Watari returned to find L and Bean on the couch. L sat as he normally did with his feet and knees brought up to himself, and Bean sat with his legs straight out in front of him, as they were too small to bend over the edge of the cushion. L held a teacup and saucer and Bean held a glass of milk in both hands. The two of them looked up when Watari entered.

"Hello," the old man greeted warmly as he removed his coat. "Did you have a nice afternoon?"

"We played chess," Bean quipped.

Watari smiled. "Oh, that sounds very nice. I love chess."

"Yes," L said, looking at the little figure beside him and delicately holding his teacup and saucer. "He picked it up surprisingly quickly."

"Surprisingly?" Watari asked, chuckling. "He is your son, L."

L didn't respond. He couldn't seem to stop watching little Bean, who was finishing off his glass of milk.

Bean tipped his head way back, holding the glass with both hands. Then he lowered it to his lap, his little tongue swiping across the milk mustache on his upper lip.

Something likened to a smile lifted one corner of L's mouth. He reached over to the tray on the coffee table and picked up a napkin.

"Look at me," he said. Bean did, and L gently dabbed at the milky face. Then he took the glass and set it and the napkin down on the coffee table before stepping off the couch and shoving his hands into his pockets. Bean shimmied off the couch too, and lifted a drawstring to his mouth before pocketing his own little hands in his hoodie.

"Did he eat anything?" Watari asked.

L shook his head. "No."

Watari looked at Bean and smiled warmly. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

Bean bobbed his head up and down, his hair flopping under his dark green hood.

"Okay, go sit in the kitchen and I'll make lunch," Watari told him.

Bean looked up at L.

"Papa too?"

Before L could answer, Watari said kindly, "Your papa has some important things to do, but he'll still be here when you're done."

Bean seemed satisfied with that answer and moved with quick and tiny steps toward the kitchen.

Watari stepped up to L and his eyes creased into a proud smile. "How are you doing?" he asked in a fatherly tone.

L shrugged, his eyes never leaving his small son, who was climbing up to sit at the kitchen table. "He seems like a good kid," he said.

"He does," Watari agreed. "She did a good job, didn't she?"

At the mention of Anya, L's eyes moved to meet Watari's. He didn't reply.

With a sigh, Watari reached into his jacket and pulled out a long, thick envelope and held it out to L. "She wrote this," he said gently. "It was to go to Bennett's foster family."

L looked down at the envelope and then back up at Watari. Slowly, his hand came out of its pocket, and he accepted the letter.

Watari pressed a hand encouragingly to L's arm before turning and heading toward the kitchen.

L stood for a few moments, watching as Bean sat patiently, waiting for his lunch and making small talk with Watari. Then he turned to climb back up on the couch and opened the envelope.

Inside was a hand-written letter and a smaller envelope stuffed with photos. L opened the letter first. Bringing a thumbnail to his teeth, he began to read.

To Bennett's New Family,

My name is Anya. I don't have much time, but I want you to know a little about my sweet Bean.

He is a good boy, but he requires a few simple things to make life a little easier for him.

You've probably noticed that he wears a hood all the time. This is because his peripheral vision provides a little bit too much sensory input for him to handle, and shrinking his field of vision helps him stay focused.

He likes to chew on the drawstrings too- and that's okay! Please let him do this. His little left hand ticks pretty badly sometimes, and having something in his mouth helps manage that.

Also, if he begins to show signs of anxiety, put on some music. He loves it, and it usually calms him down.

Bennett loves puzzles and stories. You'll find that he asks lots of questions- my Bean loves to learn! He likes to be challenged. Play games with him! Teach him new things.

But above all, please love my little boy. He is the only thing in this world that I will regret leaving behind. Please remind him often that his Mama loved him.

Whoever you are, I hope and pray that my Bennett brings you the joy that he has brought me.

-Anya

P.S.- Enclosed are some photos. Please keep them safe, and let Bennett look at them often.

L finished reading. That strange ache was in his chest again.

He set the letter down and opened the envelope of photos, each of which had been carefully pasted onto a colored square of paper and captioned by hand.

The first photo was a grainy, black and white sonogram photo of Bennett's tiny profile. Underneath it was written, Can't wait to meet you!

L stared at the little unborn face. Even then, he could see it... that was his jawline, his nose. This was all so surreal.

He moved on to the next photo. It was of a very pregnant Anya in a hospital gown giving a perky two-thumbs-up to the camera. The caption read, You're almost here!!

And the next photo showed Anya, sitting cross-legged on a hospital cot and holding a tiny bundle up face-to-face before her. The smile on her face was radiant as her shining blue eyes looked at the sleeping newborn with the full head of thick, black hair.

One by one, L flipped slowly through the photos and watched his son grow up.

Finally, he reached the very last picture, and this one he looked at for a long time.

This one was very recent. It was clear that Anya's health had deteriorated, nevertheless, her smile was broad and genuine. She was kneeling down with one arm outstretched, holding the camera. Her other arm was wrapped around Bean, pulling him in close to her, and both of his hands held hers on his tummy. Their cheeks were pressed together and Bennett, with his little hood up, was grinning around the drawstrings in his teeth. The caption read, I love you, sweet Bean! Be good. -Mama

L had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach as he returned the photos and the letter to the larger envelope. He stood to his bare feet and looked into the kitchen with one hand pocketed.

Watari and Bean sat across from one another at the little round table. The old man appeared to be telling a story. Bean pointed a sticky, peanut buttery finger and said something around the bite of sandwich in his mouth that L didn't quite catch, but he heard Watari chuckle. It seemed as though those two would be getting along just fine.

L looked down at the envelope in his hand. He swallowed hard.

Of course he wasn't ready to be a father.

But the young street girl from Moscow hadn't been ready to be a mother. She had done her best, and nothing less. Surely, L could do the same... for their son.

He tightened his grip on the envelope, as if doing so would somehow send a final message.

"You did well, Anya," he said quietly. "I'll take it from here."