1919, Aomori Prefecture, Japan.
There in the night a boy looks up at the moon. His eyes shine like jewels, yet to be tainted by corruption.
This boy wore a green kimono, with a yellow haori too large for him.
The boy sat in front of his parents' inn. He had his legs up to his chest and he bit his thumb, watching the other children of guests play. They played tag, the chaotic energy filling the children with a desire to win.
The boy smiled, biting his finger nail off. With that the last child had been tagged.
"Arata! Please come and help your father serve the guests food!"
The boy snickered and got up.
"Yes mother! I'm coming!"
This boy was Arata Shirogane, 12 year old son of the Shirogane Inn in the Aomori Prefecture. He truly is the definition of a genius. At his age he was already on a level of thinking that far surpassed anyone his age. Though that was a blessing and a curse.
You see, Arata always tries to find a challenge in anything. Whether it's in shogi, tag, or even Haiku. He wanted a challenge, but he never got it. There had been many nights when he wished upon a star, asking for a challenge.
Unaware that his wish would soon be granted.
Arata helped his mother serve the guests, getting thanked by many.
Arata after finishing then asked his father if it was ok to go to his office room. Arata's father sighed and giggled.
"Oh my little Arata. You truly are like your grandpa. You can never stay away from studying!"
Arata's father patted Arata on the head, causing Arata to make a pouty face.
"Father, I'm already 12 years old! Stop doing that!" Arata said, angry his father refused to treat him like he was older.
"Ah whatever son! I love you!"
With that Arata walked away, frustrated with his father.
'Stupid dad! Doing that like I'm five!'
Arata opened the door to the office, going inside and looking at the bookshelves. Arata's mother had a habit of buying books when going to the market, usually buying books she found with interesting titles.
As Arata looked at the bookshelves, going through to find one that caught his eyes. He got to the shelf beside his father's desk and looked at the very bottom row. There was only one book.
Arata, curious about it, bent down and grabbed the book.
The title was in a language he had studied last year! It was spanish! And the book read.
Aviso de muerte, or otherwise known as Death Note.
'Death Note? Some kind of thriller or mystery book?'
He opened the book. Only to get blank pages to greet him. He looked on the left on the inside. There was more spanish.
'What the hell? The Human's name who is written in this notebook shall die, if you do not specify how they die then in the next 45 seconds they will have a heart attack.'
The office was completely silent before Arata began to laugh.
He couldn't help himself. The idea was absurd.
Arata then stopped laughing. Though he found the idea ridiculous there was a sense of curiosity.
'I mean the idea sounds foolish, but still…..it's an interesting concept.'
Arata smiled and bit his finger nail. Indeed he was now very intrigued. Though his question now was, for how long?