literature

L.A.B.B ch3:When Back Ups Fail

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Eight. Eight days had passed since Beyond's plan had been put into motion. No...no, that isn't right. His plan had been in action for years, since he had learned what Watari had kept from him, learned the awful the truth that had sealed his fate.
It wasn't enough to give him such a disgraceful name, not enough to give him the second letter, not enough to deem him just a copy. No. They had to go further, cut him deeper, slice his being, take every thing away from him and tear it to shreds, leaving only his core and destroying that too.
"B, could you come in my office for a moment? There's something you should be told."
Beyond's hands curled into fists at his side at the memory. He kept his head bent, hiding his expression from the other passengers on the train. The look wasn't hateful, wasn't angry, it was both, a mix between the two and something else.

The raven-haired copy cat looked up from his test and turned to the door where Watari, where  Quillsh Wammy, stood in the doorway of the class room. Naturally, everyone looked up, not just Back Up, but he was the only one to respond.
"Yes sir." He stood, folding his test paper in half to protect his answers, and left with it in hand.
Watari remained silent. He opened the door with out a word, and Back Up went inside with out question. The man meant a lot too him, even though he regarded B from a distance, rarely speaking to him alone. "What is it, sir?"
Watari said nothing. He merely walked over to his desk and sat down, opening a laptop as he did so. When he turned it around, B saw the almost blank white screen, the only thing breaking the white sheet was a black L in Gothic print.
The boy's breathing hitched, he had only been addressed from his predecessor twice, neither in person, and once while he spoke to his whole class. This was the second time he was being spoken to personally by his idol, his mirror image, his only reason to be. When he spoke, it wasn't even a whisper, merely a breath that no one else would be able to hear, "L."
"I'm glad you could come." The voice was scrambled, synthetic, it very well could be just a computer program instead of flesh and bone behind that screen. But Back Up knew better. He had heard the stories of the greatest Wammy child, been told of his achievements, how important he was to the whole world even when they rejected him. B knew that on the other end of that line was teenager not much older than himself, someone that, according to what he has been told, has messy black hair like his and hardly eats anything healthy, someone that had stopped World War lll when he was just a boy.


Beyond knew this memory. He knew it all too well and wished he didn't. It was like watching an old horror film over and over again, knowing the out come but still unable to look away, unable to stop the film before the cruel, painful, horrible end. He kept his head bowed.

"Back Up, or shall I call you B? No, never mind, B is better for this." L stated through the computer, not giving the boy enough time to anwer.

He shook slightly, trying to keep still. He kept forcing his head down, letting his jet-black hair block out his eyes and mouth, not willing to let the world see his face. Refusing to show his expression.

Back Up just stood there, rooted to the spot. Even though he was only four feet or so into the room, he heard every scrambled word, hanging on them for dear life.
"There is something that should be told to you in person, but due to my current case, I am unable to do so, please excuse this." Though it seemed a rhetorical request, for he never gave the poor boy a chance to respond, continuing in such a way that made it paifully clear it didn't matter one way or another if he was forgiven. "You and A are next in line to be my successors, as you know. Nothing will change for him. Though, if his progress continues at it's current rate, he may not be fit to be the next L."
"Not fit.." It wasn't a question, it was hardly a statement, barely more than a whisper, Watari might not even have heard it but that didn't matter. A had done everything possible to become worthy of the title 'L'. He was top in his class, just as B was top in his, he solved every puzzle faster than everyone else but B, who always finished at about the same time. He solved his cases faster than B did half the time, and though it pained him to say it, A could very well beat him in the long run. But there was one difference between them, one key factor that would separate A from his goal; A wasn't doing all this to succeed L, he wanted to surpass him, to be greater, rise to the top and leave the useless letter in the dust. Something Back Up would never think of doing. His name told him all he needed too, he was never meant to surpass L, only get as close to him as he could, be a back up disk if anything ever happened to the original program, and sometimes, while the others picked on him relentlessly, hurting him, mocking him, breaking him, he took pride in his name. He was meant to be the next in line. What about H? What was the fate of Y? It didn't matter, they would never be L, they only had letters, not destiny.


The killer glared at the ground for a moment, diverting away from his original expression to hate himself and his own stupidity. Remembering how naive he had been, how trusting and foolish, the pride he had felt at being a fucking prototype, it made him sick.

"And so," L said, snapping Back Up out of his thoughts, "It seems that...perhaps I will have to wait to choose my heir."
Wait? But that made no sense, he had just said that A and B were next in line, L's heir was to be one of them and both were capable, why wait? "Why would you wait? You said you would chose between the two of us when the time came, you said that just two moths ago, you said a moment ago that we were next in line, even if A isn't fit, I'm still-"
"Yes, I am aware of this." L interjected, cutting him off. The detective knew what was going threw B's head and B knew it. "But what I am saying, B, is that you are not going to be my heir. Not ever, I'm afraid."
The room went quite. No one moved. Even the birds had silenced their songs out side.
Back Up's heart stopped beating and his blood ran cold. In one sentence, the center of his universe had tore him in two. B felt as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest and crushed.


Even now, all these years later, Beyond still felt that pain. It was suffocating.

He was drowning. Everything he had worked for, everything he had ever done or said or believed, worthless. Gone. Taken away in his final years at the House, dangled in front of him teasingly only to be snatched out of his reach in the final stretch. All he could do was stand there motionless, not even breathing. "...What?" His voice was desperate and cracked, pleading for this to  be a lie or a sick joke.
No one was laughing.
"You have been proven to be unstable, B, frighteningly so, to the point where it could prove harmful or even dangerous to others depending on the situation. It is, in fact, one of the reasons I have yet to visit Wammy's House in person for quite some time. I'm sorry, but you will never become L." The voice was monotone. Empty. Uncaring. Even through a scrambled computer voice, Back Up knew L wasn't sorry. The first generation had only been a test, B was little more than a single prototype out of many, all of them would have glitches, they had expected to fail. And he was no different.
"Your name can be changed if you wish, 'Back Up' is clearly no longer your title and it seems inappropriate for you to keep it. Though B would be perfectly fine."
He wasn't meant to be the next in line. He was just like all the others. What of H? What was Y's fate? Who cared what happened to B? It didn't matter any more.
Nothing did.


Beyond couldn't take it any more, at that he forced his mind to shut down. He kept his head down, hiding his torn expression. When the train stopped, he was the first one off. B never said a word as he walked the streets, wondering to his temporary home that was kept under an assumed name. Never once did he ever let anyone see his face.
He walked up the stairs automatically, not missing a step.
The look wasn't hateful,
He opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him.
it wasn't angry,
He dragged his feet across the floor, bumping into a side table but taking no notice.
it was both,
He collapsed on the old couch, slouching in his seat.
a mix between the two and something else.
He refused to think about the rest of the conversation, if you could call it that, B had hardly said a word, none of them were things he was proud of. This memory was enough to make him kill himself, the thought had pestered him more than once.
The expression was hurt, betrayed like a loyal dog that had been beaten to near death by it's owner for no good reason.
On that day, Back Up had died.
And Beyond Birthday was born.
L.A.B.B Murders, Chapter Three: When Back Ups Fail

1st: [link]
2nd:[link]
3rd: what do you think you're reading, bud? ;)


just read it, idk how to describe it.
OH! and in case this makes you mad at L, im sorry, really <:/ im an L fangirl, so im not trying to make you hate him, just tried to keep im I.C and lets face it, he isn't subtle with things like this..
i tried to seperate memory from reality by skipping lines, if you couldnt tell. *i dont know how to make the slanted letters, sorry* so, yeah, when BB clenched his hands into fists and kept his head down, that was in the REAL WORLD, he hates this memory almost enough to kill himself. when he went with watari it was a MEMORY. THE WHOLE TIME HE HID HIS FACE WAS IN THE REAL WORLD.
thank you for you time ^ ^
~~~~~~~~
GUESS WHAT PEOPLES! i fixed it :3
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Sia-Kouro's avatar
Neat story, but poor beyondT^T loved the story tho^-^