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S?: It is rumoured that there are ways to know if a person will Crumble soon, though this is little more than hearsay, so I do not suggest you take any of this as fact. The most agreed upon symptoms seem to be increased drowsiness, decreased appetite, a loosening of ones inhibitions and a reversal of disposition — extroverts becoming introverted, or the meek becoming bold. Again, this is just speculation. It is disputed as to whether these changes are psychological or physiological in origin.
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[ B — Day 6, A.D ]

While reading over these entries, I've realised that besides a handful of people, most of you would have little clue of what happened during A and B's nine years of torment at the hands of the Wammy's House. Murky details allude to some degree of abuse, but it was never explained in detail what exactly occurred.

Above was right to assume that many of the children from that wretched orphanage would develop soul anomalies. And now that they've passed on, I'm the only one left that can fill the gaps in this memoir.
I'm the third person to read Above's accounts, taking it upon myself to edit these writings and add passages from our guidebook for future Inhabitants associated with the Wammy's House.

But before I speak further, I want to ask you — what exactly do you think happened to me and Above? Do you think Above was simply too stupid to be L? That they were too weak? Do you think B went mad because, what? I knew when people died with my oh-so-tragic shinigami eyes?

Yes, this is B. Failure No.2.

As you know, we were the first generation of successors. Prototypes, expected to fail. Really we were more test subjects to tinker with while they were figuring out how to forge a brilliant mind. Their approach was 'tough love', to put it mildly. To be strong of mind and will, to know hardship, to be forged by fire. Any deviation from perfection was unacceptable. In short, they were cruel and overbearing.

Of all the gifted children they gathered, Above demonstrated the most potential by far. Really, I was a backup for the backup, and naturally I loathed such a position. I resented how gentle and mild they were. But back then, Above possessed an airy warmth that, by the time they died, had been thoroughly extinguished.

I've always been an outcast. I've been surrounded by Death as long as I've existed, and you can see it in my eyes. People can tell, and they've always been wary. Above is the only one who's ever treated me like a person. Every other one of L's successors save for Above was selfish and vain, myself included. We never cared about justice, only our own personal glory.
But all Above ever wanted was to find purpose, to make the world a better place. They were a sweet, introspective child with misty eyes, always so curious and incisive. And although I hate to use such a hackneyed line, I suppose only the good die young.

Maybe you remember when they constructed a small house a ways away from the main orphanage. I'm sure that the building has been repurposed by now. But I wonder, did any of you notice that the entire house is soundproofed? And if you did, did you wonder why exactly they would need to cover up any noise?

It was to muffle the sound of our acutely vicious training; relentless barking and scolding. As you lived a relatively carefree life, two children were being hounded to their wits end, day after day after day after day.

Our life consisted of nonstop academia crammed into our heads. It wasn't unlike ordinary schooling, except that the school day was fifteen hours long and seven days a week. Our caretakers would scrutinise us endlessly, pushing us past our limits. The smallest imperfection would result in an immediate and harsh reprimanding.
It was an unrelenting hell. At first I embraced it, hoping that one day it would pay off. I may have been considered brilliant, but I was unmistakably naive.

Years passed with no change in sight. I began to despise the teachers beating down game theory and strategics into my head. I'd stare down at black and white chess pieces and tried to remember what other colours there were. All I could think of was grey, and I realised I'd forgotten the others. I looked out my window at the boy fated to die in exactly thirteen years, and couldn't remember the name for the colour of his trousers.

But escape was unthinkable. We'd invested our entire life in this. We were in too deep; and we'd be tossed aside and ridiculed as too stupid and incompetent to handle the pressure. This was supposed to give us purpose, but all it did was reduce our entire existence to our bedroom, the bathroom, and the study.

On Sunday we were given a few hours outside in the courtyard and outlying orchards, though communication with the other orphans was strictly forbidden. Once, I laid under an apple tree on top of the hill and watched the children playing below me. One boy in particular seemed to be the leader of his friends. He had a wide, toothy grin, and for a moment I was puzzled; it'd been so long since I'd seen someone smile that I didn't understand it at first. It dawned on me that he resembled A as a kid.

This was a profound revelation. I'd been so caught up in trying to best A that I hadn't noticed how much they'd changed. Over the years, they'd become quiet and reclusive. The warmth had disappeared from their eyes. Their former, cheerful self had slipped away, seeping into the cracks of the floorboards.

I saw A in the distance, rocking on a bench swing all alone. They were gazing at the same group of kids, twiddling a small white flower in their hands.
Until then I'd only ever seen Above as my rival, but I decided I wanted to befriend them. Despite their melancholy A was kind, and we quickly became close.

I knew, and had known since the second I laid eyes on them, that A would die two days before their eighteenth birthday. I warned myself not to get attached, but by then it was too late.

One day I decided I wanted to give us both a different, secret name. One we'd picked ourselves. A and B felt so dehumanising. I christened myself Beyond Birthday, and A as Above Asphodel. Above and Beyond that monstrous L. Childish, I know. But we cherished our names, because it was the only thing we'd ever chosen for ourselves.

I never told them, but I named Above after the  asphodel flower in their hands that day. I'd read that in the language of flowers, asphodels meant 'my regrets follow you to the grave'.
Well, the name turned out to be much more accurate than I'd intended. In Greek mythology, the Fields of Asphodel were also a place between heaven and hell.

As time went on, things gradually got worse for us. Above frequently fell victim to panic attacks. I became obsessed with L. We were visibly circling the drain and as a result, our caretakers beat down on us. Literally. They would hit us when we fell short of expectations. If we didn't improve, we were locked in a closet stinking of mould and crawling with roaches, or deprived of food. We spent one winter in the wild, living on rats and tree bark, whatever we could manage. They'd already chosen a second generation of successors; C, D, and E. We were just leftovers. How this abuse was allowed to go on I'll never know. Did L know how we were being treated? Did Watari? According to these accounts, they didn't. L I can believe. Watari, not so much. He must've known.

There was a connection between A and I that only forms in dire, desolate circumstances. We spiralled into the abyss together. We'd huddle beside another in the cold, if not to combat the freezing cold to remember what the warmth of another human being was like. We shared the same burden, and in many ways we were one and the same. 

Eventually I fell in love.

It was devastating. Every day, I'd look at Above and see their life slip away before my eyes. Two years. One. Nine months. Six.
Four months before their death, Above met L in person. It was supposed to be an honour. But when Above returned and I looked into their eyes, I knew why their time was up.

L had deemed A unworthy to be his successor. Said they were weak, squandering their potential. I was furious. A was just tired.

I knew exactly how Above would die. In spite of all the inner torment, they were always intent. If Above was to die, they'd do so on their own terms.

I feigned ignorance until the night of. Once our caretakers were asleep I snuck into Above's room, where they were preparing their things. I saw in their eyes the same look every human takes on when their fate is upon them. An eerie calm.

Above didn't attempt to explain things, and I didn't bother to try and stop them. Instead, we shared a long embrace that turned into a kiss. They thanked me for being there for them, and left as the sky began to lighten.

I went back in my room to find they'd slipped a note into my pocket. On the envelope was a message instructing not to open the letter until they were done.

So I snuck outside, and watched with a mixture of grief and awe the spectacle they had turned themselves into. They had hung themselves from an apple tree in the center of the orchard, in plain view of everyone's window. Over their head was a sign with the motif 'Justice, at what cost?'. A long wire led to our house. They'd rigged it to burn.

A final act of defiance.
I couldn't help but admire it.

I fled Wammy's amidst the chaos to the Heathrow International Airport in London. As the plane was taking off, I unfolded the suicide note of Above Asphodel.

Beyond,

Sorry for my abrupt departure, and for leaving you behind. But I had to do this.
I realised when I met L that I had lost whatever little purpose I had left. A life this agonising isn't worth living, not if it's futile.

Please don't try and join me. You still have a shot at a meaningful life. You've always been stronger than me.

Please, live on.

In in this envelope are instructions to a proxy server in the Netherlands. I've wired a quarter million euros (everything in the Foundation's rainy day fund) to a Midtown Mutual bank in Los Angeles opened with the fake ID I've prepared for you. The password is 'Camell1aZ1nn1a'. I've made it so that the money is untraceable. Use it to live comfortably, and make a new life for yourself.

I've escaped the shadow of L, and I want you to be free as well. The way we've been until now... it's no way for a person to live.

My only wish is that you go on living. My regrets really would follow me to the grave if you fell to Wammy's suffocating hold.

(Yes, I know why you named me Above Asphodel.)

I love you, Beyond. Thank you for always being there for me. You're the only person I've ever truly understood in this cruel and absurd world. If there is an afterlife... I'll be waiting for you on the other side.

Above Asphodel

I folded up their letter and carefully returned it to it's envelope. The first time I'd cried since I was a child was in an aeroplane toilet miles above the Pacific.

Above had granted me freedom and an escape from a futile life. The password, Camell1aZ1nn1a, were the name of two flowers. Above knew I'd recognise them. Camellias mean 'my destiny is in your hands', and zinnias are a reminder to never forget absent friends.

I'll always treasure Above. Every happy memory I have is with them. My greatest regret is that I never told them about my eyes, and that they Crumbled not knowing that my three victims were already fated to die. I didn't take their life so much as alter their death. I couldn't care less that the world knows me as a murderer, but it's unbearable to think that Above saw me as that. But that's the burden I bear, and somehow so deserve it.

Well, the only failure that followed me to the grave is that I didn't die by my own hands like I intended. I wanted to go out by fire, the same way Above did, and instead I was killed by a psychotic Japanese teenager. Life sure has an cruel sense of humour.

Know this: Wammy's house never 'crushed' A. Suicide is not an act of cowardice, but of desperation. It may have killed them, but A still stood in defiance, never yielding to their attempts to bend them to their will.

If only I could see Above just once more. But the universe has deemed me unworthy of closure. Punishment, maybe, for my sins.

Even still, it's my firm belief that death is the universe's way of serving justice, and in death we all find solace.

Genesis 3:19 — Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. We are but dust, and to dust we shall return.

Good luck and good riddance.

Beyond Birthday

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