The upcoming November 5th is a new anniversary of the death of two geniuses. At my age, I have lost many loved persons, but I didn't become immune to grief. For sure my end is coming too, as this body refuses to function as before; maybe I will end with a heart attack, but Kira won't be responsible of it.
Now I'm called Watari, but actually my name has always been Roger Ruvie. I have the honor of representing the wonderful man who was Quillsh Wammy. The orphanage children watch his photography as a curiosity, not knowing that his benefactor, besides being a renowned inventor and a national hero, was a lovable human. About the extraordinary L, the first to use that letter as identification, what can I say? The rest of the world ignore that he already left this existence, because Near took his place with great success, and also found a follower. It would be a shame you never got to know the origin of the detective who inspired so many people; just like everyone, he had a father and a mother, and indeed, I was in charge of searching them. My report on the peculiar pair mysteriously disappeared, but I can recreate it with enough fidelity.
I kept these secrets, thinking of the safety of the people involved, but it's been a while, and no one could be affected. I write this chronicle with the intention of giving a legacy of knowledge to my dear people of Wammy's House... and because I can not bear the burden of conscience. It was me who turned the orphanage into a recruitment center for successors of L, claiming he needed a disciple to keep his skills exploited in favor of justice, but my real intentions were different…Although between Quillsh and me was a difference of only six years of age, I regarded him as a father, because he saw talent in me and grew it. He entrusted me the administration of his most beloved institution, but I took it to disaster! I didn't want to preserve L's career, but was interested in showing that the strange child was not as special as everyone thought. He stole the attention of Mr. Wammy, so I forced the inmates to study to death, anxious to get a better genius. I am very embarrassed by it, and apologize to those who damaged, though nothing can bring back the small A, Alex Brown, who took his own life when couldn't withstand the pressure. And what about Beyond Birthday? he ended his days in prison, as a ruthless murderer. I can not hold back the tears at the memory of Mihael Keehl, my dear blonde brawler; sometimes I hear again his mischievous laugh through the halls of the house. I felt for him a special love, because he was with me since a baby. He possesed the qualities to be an excellent researcher anywhere in the world; if he wasn't obsessed for surpassing his mentor, now he would be enjoying the success he deserved. It's too bad that Mello can't read this text, because I doubt he knew the full version of "The Winchester Mad Bombings Case".
I will make a bow to the ones who are gone, hoping their example live in those who read these memoirs.