Title: Lonely One
Summary: "You're Number One to me. Isn't that good enough?"
Disclaimer: I don't own DN.
Author's Note: A classic plot told in a different manner.
...
Like an itch you can't scratch, the feeling is there. Like a laceration that just won't scab over and heal, it's there. And like a sex addict, nude and pressing his genitalia to the glass just to show the world how sick he is, it's pretty hard to miss.
Something was wrong at Wammy's.
It was something everyone was able to notice, but no one could put a proper label on it.
Seemingly over night Number One had fallen into Third place in the WARS (Wammy's Academic Ranking System).
Number One (well, the previous Number One) was an energetic ball of nerves, an endless chatterbox with a mind that was constantly expanding, collapsing and renewing with a self-contained sort of evolution.
His biggest flaw -well, he had two- he was easily distracted, and he was strangely obsessed with the blonde boy who ranked two slots below him on the WARS leaderboard.
What could have happened? What was so odd as to put everyone in Wammy's on edge and dethrone a particular redhead from being First? No one quite knew... but test day came and went like any other, and when the results were posted, everything changed.
WARS
1st NEAR
2nd MELLO
3rd MATT
etc...
The week before, Matt had been First. He had been anxious and excited and always looking for something new to entertain his brain and move him forward in some manner. A genius above geniuses.
Then, literally overnight, he dropped two rankings, stopped being so anxious, stopped trying to learn new things, stopped doing much of anything.
This left a pale bratty child in First and an angry Mello in Second.
And Mello was so angry. Sure, he always wanted to be First and eventually succeed the infamous L, but that was something to be expected; he wasn't necessarily angry about the fact that he had to try harder. In fact, he liked having something to strive for, truth be told. No, what angered him was two things. One, Near being in first. (He absolutely hated that big headed twit!) And two, he couldn't understand why Matt had quit when he was so easily ahead in the game before.
This didn't just affect Mello, the blonde soon realized as he loafed from hall to hall and class to class throughout the day. Other students were all huddled close, all in their nice neat little cliques, all whispering too loudly about Matt's sudden lack of motivation.
Theories circulated.
Perhaps Matt had a brain tumor and lost all his smarts.
Perhaps he's only been lucky so far and his luck's run out.
Maybe Matt's lazy.
Perhaps Near and Mello just studied extra hard.
But Mello knew better. The redhead had been his roommate for a few months now, and he'd noticed a steady decline, though he hadn't thought it appropriate to bring it up.
It started with hygiene. Matt just stopped combing his hair, seldom remembered to brush his teeth. Mello had told himself that Matt's new odor was that classic 'teenage smell' he'd heard so much about, what with hormones and bodily changes and whatnot...
Then there were times when Matt would wear the same set of clothes three or four days in a row, which was a bit peculiar considering that Mello knew the redhead had clean clothes; he just wasn't wearing them.
Then the decrease in appetite. Matt was skipping all his meals, being seen eating crackers on rare occasions, as if crackers had enough nutrition to sustain life.
Mello had noticed, but he didn't think much of it; after all, everyone at Wammy's was at least a little odd.
Now that Matt had dropped into Third, Mello supposed he'd have to confront his redheaded roommate about it, but for now, he had classes to attend.
He took a seat in the front row of some literature class or whatever began to gather his thoughts as the teacher began to take attendance. Mello had just settled nose-deep into a classic novel when the teacher let out a grunt of frustration and asked "Has anyone seen Matt today?"
And nobody answered.
Crickets were nowhere to be heard, but this would've been a good time for them to be present and chirping to fill the silence in a cliche manner.
Mello, slumped in his chair, knowing that Matt had been present in Trigonometry, but he hadn't seen him after that. Still, he kept this fact to himself, lowering his head and pretending to read.
-You know how it is when you try to read, but you find yourself only reading the same few lines over and over again, unable to take in the words and process them, and therefore unable to read on?
This is what Mello was doing.
Upon failing to proceed, he decided that the only way he'd be able to concentrate would be to locate and check on his roommate.
So, he did something he'd never done before. He raised his hand and excused himself for a bathroom trip he didn't need. Yeah, he was skipping class. His heart beat just a bit faster and it took an insane amount of willpower not to run back and apologize, but he kept his composure and ventured down the hall, to the left, down a flight of stairs, to the right, another right, down a few more halls, and he eventually made it to his and Matt's shared room.
Entering, he was greeted with a surprising sight.
The aforementioned redhead, upside down on the bed- as to say, his lower half was on the bed and the rest of him was hanging off, face red from blood rushing to his head and fingers turning an ugly bluish-grey from poor circulation.
"Matt, you okay?! What the hell...?!" Mello screeched in worry as he charged toward his roommate, grappling him awkwardly and flinging him onto the bed properly. "What's going on, Matt? Tell me..."
And Matt looked at the blonde, eyes half-lidded in a bored sort of way, but there was no light in them, no expression at all. He almost looked dead, and Mello would have almost believed he was deceased had he not been breathing and not softly uttered: "Are you... disappointed in me?"
At this, Mello blanched. "About your Rank? I don't care how smart you are, Matt! You're still my roommate! You're still my friend!"
Matt sighed heavily, eyes closing. "No, not about my Rank."
"Then... what?"
"Are you disappointed... because I'm done?"
Mello sighed and took a seat at the edge of the bed. "Done with what? Matt, you're not making any sense."
And Matt's voice got so soft and so small, so fragile as he responded... "Done... with trying, with living, with everything. It... hurts."
There was a long period of silence before Mello spoke again. "Matt, are you done with me?"
"...no?" was the redhead's meek and wavering response.
"Then I'm not disappointed. You're upset, but you'll get better. And I'll be here for you."
"Mello? Aren't you supposed to be in class?"
"Yeah, Matt, but so are you. If Wammy's Number One can take a sick day, so can I."
"Mells, I'm not Number One anymore."
Mello looked at the redhead for a moment and smiled. "You're Number One to me. Isn't that good enough?"
Matt never responded verbally, but he did get up and change his clothes and run a comb through his hair. And then he beckoned Mello to follow as he left the room, heading for class.