Correspondence Course

Chapter 1: Assignments

Any man who cultivates geniuses for a living is more than a little twisted, if not completely insane, which is exactly the state you would have found Mr. Quilish Wammy in on this particular afternoon. He stood, the solitary adult, in a room full of eager children. All of these kids were in various states of activity, and all were asking some form of question about a man apparently known as L.

"No, no, no," he said calmly, hands up in a surrendering gesture, "It's nothing like that. I just have an assignment I'd like to try out, that's all."

The children let out a collective groan. Experimental assignments were not uncommon, but they never gave the same amount of satisfaction upon completion as say, a personally chosen puzzle. And several seconds later, when they found it was to be a written assignment, they lost interest completely.

Upon the moment the words "written assignment" were spoken by the same Mr. Wammy, his insanity was cinched. Despite their high IQ, and status as geniuses, these were still high energy children, with an average age of approximately 9, none of whom would be captivated by a low-logic activity such as letter writing.

"You only have to write two letters, one to your assigned partner, and one in response to their's. Of course, these will be analyzed to see how you interact with other people. Don't give your name, and try to share as much as possible, without being dangerously divulgent, but please try to avoid being dull as well. I will come around to each of you in turn, and assign your partner to you. Good day!!!" Wammy smiled jovially as they slowly arranged themselves into a line. Good, he thought, Geniuses have never been well known for their social skills, hopeful I can use this to analyze their deficiencies and...But that thought was cut short as one of the louder ones, Mello, he goes by, demanded he move on.

Mello stood fidgeting, waiting for Wammy to assign them their partners. At six years old, he was already considered one of the most intelligent, and also (seemingly) one of the most normal. And, as your average six year old, his attention span wasn't much more than a squirrel's.

"Start giving 'em to us already!" Mello shouted, unable to wait any longer, "And they better not be paired by smarts, 'cause I won't do it if I'm with him," he added as an afterthought, hiking his thumb in the direction of a small, pale boy, made even more washed out by his white pajamas.

"He doesn't like me, and I don't like him either. He's a robot or something!" Wammy turned suddenly exhausted eyes in the blond's direction. "I wasn't going to put you with Near. Each decision was based on compatibility, and any endeavor that pairs the two of you inevitably won't be successful. But as you seem so eager to find out who you are partnered with, I will let you go first, although I don't find it ideal to play into your demands."

Mello's eyes lit up like someone had just offered him an entire chocolate cake; a striking difference from his usual lazy expression. "So who is it then, who'm I with?" He

inquired eagerly.

"Well..." said Wammy, puling out a lengthy list, "Ah! Here you are. Mello, you will be corresponding with Matt."

Several spots down the line, Matt raised his head. Mello? I'm working with Mello? The boy shrugged and returned to his Gameboy. Whatever. He didn't particularly care who he was with, he preferred to be alone with his game anyway.

Mello sized up his partner. He assumed that's who it was. He had looked up hadn't he? He looked little. Mello presumed he was maybe a year younger, and his clothes looked a little big, even on his sturdier (well, sturdier than Mello's) frame. Huge, goofy-looking goggles kept slipping down his nose, and each time that would happen, a small hand would momentarily shoot away from his game to push them back up. Geez, what a dork. Mello rolled his eyes. Well, this should be fun.

The children rushed out the door as soon as Mr. Wammy dismissed them. A lot of them ran off to meet their partners. Matt pushed his gameboy into his pocket, and squinted through his goggles; where had Mello gone? He supposed he should at least meet him, even if he didn't really want to. Oh, there he was. That mean-looking blond one in the back. He took a deep breath and walked up to him.

"Hi, I'm Matt," he stated shyly, holding out a pudgy child's hand for a handshake.

Mello just sneered at it with one brow (or lack thereof) raised. "You are my partner?" he asked, "But you're littler than I am!"

"And you look like a girl," Matt shot back, "I'm five, six isn't a big deal."

The other boy was frozen in shock. A girl? No way was he going to take that. Then again, this other kid had nerve. "Okay, fine. We can do this assignment. But that's it, got it?"

Matt simply nodded. Mello was mean. And bossy. Not a problem. He wouldn't give in. Just you wait.