Burial (A Death Note FanFic)

Stranger At The Gate

Hello and welcome to my new story, readers old and new! So after the whole Netflix live action movie fiasco (sorry if you were a fan, but I couldn't get passed the bastardization of Light's character) I was drawn into the world of death note once more and wanted to write a story. Wammy's House is an area that was definitely the most tantalizing for me to want to explore because the possibilities are endless. Obviously this isn't meant to be taken as canon, but I want to keep it as close in the vein of Death note as I can, so I don't want you guys to have to worry about those details. I just want you to have fun and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own only any OC's and original plot points, the rest lies in greater hands than mine.

The first time Cherish met L was when she was 11 years old.

The autumns were cold in Winchester, and this year was no exception. The brisk wind matched her pace as she strode with her hands buried deep into her wool pockets. Her fingers were curled up into fists in attempt to retain any warmth, and she regretted not listening to her mother about wearing mittens. She had lied and said she was going to meet with 'friends'.

'But mittens are for children', she had declared before marching out the front door proudly. That foolish pride had long abandoned her, along with any feeling in her hands.

She kept her chin tucked down behind her thick knit scarf, but the tops of her cheeks had already turned an apple red the moment she had stepped out for her journey. Fortunately she did not need to see straight ahead to know where she was going. Every day after school it was the same. She had made this same walk through the streets and across the bridge many times, stopping at the large house locked away behind bars.

Wammy's House.

It had become something of an obsession for her, getting passed the large Iron Gate that is. She knew there were kids there. The delightful sound of fun had been easy to pick up on while going to the park with her parents one day, and she had wanted to run towards it. But then her mother had calmly explained to her what an orphanage was. She couldn't quite comprehend what it meant to be a child without a mum or a dad, but she liked the idea of going to school in the same house were you slept and ate food. More than anything, there would always be someone for her to play with.

She pressed her face up between two of the bars, mindful not to get her lips or tongue stuck to the cold metal. That had happened to a boy on the schoolyard last winter, and she was sure she had never seen that much red come out of anyone before.

The grounds around the house were covered in leaves, which left the trees standing naked in the wind. Someone had gathered the leaves into crunchy piles, and they looked perfect to jump into. Her eyes darted around with anticipation, and her ears were listening for the sound of laughter. A minute went by, and she stood with an eager smile. She even had her hands out from her pockets, grasping onto the bars of the gate, though it burned her palms with the touch of frost. The breeze stirred her hair around her face, and still no voices. It was just her and the howling wind.

Gradually her excitement waned, and her grip slackened on the gate until her arms flapped back down to her sides. She wasn't going to get through to the house today. This wasn't the first time she had stood gaping on the other side, and it probably wouldn't be the last unless she decided to climb over the bars. Fear of punishment kept her from doing that though. Nothing short of a golden ticket from Mr. Wonka himself was going to let her inside Wammy's House.

She huffed with disappointment and took a step back. The windows were too far away for her to see if there was anyone wandering around inside, though they probably weren't going to rush out just for her anyway. It was always quiet there now, and she began to wonder if she had imagined all those fantastic, fun sounds from before.