the patient's room and doesn't stop leaving figurative footprints in the linoleum until he's outside in the dim grey city. He paused and looked as if he was going to punch something; pedestrians swerved out of the way, their untapped animal instincts kicked in sensing danger. But instead of hitting something or accidently someone, he walked to his bike and dropped his weight down onto it. This is not right.

So much for the fail-safe of amnesia. It only took touching the notebook and Light was back on his feet as Kira. More or less, because he hasn't done a thing since obtaining the notebook and gaining an ally. A smart ally at that! They're dead. They're all so dead. Unless they can get to them first, what can they do about death decided by a killer notebook? You'd stand a better chance at beating a lion with a pencil sticking out of your mouth because your arms have been removed before the match.

Mello can still remember that night.

A crash overhead. Broken shards of glass came flying down to the courtyard before him. The dropped food stuffs as he awaited the sight of Light falling to his death, and that brief inner bracing as he wondered if he could catch him from certain death; in his mind, Beyond could have been lying and sought Light out to kill him as well. He could have shoved him out of the window as he'd tried dragging him from one when they were back at the mansion.

But there was no body in drop, but rather flight as overhead Light Yagami was carted away by a grotesque Shinigami that looked a lot like a patchwork doll come alive. He drew his guns and fired. He was hoping against the odds that his bullets would hit. Piercing the back of Light's skull and ending this nightmare before it began, but it was not to be. The pair were too high and the bullet range not even close to that of a rifle, and there was no time to go inside the home, locate one and then try once more for a shot at him. They would have been long gone, up, down, and sideways.

Mello present flexed his hand, as that time he actually had punched something; the brick paneling of the mansion. He could have shattered the bone he'd hit the place so hard, but instead just broke skin from the pressure. Matt was unreachable at the time, he called countless times and met up with him at the hospital. He was told about L. He knew about Near's condition. But L…

The bike revved to life startling a few pedestrians who were casually passing by, having not expected any sudden movement or sound from the frozen blond straddling the bike. What the hell are they going to do? Where are they!? No. He can't allow himself to be frustrated; he found Kira and the notebook before, he can do it again...

Somewhere in London.

He wished he knew where he was taken. Light thought he should at least have that much information under his belt. Beyond Birthday's words lingered in his mind like swirling whirlpools, as many as could fit, going in any direction they pleased.

Back at the safe house. He watched the stranger die after writing his own name into the death note, and then he watched that same stranger come back. How? He questioned it out loud, he'd expected no answer, but received one.

"I can show you, if you come with me." His long, bony fingers danced along Light's jawline. It felt like a spider dancing lithe against his skin; touching without wanting to touch.

He had agreed to go. The odd stranger travelled to the window, and in the blink of an eye he sprouted wings. Large black feathers brushed past him like an entire murder of crows rather than two solid extensions. The window shattered, and he was abruptly spun around and elevated from the floor out into open airspace. He remained calm. If dropping him was Beyond's intention, he'd have done it and there would be nothing he could do. Why panic before or even if it was necessary?

The only thing Light knows is that he is inside of an actual home structure. What it looks like, he can't say. There were no lights on out in front, and no street lights nearby to even show the area around the home. It was darker out wherever Beyond had taken him compared to the city. And when a door was opened in the black, it created a mouth when the lights came on; by motion sensor not magic.

He looked about as they passed rooms, it was like some strange showcase as their movement would light up the darkness that swiftly cut out behind them. He's impressed by the minimalist simplicity. It was elegantly done. Neo-gothic silvers and blue gold accent the white and black color scheme.

Beyond spoke not a word as they'd gone down the long hall. Light, through this lead from behind but untouched push forward, also showed no sign of any emotion other than calm through that. Because, as with the impromptu flight, being mentally shoved down a hallway wasn't anything to worry about until the situation became so. He could have had any harm come his way with his back to the unusual stranger, but he was not.

He walked into the last room placed dead center of the place. It's an office/study. Nothing like the rest of the home that was seen through a side-long glance on the way. Large bookshelves line a single wall, a gas fireplace sat in the center of the room, lit despite the heat of the season, the other wall contained windows that a desk sits before. Comfortable accent chairs are set here and there, inviting the reading of a book, or the simple act of relaxing and doing nothing. Conversation.

That was months ago, when they arrived. Two months, and Beyond had yet to tell him what they'd be doing. Or what it was that he wanted from him. They seemed to simply be existing with each other. The stranger didn't even talk to him since their initial meeting! What was he playing at?

Light Yagami spent time in the new situation exploring the large 3 story home. The gothic revival revealed nothing unusual aside from its owner. He even touched at the walls under the curious wonder if there might be any hidden passages. There is not. Beyond, for all his ignoring him verbally, sometimes ignored him physically by leaving a room when he'd enter. He knows he's there , he was cooking for him. Delicious meals he'd unceremoniously hurl at the table once he sits down. He would join him for a meal or two, but mostly he was absent.

He wondered, more than once as time passed, slowly, day by day, what the others are doing. A smile graced his handsome features when thinking about the arrogant Wammy kids walking on egg shells, fearing the roads; and eating more than carefully as they speculate what he and their former acquaintance are up to. He could write out a car accident. Choking on a speck of food, heh heh heh. Wondering when the day will come when he'll write their name down in his notebook and end their pathetic life. That's the only grievance of a death note; he can't tell if the person affected by it is still conscious as they go to their doom. He wants to know that their death isn't mindless. He wants them to fear him. To perhaps regret how they'd treated him during the case, however false it was.

All this time.. Ellis Quimby was Beyond Birthday posing as the journalist to get at them.

No. Not at them, to get L's attention. And had he? What was the end game there? To best the detective? To show him in a cat and mouse way that he had survived a heart attack in prison. And Light has yet to be told of how the bizarre host managed such a feat. Was there some trick to beating the death note. Some dispel?

Enough was enough.

"Beyond, what's with you?" he began as an opener once locating the stranger in the one room in the home that was different from the others. One would even describe it as painfully normal in comparison, a contrast to the painfully abnormal within it. "You brought me here for some reason, and I highly doubt that it was to ignore me."

Beyond looked spooked, his eyes enlarged revealed what his words and a physical leap did not. "Phew. I was beginning to think the place was haunted," he smiled.

Light glowered. He wasn't serious? Had he really thought that he was an apparition haunting the place? No. He's just messing with him…

"What do you want?" asked the host. He snagged a jar of strawberry jam from a drawer of the large office desk he's seated at. "Can't you see I'm mourning?"

..Or not. "You brought me here. You said you'd show me how you beat the death note's effects."

"Mhmm." He sounded in agreement.

Light took a seat in the chair across from Beyond, legs crossed, hands together and all businesslike. "Have you forgotten?"

"Who was your Shinigami before me?" It seemed a change in subject, at least to Light.

"Ryuk. And what do you mean before...?"

"I thought you were a genius? There's a systematic error. Man can't fly, Light Yagami." He face-planted the desk and slumped up a chunk of strawberry that slipped onto the desk having slid between his fingers. "This is why I wanted Kira."

The Shinigami, or perhaps something new, snapped stinky fingers together; the sound make Light's face twitch in disgust, he felt that at any moment the strange young or possibly older man would reach out and touch him with that mess. The thought did not sit well.

"I remember now, why I brought you here. We're gonna play a game called God of the New World." He climbed up onto the desk, crouched before Light, his steady gaze looking so intensely at him a hole could be burned through to the throw rug. "You write the names and I kill them."

"Why? Won't the notebook take care of it?"

Light leaned away when Beyond extended his arms so his sticky hands are near his face. "Like a Golem, ready for command. That's how my notebook works, kid; and while we paint the town an apple orchard red, we're going to ruin the late L's existence."

'Late L?' wonders Light.

"Not only will the revived Kira greet the current days to come in vast judgement, but L is going to go live on screen and tell the world to bow down to you, Kira. Ruler of justice."

"Good luck. L would never do something like that; he and the others are probably on the hunt for us as we speak." He actually looked forward to it. He missed the challenge.

A gruesome grin stretched Beyond's lips apart. "Haven't yet let it set in? That's a shame; guess now you'll be wanting some mourning time." And this time his gooey violet stained hand does touch his face, cupping his chin as he brings his face too near him to say. "L won't be interfering without a Ouija board. L is dead."

'He's… dead?'

He doesn't feel the slap on the cheek before Beyond leaps from the desk making for the door. "So little to do, so much time to do it." He exits.

How Was it possible? Was it true? But it can't be... 'He's really dead?'

x X x

Commentary: Thank you for reading, reviewing if you choose to, and follows and favorites are appreciated as well silent readers. I worked on this and worked on this and the nerves of first chapters never goes away. But, I hope it wasn't confusing, it'll flow a lot slower than this in the chapters to come. Have a good weekend.

Oh, and, I'm doing this at a leisurely pace because I'm up and down with wellness. Finally found what the problem was- woo hoo and dear god, why!? But at least now, I honestly and truly know. So, I will be taking care of my health and updating when I can. Thank you for understanding.



Review Another Note: Kira's Ghost
Report Story