Stacey's fanfiction (draft)

FANFIC: Death Note

L at the age of seven solves the case of the missing canary.


STORY:

“L, drink it properly. You’re going to spill it everywhere holding it like that.”

The young boy continued to balance the mug precariously between the tips of his spidery, long fingers as he took another sip, followed by a dissatisfied frown. 

“You don’t put enough sugar in, Miriam. I can barely taste it.” 

“I put in three. Anymore and you’ll have a heart attack.” Miriam sighed, taking the mug away from him. “Honestly. It’s bad enough you like coffee, but with that much sugar-“

“Coffee?” A young, dark skinned boy sitting further down the bench from L screwed up his face in disgust. 

“The tannins in it can reduce the cariogenic potential of foods. They said that in experiments it’s the polyphenolic compounds that-”

“That’s a common myth; coffee is proven to lower the risk of Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s disease, as well as liver cirrhosis, kidney stones and gallstones.” L interrupted, happy to correct him.

“It’s also full of antioxidants, which help prevent the oxidation and damage of cells.” He added hopefully, glancing up at Miriam. 

She hadn’t seemed to have noticed his impressive argument; she was too busy sneezing.

“Excuse me,” She sniffed, reaching into her pocket and drawing out a handkerchief. She blew her nose noisily. 

“Q is right. Coffee’s not good for you, L.” She said, her voice muffled. With a final wipe, she folded the handkerchief back into her pocket.

Before L could argue that Q’s reasoning was largely based off popular belief rather than scientific fact there was a loud outburst of muttering from the other end of the room. 

L glanced down the other end of the dining hall and saw Wammy - the founder of the orphanage for talented children as well as one of his teachers - solemnly addressing one of the many tables that decorated the large room.

 "What's happened, Wammy?" Miriam asked him worriedly as he approached.

Quillish removed his glasses and sighed. "Julia's gone missing."

Julia was the orphanage's pet canary. L sat up in interest.

"You mean she's dead?" Q asked dejectedly.

Wammy, who had been polishing his glasses, put them back on, and gave the small boy a reassuring smile.

"I'm sure she's fine, Q. She's probably in the kitchen somewhere, looking for more bird seed."

Q's lips curl upwards sightly at the thought, and he returned to his cereal contentedly.

“Someone feeds Julia every morning, correct?” L sought confirmation.

Miriam nodded absentmindedly, watching Wammy walk away to another table to inform the orphans of the escaped bird. 

“Then someone is responsible.”  L declared, and this caught Miriam’s attention.

She whirled around and focused on him with a slight frown. 

“No L, this is no one’s fault. It’s just an accident. You leave it be, alright? I’m sure Julia will turn up soon enough.” She began clearing the plates from the table.

 

“You might not know much about coffee, but you’re right about one thing.” Q said next to him.

L turned towards him, curious enough not to retaliate. “What?”

“Someone does feed Julia every day. I was meant to feed her tomorrow.” He sniffed remorsefully. “I can’t remember who’s meant to do it today, but there’s a roster on the notice board outside the nurse’s office that’ll tell you.”

“Since when has there been a roster there?” Miriam asked Q incredulously, balancing a stack of plates and bowls precariously in her arms.

He shrugged. “It’s been there for ages. You just can’t see it because E drew something naughty on it, so they put the star chart over it instead.”

With some difficulty, Miriam managed to check the time of her watch.

“You two should be off to class. Go on, you’ll be late.” She urged. A spoon began to slide dangerously close to the edge, and she dithered nervously, leaning back and forth.

L slid off the bench and began walking down the hall, his brow furrowed. There wouldn’t be time to check the roster now; he’d have to do it after class. As he turned the corner, he heard an explosive sneeze, followed by a loud crash and a yell.

       ***

L was itching to get to that roster. Quadratics didn’t interest him, but a case did.

There was only ever one way to solve a problem in mathematics. An investigation had a wide array of paths that could be taken, a hundred different employable methods, and numerous possible outcomes.  

Psychological skills, adept comprehension, in depth intuition and the ability to deduct, deduce and decide with certainty were needed. L found anyone could understand ab + ac = a(b + c) with enough practice, but it took something else entirely to solve a crime.

Once Mrs Callaway had dismissed the class with a wave of her hand, L pushed his hair back, hopped from his seat and walked briskly from the classroom with mounting intrigue.

Soon, he would find out who was responsible for the missing of Julia the canary.

But when he had rounded the corner outside the nurse’s office, he realised something was wrong immediately.

The star chart, measuring and displaying the orphans’ good behaviour with tiny, golden stickers, hung lopsided against the noticeboard.

On closer inspection, he found that there was nothing but bare wooden frame underneath the chart. 

The roster that had named the one responsible for the missing bird, and the paper that E had scribbled a naughty picture on, was gone.

L quickly calculated. The odds of Q misjudging the location of the roster were less than 0.3%. The eight year-old had a photographic memory. The odds of someone moving it were much higher. And the odds of someone moving it less than an hour ago were above 70%. 

 He mused silently, unsure whether the roster could be, but nearly certain of one thing - someone had taken the roster. And that someone had let Julia escape.


                                                                       ***


The next morning, there was a commotion at breakfast.

"What's going on?" L asked a near by six-year old in pigtails.

"Julia's in her cage again!" She told him, beaming. "Oh, she's such a pretty bird. She's so happy to be back, she's even singing!"

L wasn't listening. He barreled through the crowd of chattering children, and made his way quickly down the hall.

When he reached Julia's cage, he stopped in his tracks. A small, bright yellow canary peered back at him through the bars, chirruping sweetly.

Julia was back after all. 

L frowned at the bird. She let out a string of high pitched notes, determined to prove him wrong.

He thought hard.

Usually, birds had a 18% success rate of escaping the inside of a building. And in a massive house like Wammy's, that would be further reduced to 9%. 

Birds also had an enormous tendency to fly into windows and other reflective surfaces, and it had been over 24 hours. And yet, no one had seen the canary anywhere. And now she was miraculously back in her cage?

The bird's singing was starting to irritate him. He was sure Julia hadn't sung this much before.

The answer was suddenly blindingly obvious.

He spun on his heel and marched purposefully down the hallway. Why had it taken him so long to realise? It was absolutely conspicuous. He should have known as soon as that girl had said-

"Oomph!"

 L crashed backward, landing straight onto the hard ground.

A woman groaned, clambering to her feet opposite him. "... God's sake, just the kind of day I'm having..." This sentence was cut off by a sudden sneeze. 

"Miriam?" L said, standing up and peering at her. 

She wiped her nose miserably. "Oh, L, it's you. Sorry, I'm a bit distracted."

 L didn't have time for Miriam's personal problems. "Miriam, where's Wammy?"

"He's gone out somewhere. Why?"

"Someone's replaced Julia."

"Sorry?" Miriam said, stunned. 

"That bird isn't Julia." L repeated impatiently. He didn't have time to explain this. He needed to talk to Wammy, conduct some interviews, maybe try find some forensic equipment...

"L, you're being silly. Of course it's Julia." Miriam stuffed her handkerchief in her pocket, looking harried. "The Headmaster has enough on his plate without another one of your conspiracy theories."

L bristled with anger. "It's not a conspiracy theory. Julia's a female and that bird is a male."

This caught her attention - reluctantly."How do you know that?" She asked, annoyed.

"Only male canaries sing." He told her.

Her mouth dropped open  a fraction. "Oh." She said flatly. "Well - look, I don't know L. Maybe someone did replace her. But-"

"But who did it?" L asked aloud, ignoring her.