Bean

Chapter 9: The Countermove

-One Year Later-
December 2, 2003
Winchester, England

L sighed heavily as he closed out of the computer program and rose to his feet, having been crouched on the wood-planked floor. He turned and took a few steps with downcast eyes and pocketed hands.

Something deep down was telling him that this case was different... special, somehow. He had never seen anything like it. Criminals all over the world suddenly and inexplicably dying of heart attacks? Something strange was at work here, and L could sense that this was going to be the biggest and most difficult case he'd ever tackled.

He stood for a few moments more, gathering his thoughts, then lifted shadowed, sleep-deprived eyes to look around the small room.

This had been his room, growing up at Wammy's House. There was no bed, no bookshelves, no pictures on the walls. There was a closet lined with a few dozen plain, white shirts and a dresser containing underwear and blue jeans, but not a single sock. The vast majority of the room was taken up by wires, monitors, computer towers, and other various tech. It was here that he had spent most of his late childhood.

L lifted an index finger to scratch the side of his forehead, then returned his hand to his pocket. Sighing again, he stepped over to open the door and exited the room. His bare feet made their way down the hall and to the doorway of the large living room area where several children played with various toys and games. A dreary rain was falling outside, and a cozy fire danced and crackled in the big stone fireplace in the corner.

Five year old Bean was sitting on his knees on the large area rug watching a yellow-haired boy of nearly fourteen put together a model rocket.

"Now I need that piece right there," the older boy said, pointing. He wore all black, and his hair was the color of orange juice.

Bean picked up the specified piece and handed it to the teenager. He appeared to feel quite important and pleased with himself for helping. His dark red hood was up and his black bangs tumbled into his svelte, blue eyes. The ends of both drawstrings were between his top teeth and bottom lip as he intently watched the new piece being attached to the colorful rocket.

Another young teen brushed past L in the doorway and moved to sit cross-legged beside Bean. He wore a red striped shirt, and a pair of orange-lensed motorcycle goggles rested atop his head of aubern hair.

"I got the glue," he said, and he held out a small tube to the boy building the rocket. Then he pulled a hand-held video game out of his pocket and little beeping sounds began to eminate from the buttons.

Bean sat up and shuffled over on his knees to place a hand on the redhead's shoulder. His other hand held one of the hoodie strings up to his mouth.

"That's not Mario," he observed curiously.

"Nah, this is Megaman," the boy with the video game explained. A toothpick protruded from between his teeth and moved jerkily back and forth as he chewed on it.

"L?"

At the sound of the old man's voice, L looked over to see Watari standing beside him.

"Oh, Watari. I need to talk to you," he said, and they turned to stand in the hallway.

"What is it, L?" the old man asked.

"This new case..." L began slowly. "I believe that it will require us moving to Japan for an extended period of time."

"Japan?" Watari seemed surprised. "Why there?"

"There is a strong possibility that this killer- 'Kira,' as they are calling him- is located in Japan."