Alright I really need to apologize to everyone who took the time to read the original version of 'Precious'. The writing was terrible, L was a total OC, and the storyline made no sense, going around in circles. And then I read the notice I had posted over two years ago, saying I refused to update because of lack of reviews. I read that, and thought to myself, 'the audacity!' Here I was complaining because there were barely any reviews, and it was because the story sucked!

So now I'm reposting again, and if you are a person who read the original and have come to read the re-write, I thank you and apologize, and hope I will not suck as much this time. The storyline has become a bit altered, and as 'too lazy to login' reviewed, Kairi is a major Mary Sue. So I've tried to sketch her out a bit more. Hopefully the re-write will capture more good attention than its predecessor did.

So bear in mind that the story has been re-vamped, and new scenes have been added while others have been taken away. Also, my nickname is Kairi, and I'm sorry, but I'm sick and tired to death of hearing it. So my old OC Kairi is now referred to as Serenity. I know, I know. Again, I apologize. Now, enough of my blabbing. Here ya go.

It all started in a hometown bakery in Plattsmouth, Nebraska…

Ding, ding.

Okay, just a few more lines. I need to get this paragraph down before I forget…I scribbled on the small notepad as fast as I could. I had just thought up an awesome character for my next chapter, and there was no way I was getting up without finishing.

Ding, ding.

"C'mon, just a few more minutes," I murmured, my tongue sticking out slightly in concentration as I ignored any risks of fracturing my wrist as I speed-wrote. All I needed was a few-

DING DING DING DING!

Oh my god I was officially starting to hate that bell. Okay, so I was taking a few minutes in the back room to scribble down a few brainstorms. And okay, maybe I was supposed to be up front, serving fattening pastries to overweight old farts. But what was the rush? It's not like the donuts and coffee was going anywhere. My train of thought, however, was.

You see, I'm going to be the world's best novelist. There's no iffs, ands, or butts about it. I was born to be a novelist, and there's no way I'm going to interfere with destiny! What I really want to write about, however, is L. He's like this awesome detective, but no one knows anything about him! Other than that he's taken on thousands of cases, and never once came across a mystery he couldn't solve. That'd be the life, writing stories about L. It's my dream, really. But do you know how incredibly hard it is, not knowing anything about him? The most I've been able to do is follow his cases on the news, and piece in the puzzle with bits of fiction. I imagine him to be incredibly handsome, with-

DING DING!

"Okay, okay!" I groaned, and threw down my pen. "Freakin pixie sticks of the lords above!" Mumbling a few more choice words, I flung the door open and stepped out behind the counter where the scent of homemade frosting socked my nose up into my brain. Shoving my face into my elbow, I sneezed horrendously. Sniffing loudly, I lowered my arm to see the weirdest looking hobo waiting on me.

That was probably mean, but it was the first word that came to mind. Hobo. Okay, let me ask you this. If a guy with wild black hair that looked like it hadn't seen a brush and a pair of scissors in years, beat up shoes that were falling apart, baggy jeans, a long white shirt, and wild eyes approached you on the streets, wouldn't you automatically think 'omg hobo!'?

Okay, maybe that's just me, but you get the point. I didn't like this guy for two reasons; one, he looked like a hobo on crack, what with the dark circles under his eyes. Two, the way he was looking at me. Like he was very irritated with me for keeping him from the holy donuts and pastries that lie in the glass case. Like I was doing him a wrong injustice. Not to mention his rude dinging, disrupting me from my daydreams of L. The nerve of some people...

"May I help you?" I asked, trying to not return the hobo's impolite glare.

He frowned at me. "I should think that when sweets are involved, the customer service would be quite more helpful."

"Well," I began testily, "I was in the middle of the something. I apologize. Now can I please offer you something to eat or drink?"

He eyed me suspiciously. "What exactly was so time consuming?"

I gave him the evil eye in return. "I don't think that's any of your business. What is your business is if you are going to make a purchase, or waste my time scolding and annoying me."

The hobo dude opened his mouth to say something further, and then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he said, "This is going to be a very large order, so I suggest using your largest size to-go boxes."

So first this dude was going to interrupt my super duper writing, then chew me out about not doing my job, and finally just take the liberty of telling me how to do my job? I'd eat my cookie-covered socks before obliging this guy. Besides, he didn't look like he'd have enough money to buy much of anything anyway. "I think I'll be the judge of that," I replied coolly.

For a moment his hardened gunmetal eyes gazed at me, and I felt a chill run down my spine. This guy was definitely creepy. "Fine. I've taken the liberty of already having a list written up."

Good, I thought. The less conversation with this guy, the better. I stretched my hand over the top of the glass case for the crumpled piece of paper he'd pulled from his jeans. Instead of dropping it in my hand, he placed on the countertop in front of my hand. What the heck? I'm sorry, hasn't someone had their rabies shot? Making a disgusted sound in the back of my throat, I unfolded the creased list. And gasped.

It read as the following:

Stan's Bakery

126 S 6th St

45 custard filled

23 éclairs

14 apple fritters

55 strawberry filled

40 raspberry filled

20 coconut long johns

20 peanut long johns

20 toasted peanut long johns

115 sprinkle donuts

90 double chocolate cake donuts

55 chocolate frosted donuts

100 glazed donuts

50 glazed cake donuts

55 cinnamon cake donuts

15 plain cake donuts

17 orders of glazed donut holes

65 chocolate rolls

60 cinnamon rolls

70 lemon filled powdered sugar bismarks

20 blueberry muffins

35 cinnamon knots

30 frosted cinnamon rolls

76 chocolate glazed cake donuts

4 pecan rolls

This was humongous! The order of all orders! I doubted we had enough dough to fill these requests. I gaped at the hobo who thought he could pay for all this. "D-do you realize how much you're asking for?"

The strange, apparently hungry man showed me something similar to a smirk. "About your largest boxes…"

I gave him a sheepish half-smile in apology. "Yeah…Sorry. Umm one moment please." I turned over and pressed the button for the intercom connected in the back baking room. "Uh Trina? You should come out here."

There was the cackling response of the intercom, then "Yes, one sec Ren."

I turned back to the eccentric man, who must have been increasingly hungry, because he was starting to gnaw on his thumb. I must've let my gaze linger too long, because he looked up and caught me staring. "Ren, as in the Japanese word for water lily?"

I blinked. I hadn't known that. "No. Ren as in Serenity, like peaceful or calm."

The man made an indignant noise, as if laughing at my name. "Well what's yours then, Mr. High And Mighty?"

Without missing a beat, he answered, "Ryuuzaki."

I thought for a moment. "Nope. No clue."

His head tilted down, and then back up. Some of his jet black bangs had swept across his face, and I could just barely make out his eyes. "'Ryu' comes from the Japanese phrase 'third son of Ryo' in Japanese and 'Zaki' translates into bright, or pure, in Arabic," he murmured softly.

Wow, I thought. This guy knows his stuff. "Interesting. So are you like, half Japanese, half Arabic?"

A small, faint smile crossed his lips, as if I'd said something particularly amusing. "Not exactly."

Suddenly the door banged open and Trina sped over to me. She had this sort of energy, always zipping around, that was sometimes useful, and others just plain annoying, especially when she was my boss. We had about an hour before closing time, so her straw-colored hair was already sticking out in tufts, having escaped her once-tightly wound bun, and her small silver glasses kept slipping down the bridge of her nose. Trina was okay, most of the time. But she was not good at keeping her head during stressful situations, and I had a feeling this counted as a very stressful situation.

"What is it Ren?" Trina asked, looking from me to Ryuuzaki. I almost laughed out loud, because as soon as she laid eyes on him it was apparent by the look on her face that her first impression wasn't too far off from my own.

"This, is it," I handed her the list.

"Oh my w-" She didn't get to finish that last word, haha, because as soon as she scanned the first few lines, her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she became rather well acquainted with the floor. Trina, meet floor. Floor, meet Trina.

"Oh geez," I said, along with another few choice words. "Trina. Trina!" I nudged her side with the toe of my sneaker, but the only response I got was a soft moan. "Great. Just great." I had absolutely no clue what to do in this situation. Probably remove her body from behind the counter.

Grabbing her shoulders, I started to drag her around the edge of the cabinet upon which the register sat. For a small, petite woman, dang was she hard to drag! Grunting unattractively with the effort, I closed my eyes and-

Nearly flew backwards. I had prepared to heave backwards with all my might, and then it was like Trina was as light as she looked. My eyes snapped open, and I gawked at Ryuuzaki, who was holding up Trina's legs in the air. He gazed simply back at me. "You…looked like you needed assistance."

Snapping out of it, I nodded. "Yeah..Thanks. Just follow me over here.." We awkwardly carried Trina through the air and finally laid her on a booth in the back room. I let out a breath as we set her down. "Thanks, err, Ryuuzaki." Maybe he wasn't that bad after all. For a hobo.

He shoved his hands back into his pockets, hunching his back as he stood. His gaze stayed at the tiles.

I decided that while I waited for Trina to come back to planet earth, I'd let the guys in the back know we needed to start up the ovens, and pronto. I left Ryuuzaki with Trina and disappeared into the back where the baking was done. "Hey, Joel. We need to get it into gear. We have the biggest order that has ever been placed at this establishment."

Joel, a striking 35 year-old with two o'clock shadow, looked over at me with gray, stormy eyes. "How many of what?"

I laughed. "Just start as making as much of everything as you can. We're going to have to close shop after this order."

Joel nodded, and went to stick a pan of glazed donuts in the oven. I spun around, and introduced my face to Ryuuzaki's chest. "Aah!" I started, and stumbled back. "Don't do that! You want me to faint right along with Trina?"

Ryuuzaki frowned, and actually considered my question. "No..Then I'd have to carry you as well."

I scoffed. "Well thanks a lot!" I brushed past him and walked back into the lobby. "Well, your order is going to take, um, a while to put together. In the meantime, I can ring you up."

He followed me back into the lobby, and nodded. "Yes, I suppose that can be arranged."

I looked at the huge list once more. "Okay, this might take a minute. Wow…Are you throwing you a party or something?" I began entering figures into the register.

"No…"

My eyes flickered over to his. "Just really hungry, huh?"

He shrugged, and I turned back to my calculations. "Oh you can have a seat you don't have to stand there."

Ryuuzaki ambled over to one of the booths, and sat in the weirdest position I have ever seen in my life. He was crouched forward, with his knees up to his chest in another sort of hunch. "You're going to have very bad back problems later on, you know that, don't you?"

"I have to sit like this. If I do not, my reasoning skills will drop 40%."

Okay maybe I was wrong yet again. This guy was weird. But then again, we were getting our biggest sale ever. I pressed total on the register, and blinked. "Um, Ryuuzaki?"

His less antagonistic eyes slid over to me. "Yes?"

"Y-you're total is $669.35." I held my breath, waiting for his gasp, or stare, or some sort of reaction opposite of what I got.

"Very well," he said, without batting an eyelash. As if he placed orders like this all the time. "Should I pay up front, or when my order is completed?" He began to reach into his pocket, for his wallet, I assumed, as if knowing my reply.

I'd show him. "Oh, no worries. You can pay later. No sweat." And maybe, just maybe, I'd get to see this strange, rich non-hobo person again. My author's mind was already jotting down details to record at a later date. "Well, in the meantime, I need to finish up a few things."

He mumbled something incoherent.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," He replied smoothly.

Walking over to empty tables, I collected dirtied coffee mugs and empty sweetener packets, all while eyeing Ryuuzaki. I couldn't imagine what a possibly rich hobo such as himself would be doing at such a small bakery in Plattsmouth, Nebraska. Stan's Hometown Bakery, owned by Laura and Vern Madenblick. The desserts were good, and we also served breakfast, but the place wasn't much to look at. Peeling yellow paint, cracked tiles, and brick walls in the dining extension. Still, there was never a dull day, and it provided the perfect place to work, with meeting and seeing new people, inspiring new characters. Such as Ryuuzaki.

A light bulb flashed over my head. I quickly raced over to where our neon "OPEN" sign was plugged into the outlet in the wall. Yanking the cord out, I glanced outside. No one was stopping by, thank god. In the meantime, the sun was smiling down on my little town, and people riding bikes zipped by. In just a short time I would be out there, joining them, feeling the sun soak into my skin, the breeze in my hair, an idea burs-

"May I have a cup of coffee?" Ryuuzaki's voice startled me out of my wishful daydream. My gaze slid over to him, and I frowned. He seemed even paler than when I'd first seen him, sickly even. "Please. I would be deeply grateful." His eyes bore into mine, pleading. How curious..

I gave him a half smile. "Sure. On the house. Regular or decaf?"

He grimaced at the mention of decaf coffee. "Decaffeinated coffee is like candy without sugar. The idea is merely ridiculous."

I chuckled. "That'll be regular, then." Pouring a steaming cup of coffee from the craft at the coffee station, I slowly walked over to him, making sure not to spill any. "Here you are." I set the cup down.

He immediately began tearing at the sugar packets in the dispenser on the table and pouring heaps of sugar in. Soon the dispenser was empty. He looked up at me. "I don't suppose you'd have more?"

I stared at him for a moment. Just how much sugar did he need? "Look, we don't like wasting supplies here just for the-"

"Excuse me, but I am a customer here. Unless you wish me to take my order somewhere else, I highly suggest you fetch more sugar." There was that glare again. How tempting it would be to just smack it off…

Trina would murder me several times over if I lost his business..But still… "Well, excuse me, but I am a person, and you have no right to talk to me that way."

He snorted. "Yes, because your customer service has been top-notch."

"Oh, and you've just been a pleasure to serve as well!" I huffed. Grabbing the nearest sugar shaker, I slammed it down in front of the infuriating hobo. "Here's your damn sugar! Enjoy!" Spinning on my heel, I stomped into the back room.

Just who did he think he was, anyway? The Queen of Sheba? The President? L? Pft. How was I supposed to be courteous, when he was behaving like a jerk that I just happened to be a wad of gum on his shoes? At least I looked presentable! Okay, my black top and jeans were a bit dishelved, but I'd been working for almost five hours in 85® heat. At least I wasn't a hobo! God, he made me so angry, I could just deck him. That'd teach him to mess with me.

Sitting in a chair in the darkness of my private writing room (okay, it was just a storage room with a curtain for privacy, but I'll take what I can get) I sighed. If only I could just get back to writing. Figuring why not, I picked up my pad and began furiously scribbling. I was so concentrated in my work that I jumped a foot in the air and gave out a small yelp when a hand grabbed my shoulder.

"Ohmehgosh what the hell! Who's there?" I squinted to make out the unfamiliar figure in the dark.

"I apologize for frightening you. And for my rude behavior." It was him. His voice was soft, like dark velvet mixed with…flowing water. And he sounded sincere.

"Th-that's quite alright. I wasn't the happiest person to be around anyhow. How…how long have you been standing there?"

There was a long stretch of silence, and when I'd given up on hearing a reply, he answered, "Not very long. Enough to see you writing."

Why did I have the feeling he was lying? Being in the dark with a irritating, rich, somewhat polite hobo was starting to creep me out…Trina wasn't up and moving yet, and I wasn't going to take any chances. "Erm, I shoud, well, probably go back out bef-"

"Ren? REN?" I spoke too soon. There was Trina's shrill voice.

Slipping past Ryuuzaki, I strode back into the main room where Trina was staring at me. "Did I…Was that…Hallucintaion?"

Ryuuzaki popped out from behind me. "No ma'am, I did place that order."

Her eyes widened, and I shouted "Don't faint! Again.."

Emitting a shriek, Trina raced into the back baking room. "Oh my word! Joel! Joel!"

The hobo chuckled slightly. "Well, I'm afraid I must be off. I have some packing to attend to, so I'll suppose I'll have someone pick up my order tommorrow." He started heading toward the door.

"Wait!" I called after him. He stopped walking, and turned back to look at me. "Yes?"

"Um, well.." I hadn't really know what to say…It was one of those moments, you know, insert foot into mouth? "Uh, how will I know who it is?"

"You'll know." He proceeded to start walking again.

"But that's a big order! Do you trust someone to give them that kind of money?"

"Yes." He didn't break his stride.

I was grabbing at straws here. "But…"

He abruptly stopped and turned around. "Is there some ulterior motive for you wishing to see me again?"

I felt my face start to blush. That was true, but when he put it like that…"Erm…no! I'm glad I won't have to see you again!" I spun around and began determindly walking away from him.

Okay, I couldn't resist peeking at him. He was frowning at the floor, as if it had just said something rather rude. A few moments later, he walked out of the shop. Forever?

This bakery is actually a real bakery in Plattsmouth, Nebraska called Stan's Bakery, actually owned by said people. However, Trina and Joel are fictional; the only people employed other than Laura and Vern, and their daughter and son-in-law who occassionally help out, were my mom, myself, and the janitor named Freddy. All the products are real and very delicious, and L's total was deduced based on actual prices (ranging from .65-.85).

I had fun looking up the names as well. It took me forever to decide on a new name for 'Kairi'. Although 'Serenity's' meanings aren't really working for her.. Oh, I've decided to insert chapters from Ren's journal, so that'll be the next post.

Also, thanks to Cameron Kennedy in her story Life After Death Note for the 'L's a hobo!' idea! XD

Hate? Like? Indifferent? Click the blue button!