H.H.S.A Guidebook for New Inhabitants
Originally published in 803 A.D by V. Atticus
Edition 34

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5. The system of Initiatives has been in place since the founding of the Halfway House. It is a form of voluntary self-government that has kept peace within our community for hundreds of years.

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☥ ☥ ☥

A wave of emotion hit me stepping into the Memory Room. I was so overwhelmed at being suddenly immersed into such a visceral plane that in that moment, I could only stare breathlessly at my former home.

I was standing in the middle of the fields I used to play in as a child. Judging by the crisp air and tall green grasses swaying in the wind, it was spring. The sun's warmth was a blanket of vitality; so different from the stiff, filtered air I was accustomed to. Maybe a hundred metres past me was Wammy's House, with a solitary wooden cross atop the roof. The cabin where B and I had lived was nowhere to be seen. In Ryuzaki's memory, I suppose it didn't exist.

Ryuzaki was gazing out at the orphanage beside me, his expression unreadable.
"...Home sweet home." I muttered. I let out a sigh, kicking at the loose dirt below my feet. "Shall we?"

He nodded, and we began to head towards the orphanage. My senses reawakened at the rush of stimuli; I felt so lucidly the crunch of dirt under my feet, the grassy stalks brushing against my legs, the mild humidity of the air. It was all so stark and palpable; overrunning with life. Death is a dull and stale state of being, and despite its many comforts, you become deprived of things you once took for granted.

We came up to a gate fencing off a modest vegetable garden and greenhouse. I paused for a moment leaned on the fence, staring out at the grass fields. It felt easier than looking at the building itself. Ryuzaki clearly had a great deal of fondness for our orphanage, but my feelings towards this place were conflicting, and frankly quite painful. I asked myself why I was doing this. How did I find myself here again, after all I'd done to get away from this place? The sheer dissonance between the simple beauty of this scene and the terrible events that transpired here for me was... it was confusing. And I didn't know what I should feel.

When I turned back to see where Ryuzaki was at, he had already vanished from the garden and left the back door wide open.
"Ryuzaki!" I called out, to no answer, and then sighed. I walked through the gate past rows of plants and up the steps. Inside, he was standing in the doorway of what was once the playroom.

He turned to face me.
"Sorry." He said. "I just wanted to take a look inside. I won't stay long. The only place I want to visit is my old bedroom upstairs. It should be intact."
"...Alright."

I followed him up a flight of stairs, which sagged under our weight. As a kid I'd get scolded for running up and down these steps, and when I was eight I broke my ankle flying down the banister. I remember not crying, so that my friends wouldn't cry either. I was so innocent then. Beyond said it was kindness; I'd call it naivety.
The familiar creaking under my feet anchored me to the building. I don't know how to explain it, but I felt an intimate physical connection to the wood below my feet. As if a part of me still lived inside it. Somewhere beneath these floorboards I'd find my old self, unmarred by the traumas of adolescence. For a second I envisioned myself as a child, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. No. I had to keep a brave face in front of him.

We came to the second floor, where Ryuzaki walked down and opened the second door down the hall. Inside was a messy room with books and papers littering the floor, and crumpled clothes and sheets.

Ryuzaki stood in the doorway, a heaviness clinging to the air around him. The room had this eerie, transient feel to it, as if it was our same flux between life and death; a mirage. Merely a reflection of something that once was.
His head was bowed. I knew that right now, he must be feeling something very painful. Did the sight of this place tug at his heart? I wonder, what was his childhood to him? Did he feel the same rift between his past and present, the same sense of loss?

Eventually I stepped inside to join him, sitting down on the blue single bed and staring up at the ceiling. He paced around the room for a bit before joining me, lost in his own thought. We stayed like this for a long time, silent.

Six months after arriving at the Halfway House, I visited Wammy's House too. I remember the flurry of emotions that had assaulted me then; the sight of this place had triggered a panic attack of awful proportions that left me in the hospital overnight. But Ryuzaki had only been dead for two days, and he could already handle being here. What does that say about him? About me?

If only I had his mental fortitude, the conviction that made him the incredible force of justice he was. Maybe then I could've shouldered the burden. When I was alive I solved a number of incredibly difficult, high-profile investigations as well, but I was easily fatigued; uncertain and vulnerable to bouts of depression and burnout. Ryuzaki on the other hand, was born with an overflow of passion spilling out of him. But me, I lack drive. I have no conviction at all. I'm weak of heart. At the end of the day, that's what separates him and I.

Suddenly, Ryuzaki broke the silence, his voice low and steady.
"You know, we lived here at the same time."

I lifted my head.
"What?"
"I came here when I was eight. You were six or seven at the time." He explained to me. "I wasn't here long and I was shy, which is why you don't remember me, but I remember you. I used to watch you and your friends from my window."

I sat up, and a chill ran up my spine as I looked out at the grassy hills below. I had played there as a kid.

"...Then, you knew who I was when I was chosen to be A."
Ryuzaki nodded. "Our marks on intelligence tests were in the same range and your reading comprehension actually exceeded mine. You were going to be raised alongside me, but they decided not to."
"Why?"
"I unwittingly told them that I sometimes saw you from my window, and they worried I might come to fancy you. They feared that two adolescents becoming close could cause problems. We could be distractions, or might even run off together. It was decided that I would be better off raised on my own."

"That's ridiculous." I said, contempt stirring in my stomach. "We were just children. Besides, Beyond and I were raised together."
I knew in my mind the real reason - because he was L. Me and B, we didn't matter like he did. Whammy's House didn't want us to touch him, to ruin what they had.
"I know." He replied. "Both of our childhoods were governed by rather soulless people."
...I suppose that's one way of putting it.

"So, is that how you knew my real name?" I asked, and he nodded.
"Then, tell me yours. It's only fair, don't you think?"
"...Lawliet."

"Lawliet?" I repeated. "That's an interesting name."
"It's the combination of 'law' and 'light'." He told me. "My mom had unique taste, apparently. With that name, of course I became a detective."
"...I suppose so." I muttered. "If our names really influenced our fate, it makes sense that I'm Above Asphodel."

He turned his head, curious.
"Beyond gave you that name, right? What does it mean?"
"The day we became friends, I was holding an asphodel flower. They grow in the fields here. I learned later that the flower means 'my regrets follow you to the grave'. And in Greek mythology, the Fields of Asphodel were where people who were neither good nor evil went after death. A place of 'utter neutrality.' He ended up being pretty on the nose, huh?"

"...Yeah." Ryuzaki replied quietly. "It makes you wonder if he knew something we didn't."
"I wouldn't be surprised. Sometimes it felt like he knew I'd die even before I did."

Ryuzaki was silent. His eyes were glassy. I checked my watch and realised with a start that it was already 5:30.

"Shit. I forgot. Time moves a lot faster here. It's almost nighttime back in the Halfway House."
"Oh, should we head back now?"
"We don't have to. I'm just letting you know. There's all the time in the world."

He stood up and brushed off his pants. "No, I should go. I don't want to inconvenience you any more than I already have."
"It's fine if you want to stay longer. I don't mind."
"Still."
I sighed. He was stubborn, alright. I suppose he was trying to be considerate.
"...Alright, I guess."

As we left our home behind, I silently bid my home farewell. I decided then and there that I would never go again.

The two of us left our orphanage without sentimentality, and began up the fields as the sun waned in the sky. When we reached the door to the Halfway House, I paused.

"Would you like to come onto the roof with me to see the sunset?" I said suddenly. "No one should be up there right now and I... like the ambiance at night."
Ryuzaki looked up, surprised.
"...Sure. So we're going from sunrise to sunset? That should be interesting."
We exchanged a small smile that may have meant a great deal, and then we quietly returned to our Deaths.

☥ ☥ ☥

I rummaged through the back cabinets for anything non-alcoholic and came up with nothing. I gave up with a sigh of frustration, and brought to the deck a large bottle of rosé and two wineglasses.

I sat down beside Ryuzaki.
"Is the second glass for me?" He asked.
"Who else would it be for?"
"...Okay, but I'll warn you, I've barely ever drank."

"I never even touched alcohol before coming here." I told him. "Everyone here drinks, it's a social thing. You should get used to it."

I poured us two glasses. A fragrant scent wafted from the clear pink liquid. It tasted flowery, with both the sour notes of a plant and the bitterness of wine.

"This is actually pretty good." Ryuzaki said, pleasantly surprised. I watched him down the entire glass, making no attempt to stop him.
Let him embarrass himself, I thought with thinly veiled amusement. Petty, yes, but a part of me wanted to even the score. Ryuzaki poured himself another, nearly to the brim this time.

For awhile we sat and sipped wine in silence. The sky over us was glittering and dazzling. We bathed in this unfamiliar sun's rays as it danced on our skin, tantalisingly, teasingly.

Once he'd finished his second drink, Ryuzaki sighed loudly and suddenly declared,
"You're pretty sadistic, you know. Is it fun, watching me get wasted?"
"...A little." I replied, smiling. "But if I'm a sadist, you must be a masochist. You know what you're doing as well as I do."

"Masochist? No, that's not it." He laid back, stretching his arms out wide. "I'm just in a strange place emotionally. It's bizarre, waking up in the morning and being dead."
"You get used to it." I told him. "There's nothing humans can't adapt to."
"Really? But, you never adapted to Wammy's."
I shot him a dirty look.
"That's awfully rude."
"Well, I knew you wouldn't be upset. You see, I can already tell your reactions based on your temperament."
"Is that so..?"

The wine must've had an effect on me as well, because I did something rash. I threw myself on top of Ryuzaki, straddling him. My eyes were inches from his. I was fully aware of the suggestive nature of this position, and did it anyways.

"Did you predict this?" I asked. Ryuzaki's cheeks were dusted pink.
"I didn't... lesson learned, then"

I laughed and pushed myself off of him, sitting back down to finish the last of my wine. Another glass was poured.
"Come to think of it, I've never heard you laugh before." Ryuzaki remarked, sitting up to watch me with sparkling eyes. "I like it."
"Well, don't get too cosy. I only laugh when I'm drinking."
"So, are you drunk?"
"Are you?"

We both snickered. His laugh, too, was pleasant, though I didn't say it. I just drank some more and watched him turn over to lay on his side, peering up at me with a peculiar expression.

"Tell me, Above. You've read more about this place than I have. What do you make of god, or the supernatural?"
"What do I think?" I sat back and thought about it for a moment. "I doubt there's any omniscient, capital-G God. But it's a question that's not meant to be answered, and there's no use trying to reach the unreachable. Even if you could, you'd probably just regret it."

Ryuzaki thought about this for awhile, and he murmured,
"That makes sense. You know, I enjoy hearing your perspective. I've never thought of it that way."
"That's because you're always getting bogged down by moral paradigms." I said, wagging a finger disapprovingly. "I can tell. You agonise over abstract concepts like 'justice' and fail to look at the bigger picture. 'Justice'...what a ridiculous notion. To dedicate your life to catching criminals is to ignore the systemic cruelty that causes it. Hundreds of millions - no, billions are being exploited as we speak while a small few drown in unfathomable wealth. Where's the justice in that? No, there's no such thing. So how much good does locking up criminals do, when the very nature of society is what causes them to grow? If you ask me, you and Kira are going after the wrong people."

"...Yeah." He replied, more easily than I'd expected. I looked over and realised he was clutching his glass with both hands, knuckles white. "But I'm not a revolutionary. I've always thought that if I could just help ease the symptoms of a sick world, my life would have some purpose."
"That's where you and I differ. If I were L, I wouldn't be able to help but think of it as futile venture and succumb to hopelessness. I could never have your conviction. How on earth do you manage it?"
"...I'm not sure." He said with a sigh. "I've always thought of my conviction as my greatest strength. My success has less to due with intelligence and more with dedication. I get a sort of tunnel vision that makes things suddenly appear very simple. Though I can't tell you why I'm like that. I was just born this way."

I tried to picture in my mind's eye what he'd said. Somehow, through the haze of a steadily growing intoxication, it made sense.

"...That's it." I said. "That's your mistake. Your protégés aren't in it for 'justice', they just want the glory of being L. I only stumbled into my role as A. Wammy's was searching for intelligence when they should've been looking for someone with your same sense of purpose. Intelligence can be acquired... conviction, not so much."

Ryuzaki nodded. His eyes were misty.

"You're right. You know, that concise, distilled analysis of yours is why they made you A. You're better at seeing the bigger picture than I am. If not a detective, you'd make a great analyst. Maybe a professor of some kind."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't flatter me."
"It's not flattery. It's just what I think." He said.
We made eye contact. His pale skin glowed in the deep twilight of the setting sun. Surely it was the wine, but I couldn't help but be entranced by the sight, by the way the light filled the sharp contours of his face.

"...How am I so drunk?" I wondered aloud, abruptly severing the spell I'd been under.
Ryuzaki yawned.
"I knew it. That's why I drank so much, to keep up with you. You've only had pretzels and coffee since this morning. You get more drunk on an empty stomach."

I groaned. "...Dammit, you're right. Well, no use now." I held my wineglass in the air ceremoniously and then downed the stuff. I grabbed the bottle to fill it again, and was startled when only a few drops trickled out.

"Oh, come on!" Annoyed, I flung the empty bottle as far as I could over the edge of the roof, watching it soar tragically through the misty air before falling into oblivion.

"That's... probably for the best." Ryuzaki muttered, scratching his head.

I sighed. So and so many glasses of wine down the hatch and I was more than tipsy. My brain was just a bundle of impulses darting around an empty skull, my thoughts jumbled and in disarray, and I was itching for an outlet to release all my pent-up energy. Before I realised it I was fidgeting, rapping my knuckles against the concrete floor.

"You know... I really don't know what to make of you, Ryuzaki." I told him. "Something about you irks me, and it has nothing to do with our history. At first I just thought it was contempt, but ever since I realised I don't actually hate you, I don't what it is." I sat up and frowned, pointing an accusatory finger at him.
"Well, don't you have something to say for yourself? Look at the dilemma you've put me in!"

Ryuzaki frowned right back at me.
"Yeah? Well, what about me?" His face was flushed with colour, red from intoxication.
"What about you, honey?"
"Augh!" He exclaimed. "Look, I know I'm the bad guy here, but I have feelings too, you know! After chasing down Kira for god knows how long, he actually kills me! I have no idea what's happening down on Earth. N is plenty competent, but what if it's too late? What if I've allowed the world to fall into the hands of a tyrant? Can you even imagine that responsibility?"

"Wait, wait." I sputtered. "N? As in Near? You mean you chose that kid to be the next L?!"
"Well, it's not like you were there to take his place!"
"You said I wasn't fit to succeed you!"
"And I was wrong!" He exclaimed, and then groaned. "God, I'm such an idiot. If only I hadn't driven you to suicide, I wouldn't be in this situation..."
"Shut up about that! I know you feel responsible for my death, but you really aren't that important, you know!"

At this point we were just screaming at each other to let out frustration, making absolutely no sense and causing a racket. But despite the confrontational veneer, I felt more energised than I had in years. I'm sure Ryuzaki felt the same. I slid off my seat and slumped over on the concrete deck, splayed out like a fool next to him.

"...I didn't say that." Ryuzaki grumbled. "I told you, I'm an idiot! Augh..." He'd rolled over onto his back, close enough to me that his shoulders brushed against my torso. He was frustrated and losing his composure, nothing like his usual deadpan self. Somehow I found myself enjoying this disgruntled side of Ryuzaki.

"Wow, yeah, you are an idiot." I said dryly. "That's quite a pickle you're in there."

"...I hate pickles." He muttered. "But no, that's not even half of it, Above. Oh, there's so much more. After dying at the hands of a deranged megalomaniac, I come to in an empty room with A of all people opening the door, utterly mortified. So both of my biggest fuck-ups are haunting me in the afterlife, and now you won't even let me apologise for it!"
"Oh, boo-hoo. You didn't kill me, so get over yourself! I decided to die months before I met your sorry ass." I snapped. "Tch. Look, if you need to get on your knees and beg me for forgiveness so you can sleep at night, go right ahead!"

"What?" Ryuzaki's eyes were wide with confusion. I was glaring at him, though I wasn't quite sure why.

"Come on, out with it."
"Um, I'm... sorry?"
"For...?"
"For hurting you so badly you set yourself on fire?
"Alright! Apology accepted!" I declared, folding my arms together. "Happy now?"
"..."
I sighed. "I give up."
"Well, I guess I do feel a bit better now that it's out my system... but