A/N: This is another idea that I got from a friend. I actually own a pet pillow named Marsha, she's on of those Fom pillows. She is also shaped like a marshmallow. I am aware that the title is spelled wrong, but it will make sense after reading the story. Queenie is just a random character, and for this fanfic only. She has no purpose, other than to make Mello mad. The meaning of this isn't quite as clear as I wasnted it to be, but I think it still makes sense. At least, I hope.
Title: Marshamellos
Rating: G
Spoilers: This has Mello, Matt, and Wammy's in it. So I guess that counts.
Warnings: Hm...none I think.
Summary: Mello meets a little girl and her pet pillow.
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. DN is owned by its creators Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata.
It was a warm day at Wammy's House, and orphanage for gifted children. The youngest ones were playing with stuffed toys and drinking from their bottles. The older ones were playing sports, catching up on overdue homework, playing video games, or picking of the younger ones. All was normal.
Aside from, of course, the fact that Wammy's had gained another tenant. Cindy Lu, or Queenie as she had chosen for her alias, was a little girl, no more than 3 and a half years old. She had short chin-length, blonde hair that fell delicately into her warm, chocolate eyes. Her skin was a light peach color, and full of life. She was the sweetest thing, and cute as a button.
Of course, she just happened to run into the one person that no one but a fan girl would like to meet at Wammy's. Mello. He, too, had chin-length blonde hair and brown eyes, but, despite his feminine appearance, he was a menace. No one who had ever crossed over onto his bad side had gotten off. Terrorizing little children was his hobby, and Queenie was his next target.
He approached her during free time. She sat alone under one of the many trees at Wammy's, clad in small blue jeans and a green T-shirt that was too big for her tiny frame. She sat on a blanket, and had the makings of a tea party set up around her. There was no sign of a stuffed animal to be seen, although a fluffy pink pillow was lying suspiciously by a cup of tea…
"Hello!" Mello yelled at the little girl as he knocked her tea set over. He kicked up the blanket, and she rolled away. He tossed to her things this was and that. She didn't cry, or hit him, or do anything. She merely ran over to the pink pillow, grabbed it, and brought it back to him.
"This is Marsha! She's my pet pillow!" she told him in a cute was that only a toddler could manage. "She likes you!"
"Yeah? Well I don't like you!" he snapped back, reaching to grab the pillow.
"See that Marsha? He likes you!" she chirped happily.
"No I don't!" the six year old Mello retorted, throwing the pillow back at her.
"I'm Queenie. What's your name?" she asked. Mello was caught completely off guard. Every other kid he'd done this to had cowered in fear, or told on him. But even those who hadn't still hated him. This girl…she looked…happy? It confused him.
"Mello"
"Mello, this is Marsha! Marsha, Mello!" she smiled.
"No way!" he pushed her down, causing her to scrape her knee.
Mello spent the rest of the afternoon in detention, writing standards. I will not push little girls to the ground. I will not push little girls to the ground. I will not push little girls to the ground. I will not push little girls to the ground. I will not… By the time he got back to his room, he was in a foul mood. So, when his best, and probably only, friend Matt came in, he did not receive a warm welcome.
"Hey Mello,"
"Hn," He bit off a bit of his chocolate bar, glaring at a spot on the wall.
"I snatched these from the kitchen, want some?" he asked, holding up a big bag of marshmallows.