Categories > Anime/Manga > Death Note > Shinigami: Death of the Old World
Before the other shinigami could catch up, Midora scrawled a note and tore it out of her death note as quickly as she could, stuffing it under the rock just in time.
“Geez, Midora, slow down! What are you, a squirrel or something?” her searching partner wheezed as he appeared over the dunes. Midora didn’t know his name, and she didn’t care enough to ask.
“I just wanna find them and get this stupid thing over with, is all. The Old Geezer’s gonna work us to death at this rate.”
Although the rock never moved, the note was gone from under it a few minutes after they left.
Dear Death Note, it said in rushed, messy writing. No sign of Justin’s hideout so far. I dunno what Zellogi’s been up to-the old man seems to be trying to keep us separated. We’re still searching around-I got my assignment near the beginning this time, when the old man was divvying up search areas, so all I know is that three shinigami are searching that weird pit with chains hanging everywhere, three are looking around that canyon near the human world entrance, and I’m with just one other guy on the far side of the viewing holes. Dunno if we’ll find anything, though. As soon as Justin finished reading, he turned to the five shinigami who were following him, pointed to a tunnel, and said, “That one. You know the drill.”
Midora and the other shinigami had split up a while ago-she’d suggested that they stick together, but had just shrugged and walked off when he’d asked the reason why. He was starting to get sick of rolling the viewing holes to one side and looking under them. They were a stupid kind of heavy, and there was nothing under them but sand, sand again, some more sand…a tunnel? The shinigami yelped as five other shinigami leaped out of the tunnel, grabbed him, and dragged him down it before rolling the viewing hole back over the entrance. The shinigami yelled for help for a little while as he was dragged along the underground tunnels, but gave up after a few minutes, and stayed silent until they came into a cavern where the stalactites and stalagmites had grown together to form columns. He didn’t try to struggle as the five shinigami who had captured him took his knife and chain-he was too far inside the hideout and too outnumbered to escape now. Several other shinigami who had disappeared while searching for Justin’s hideout were chained to the columns. As they chained him to a free column, he was surprised that they only locked him up by one wrist, and after looping the chain around the column, Justin’s supporters simply closed the other cuff back around the chain…actually, that was how everyone else was chained up, too…
“Ah…found him?” said Justin, emerging from a tunnel that branched off the cavern, holding a bag of round, bright-coloured, sugary-looking things.
“Yep. Right near the tunnel we dug under the viewing holes, just where Zellogi and Midora’s notes said he’d be.”
“Very good, all of you.”
“So, we’ve been on capturing duty for a week now-that’s two candies, right?”
“Yes, that’s what everyone agreed was fair. Here you go,” Justin said as he doled out the things in the bag.
“What’s going on?” the shinigami whispered to another shinigami chained to a column beside him.
“Zellogi and Midora are spies. They’ve been reporting our movements to Justin somehow, and whenever we’re searching near a tunnel entrance, Justin sends a gang to guard it, in case it’s uncovered. If it is, we get dragged down here and chained up.”
The five on “capturing duty” had disappeared, and now only Justin was left. The shinigami cowered as Justin looked at him.
“What are you going to do to me?” he squeaked.
“Nothing much,” said Justin.
The shinigami blinked in surprise. “Nothing much? You’re…you’re not going to kill me or something?”
“What would be the point?” said Justin. “We don’t need to kill you to keep you from reporting our location to the King. Keeping you chained here is more than effective enough.”
“So…I’m just gonna be chained down here forever?”
“Hopefully not forever. The fight should be over before then, one way or the other.”
“Cheer up. It’s not so bad,” said the shinigami next to him. “Justin only keeps us chained by one hand, so we can still sit and move around and stuff, and there’s some games he loans out if we get bored. I’ve got a set of death’s heads, if you’re up for it.”
The newly captured shinigami looked bewildered, but he sat down and took his pieces from the other shinigami nonetheless.
“Oh, well,” he said. “Guess it can’t be any worse than combing the entire freakin’ realm…”
Justin sat down on a nearby rock…it wasn’t his chair, but in these circumstances, it would do. Until it was time to check for notes or look at an under-construction tunnel, he’d have to sit and guard the ones unlucky enough to stumble across a tunnel entrance. He listened to them mutter about who had high card and whether or not someone had cheated as he flipped absentmindedly through his death note, wondering where Nu had gone…he’d wanted to ask her more, about what she remembered…on a sudden whim, Justin flipped to the very front of his death note and looked at the first page.
The King hadn’t been in this room of the tower for a long time. Once he’d taken over as King, it had required nearly all of his time…the last thing he’d completed had been the viewing holes, and that had been centuries ago. He felt curiously nostalgic as he bent over the two-way inter-dimensional transmitter prototype, connecting the wires, welding things in place, and flipping the battery on and off as he tested the parts…it was as natural as breathing. Yes, this was his domain…it had been his domain even before he’d had control over the rest of the realm, this room full of spare parts, batteries, wire, tools...he’d always been the master of machines, of bending them to his will. It had been in him since birth, mechanical engineering…that deep sense of contentment and rightness that came over him whenever he used to work on an invention was coming over him again now, and he’d forgotten how good it felt. He flipped the battery on again, measured the signal strength…no, that wasn’t powerful enough. He needed something with a higher frequency…if he remembered correctly; it was in one of these cabinets…
Filled with a spryness and enthusiasm that he hadn’t felt in over five hundred years, the King flung open cupboards, searching for the part he needed...but the smile fell off his face immediately when he opened the sixth cupboard on the floor. The King fell to his knees. He stared for a moment at the three clay jars, filled with sand and rust…he’d forgotten about them…no, he could never forget about them. As hard as he tried, he’d never be able to forget…the best he’d been able to do was to forget where he’d put them.
The memories came rushing back into his mind, as if he were a human who’d regained a death note after losing ownership.
Nu stood on the rocky, broken ground, listening. Although the vents had been blocked and hadn’t made the shinigami realm any warmer or colder since then, she could still feel them rumbling under her feet. Once the struggle had started, she’d known that things would be getting too loud, too busy…that was why she was so far out. Her senses wouldn’t have been able to take it. Her super sensory perception was too strong…so strong that it was more of a curse than a blessing. Even though she was a hundred miles away, Nu could still see the King’s tower. She could also hear the scream within it…one that spoke of hundreds of years of pain, rage, loss, and grief…
“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…that it had to be this way…”
Nu blinked. “Not nearly sorry enough,” she said out loud, not caring that the King was far too distant to hear her. “After what you did, there isn’t enough sorrow in existence for you to feel enough of it…”
Justin hadn’t looked back at the first page of his death note since he’d written on it all those centuries ago, and he’d forgotten what he’d written in the first place…there were no human names, so far as he could tell. Just phrases, some only partially completed, with pictures of stickmen and stickman parts hanging from crudely drawn gallows. Justin felt something stir in the back of his mind as he looked at two half-done phrases near the bottom. One of them read JUS_ _N SME_ _S, in clumsy, childish writing, and the other said E_T D_RT FED_R…hangman. Justin didn’t know how he knew, but as sure as he knew his own name, he knew that the drawings and phrases were a game called hangman. Something else was trying to surface in his mind, something…Justin closed his eyes and concentrated, before the memory could slip away, trying to bring it into focus… “Dad.” Yes, something about “Dad”… “Stop fighting, you two!”… “But, Dad…”
“Geez, Midora, slow down! What are you, a squirrel or something?” her searching partner wheezed as he appeared over the dunes. Midora didn’t know his name, and she didn’t care enough to ask.
“I just wanna find them and get this stupid thing over with, is all. The Old Geezer’s gonna work us to death at this rate.”
Although the rock never moved, the note was gone from under it a few minutes after they left.
Dear Death Note, it said in rushed, messy writing. No sign of Justin’s hideout so far. I dunno what Zellogi’s been up to-the old man seems to be trying to keep us separated. We’re still searching around-I got my assignment near the beginning this time, when the old man was divvying up search areas, so all I know is that three shinigami are searching that weird pit with chains hanging everywhere, three are looking around that canyon near the human world entrance, and I’m with just one other guy on the far side of the viewing holes. Dunno if we’ll find anything, though. As soon as Justin finished reading, he turned to the five shinigami who were following him, pointed to a tunnel, and said, “That one. You know the drill.”
Midora and the other shinigami had split up a while ago-she’d suggested that they stick together, but had just shrugged and walked off when he’d asked the reason why. He was starting to get sick of rolling the viewing holes to one side and looking under them. They were a stupid kind of heavy, and there was nothing under them but sand, sand again, some more sand…a tunnel? The shinigami yelped as five other shinigami leaped out of the tunnel, grabbed him, and dragged him down it before rolling the viewing hole back over the entrance. The shinigami yelled for help for a little while as he was dragged along the underground tunnels, but gave up after a few minutes, and stayed silent until they came into a cavern where the stalactites and stalagmites had grown together to form columns. He didn’t try to struggle as the five shinigami who had captured him took his knife and chain-he was too far inside the hideout and too outnumbered to escape now. Several other shinigami who had disappeared while searching for Justin’s hideout were chained to the columns. As they chained him to a free column, he was surprised that they only locked him up by one wrist, and after looping the chain around the column, Justin’s supporters simply closed the other cuff back around the chain…actually, that was how everyone else was chained up, too…
“Ah…found him?” said Justin, emerging from a tunnel that branched off the cavern, holding a bag of round, bright-coloured, sugary-looking things.
“Yep. Right near the tunnel we dug under the viewing holes, just where Zellogi and Midora’s notes said he’d be.”
“Very good, all of you.”
“So, we’ve been on capturing duty for a week now-that’s two candies, right?”
“Yes, that’s what everyone agreed was fair. Here you go,” Justin said as he doled out the things in the bag.
“What’s going on?” the shinigami whispered to another shinigami chained to a column beside him.
“Zellogi and Midora are spies. They’ve been reporting our movements to Justin somehow, and whenever we’re searching near a tunnel entrance, Justin sends a gang to guard it, in case it’s uncovered. If it is, we get dragged down here and chained up.”
The five on “capturing duty” had disappeared, and now only Justin was left. The shinigami cowered as Justin looked at him.
“What are you going to do to me?” he squeaked.
“Nothing much,” said Justin.
The shinigami blinked in surprise. “Nothing much? You’re…you’re not going to kill me or something?”
“What would be the point?” said Justin. “We don’t need to kill you to keep you from reporting our location to the King. Keeping you chained here is more than effective enough.”
“So…I’m just gonna be chained down here forever?”
“Hopefully not forever. The fight should be over before then, one way or the other.”
“Cheer up. It’s not so bad,” said the shinigami next to him. “Justin only keeps us chained by one hand, so we can still sit and move around and stuff, and there’s some games he loans out if we get bored. I’ve got a set of death’s heads, if you’re up for it.”
The newly captured shinigami looked bewildered, but he sat down and took his pieces from the other shinigami nonetheless.
“Oh, well,” he said. “Guess it can’t be any worse than combing the entire freakin’ realm…”
Justin sat down on a nearby rock…it wasn’t his chair, but in these circumstances, it would do. Until it was time to check for notes or look at an under-construction tunnel, he’d have to sit and guard the ones unlucky enough to stumble across a tunnel entrance. He listened to them mutter about who had high card and whether or not someone had cheated as he flipped absentmindedly through his death note, wondering where Nu had gone…he’d wanted to ask her more, about what she remembered…on a sudden whim, Justin flipped to the very front of his death note and looked at the first page.
The King hadn’t been in this room of the tower for a long time. Once he’d taken over as King, it had required nearly all of his time…the last thing he’d completed had been the viewing holes, and that had been centuries ago. He felt curiously nostalgic as he bent over the two-way inter-dimensional transmitter prototype, connecting the wires, welding things in place, and flipping the battery on and off as he tested the parts…it was as natural as breathing. Yes, this was his domain…it had been his domain even before he’d had control over the rest of the realm, this room full of spare parts, batteries, wire, tools...he’d always been the master of machines, of bending them to his will. It had been in him since birth, mechanical engineering…that deep sense of contentment and rightness that came over him whenever he used to work on an invention was coming over him again now, and he’d forgotten how good it felt. He flipped the battery on again, measured the signal strength…no, that wasn’t powerful enough. He needed something with a higher frequency…if he remembered correctly; it was in one of these cabinets…
Filled with a spryness and enthusiasm that he hadn’t felt in over five hundred years, the King flung open cupboards, searching for the part he needed...but the smile fell off his face immediately when he opened the sixth cupboard on the floor. The King fell to his knees. He stared for a moment at the three clay jars, filled with sand and rust…he’d forgotten about them…no, he could never forget about them. As hard as he tried, he’d never be able to forget…the best he’d been able to do was to forget where he’d put them.
The memories came rushing back into his mind, as if he were a human who’d regained a death note after losing ownership.
Nu stood on the rocky, broken ground, listening. Although the vents had been blocked and hadn’t made the shinigami realm any warmer or colder since then, she could still feel them rumbling under her feet. Once the struggle had started, she’d known that things would be getting too loud, too busy…that was why she was so far out. Her senses wouldn’t have been able to take it. Her super sensory perception was too strong…so strong that it was more of a curse than a blessing. Even though she was a hundred miles away, Nu could still see the King’s tower. She could also hear the scream within it…one that spoke of hundreds of years of pain, rage, loss, and grief…
“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…that it had to be this way…”
Nu blinked. “Not nearly sorry enough,” she said out loud, not caring that the King was far too distant to hear her. “After what you did, there isn’t enough sorrow in existence for you to feel enough of it…”
Justin hadn’t looked back at the first page of his death note since he’d written on it all those centuries ago, and he’d forgotten what he’d written in the first place…there were no human names, so far as he could tell. Just phrases, some only partially completed, with pictures of stickmen and stickman parts hanging from crudely drawn gallows. Justin felt something stir in the back of his mind as he looked at two half-done phrases near the bottom. One of them read JUS_ _N SME_ _S, in clumsy, childish writing, and the other said E_T D_RT FED_R…hangman. Justin didn’t know how he knew, but as sure as he knew his own name, he knew that the drawings and phrases were a game called hangman. Something else was trying to surface in his mind, something…Justin closed his eyes and concentrated, before the memory could slip away, trying to bring it into focus… “Dad.” Yes, something about “Dad”… “Stop fighting, you two!”… “But, Dad…”
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