AuthorNote! – I DONT OWN DEATHNOTE OR THE OBVIOUS CHARACTERS. I do, however, own Derrick. I'm aware I might've misspelled Skyar's name – I think it's an 'e', not an 'a'... you'll just have to live with this (: This first chap is pretty long, but OPINIONS ARE GOOD! So any advice or anything would be great (: I plan on this being a multi chaptered fic anyhoo, with possibly another fic as a sequel to this...
Meh, on with the fic!
Mello's POV.
My eyes slam open due to the something that had apparently woken me, staring wide eyed at the first thing I see. A face. In shock, I reach to my right with a swift movement and grab the weapon that I kept down the right side of my bed. The baseball bat flies at the intruder with a strong blow from me, but a stronger hand catches it with ease. In the two seconds that the act had occurred in, I had registered the large and intruding face as Rod's.
"Get up. You have an hour. I'll be outside" He snatched the baseball bat from my hands, tossed it across the room and left, shutting the door quietly behind him. Apart from the intrusion, it began as a normal day, to be perfectly cliché. I woke up in my silk duvet-covered, four-poster-double-bed in my overly large quite gothic-looking room with ease, quite content with both my sleeping length and, barely, my waking time (it was seven o'clock and I'm not a late sleeper). So all appears well.
I eye the white ceiling for a moment, thinking of the plan for the day. Damned if I actually knew. Nobody tells me anything unless its five minutes before I actually do it. None-the-less, I get out of the comfortable bed and press the button on my bedside table automatically. The curtains split slowly with a slight and barely audible hum, letting in the September morning sunlight. I bet anything its cold out there. I glance out the ceiling-to-floor windows that spread across the whole of one wall and check out the view. It's a good one, it's mostly city-scape, but there's a fairly good view of the park in the distance. I always make a mental note to go there, but the day always flies by before I even think about it again. Stretching, I flex the muscles of my (so vainly) toned stomach and sigh with content. Washed, dressed, breakfast, find Rod. That would do for the next hour. Nodding, I pick out my clothing attire for the day (my usual leather pants, top and boots, reassure myself that my rosary is still around my neck and hasn't been stolen overnight, and make my way to the bathroom for a shower.
Half an hour later I'm out, dried, washed and dressed. I briefly wonder how long it'll take me to find Rod in this place (he's always nowhere and everywhere), but he's waiting outside my door as I exit my room, just finalising a call. He gives me a nod, still talking on the phone, and indicated for me to follow. I do with a slight shrug, double checking my bedroom door is locked before I move ahead. He doesn't say goodbye to the caller and hangs up, pocketing his phone and handing me a pair of sunglasses. Rod is practically my guardian. He and (I shudder and scowl as I say-) Misa, are the only resemblance to a family that I have, aside from my short two years in England which I spent at Wammy's School for the Gifted, where I ended up with a non-biological grandfather; that story can be saved for later. Rod has brought me up since I was too small to remember, he knew my dad but both my parents died before I reached the age of two.
Rod has brought me up in a privileged lifestyle all of my life, which I am rather grateful for. Apparently, it doesn't change my attitude. He doesn't have an issue with that though because he says it reminds him of my dad, also his best friend, and as long as it's controlled, we have an understanding. I'm seventeen now, almost eighteen in a few months, and that's when the fun begins. See, Rod isn't normal. To anyone and everyone else, he's a wealthy business man that owns one of the major media companies in the city and has led an almost-perfect life, even adopting two kids of his own accord, and raising them as his own. He's got control of the media from television programmes, broadcasts, magazines, newspapers; he's a "brilliant guy!". Despite his media portrayal, he owns the company but has nothing to do with it. The media (or anyone other than his workers – who are carefully employed) doesn't know this. It is actually run by Halle Lidner, unless anything formal arises, to which Rod will take the lead for a while. It's all a cover-story. An act. And up until the age of thirteen, I believed it.
On my thirteenth birthday, I got cake, presents, hills of chocolate, and a letter. The letter was from my dad, Rod's best friend, written about five months before he and my mother died. Rod was instructed to give it to me when I turned thirteen; and as told, he had. I read it, wasn't entirely shocked, but...I felt slightly betrayed. I knew Rod wasn't my dad, even though he acted like it sometimes. I knew that the 'company' he owned was partially owned by Halle Lidner, and that he had a small 'job' somewhere else too. But at thirteen, it didn't bother me. When I read the letter, it suddenly did. Misa is two years older than me; fifteen at the time. She found out about all this by accident, but found it 'cool' and vowed to say nothing. The letter my dad had given me explained everything. My dad was a member of the Mafia, working closely with Rod, Skyer, Roy and Snydar – people who up until that point, I had deemed 'close associates' of Rod. Now, I was a smart kid, smarter than maybe I should have been at that age. Ever since Rod had taken me in, I knew there was something off. But because he'd practically saved me and raised me, I wasn't about to complain. Besides, I respected his privacy as he did mine. Though, once I received and read the letter about the Mafia, and Rod now being its current leader, it took a little longer to comprehend.
By birthday wasn't ruined though. I had cake, parties, a little to drink, and media coverage from mid-day onwards. The letter was given in the morning, and Rod didn't have to tell me not to say anything; I already knew better. It took a few days until I was ready to talk about it, but Rod accepted it so calmly that I thought he would've waited my whole life if it took that long. It was a thoughtful few days too, Misa left me alone – none of her playful banter or teasing, in fact, she was probably nicer than she'd ever been. When I was ready to talk, Rod listened. The letter my dad had wrote explained that when I was thirteen, I was to start "understanding" and "training" – only if I wanted to- and that Rod would be there "every step of the way". I asked Rod to interpret everything he meant, which basically translates to: "At fourteen, you are to co-run the mafia with Rod. At eighteen, take over with Rod as your co-worker". It sounded exciting, thrilling, like something out of a movie. So at that age, even after Rod asked me "You're sure you know what you're signing up for?" I still said yes. I don't regret it. It's been three years since then, now I'm seventeen it's no different. Not much has changed. Both myself and Misa went to a private school; I'm still in one, Misa is partially at University. Rod had taught us that image was important, so we behaved, did well, excelled and took extra classes. Misa used her looks to her advantage and started modelling, as well as having her own magazine column. She basked in the light of the media, the attention and the popularity, she had no problem getting what she wanted and she's always been that way. She keeps trying to get me to model too, but as I keep explaining to her, I'd just be "Misa's younger brother following in Misa's perfect footsteps". I think not. Especially with the scar I'd been branded with due to the fire incident of my kidnapping – that's a different story and completely irrelevant at this point.
Rod inspired me to do something useful with my life, but as to what, I didn't know yet. I didn't want to be in the media industry like Misa, Rod said I got that from my dad too. He hated the media apparently. But I didn't want to wholly by involved with just the Mafia; I wanted options. None-the-less, "image is important" and I had yet to create one for myself. Rod told me it was OK, I was only seventeen, but my counter attack was always that Misa had her career off by the time she was seventeen. Still, he reassured me all the time it was OK, even though I felt it wasn' only thing that really stood out to me was my two year scholarship to Wammy's School for the Gifted and Talented in England, where I adopted (and kept) the accent and gained a degree in psychology just after my sixteenth birthday. But even that seemed pathetic at times.
Still, I was led down the corridor by Rod, taking the sunglasses from his fingers and placing them over my eyes. He stops me at the top of the stairs and turns to me. I grin.
"So, what's the plan for today?" I ask, arms folding over my chest. One of the servants come over and pass something to me, my coat, and leaves hurriedly. "We're going out?" I ask Rod.
"You have school, remember?" What?
"Summer's over already? Damn..." I shrug with a frown, swinging on my coat and moving down the stairs step by step.
"You seriously didn't remember? I thought you would've heard; Misa's been raving about seeing her friends for the past week" Rod comments, giving me a side long glance. "It's not like you to forget school" I shrug.
"I guess I got caught up helping Rod and Skyer with their thing" 'Thing' became our term for 'Mafia work'. Rod nods, but sighs slowly.
"You agreed it wouldn't affect your schoolwork"
"It hasn't!" I defend myself. "Schoolwork hasn't even started yet!" Rod chuckles. "I like school " I mumble. "Besides...I'm a senior now! High school is almost done! Though... it means I have to see that twat again" I shudder. "I could live without seeing him again"
"Mello, about that..." I frown and search my pockets for chocolate.
"Nope" I tell him, knowing he'll bring that up. On the last day of school, before summer, I'd pummelled Derrick (aka. Twat) to a bloody mess. There wasn't really a reason, other than the fact he thinks it's OK to write offensive comments on my locker, on my desk, as well as framing me for vandalising school property when I clearly didn't. As much as I'd protested, he's the Teachers Pet, and I'm not much of an obedient kid, despite having the brains to pass all of them in tests and rank the highest on the leader-boards. It would only make things worse by repeatedly harming Derrick throughout the year, so when he scratched the side of My Lovely with his keys on the last day of term, I gave him a wake-up call. I'd gone all the summer holidays without Rod saying anything, even Misa said nothing, so the topic was presumably forgotten. But I knew by Rod's tone it was far from forgotten.
"Mello-"
"I don't want to hear it" I frown again. There's no chocolate in my pockets. "I know it was wrong, k?" Hopefully that'll satisfy him.
"That's all you're going to say?" Rod asks. He turns to me and I nod definitely. He shrugs and continues down the stairs.
"Fine" He sighs. "Mello"
"Uh huh" He hands me a chocolate bar as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, moving into the open living room and taking his own jacket from the back of the sofa. As for the chocolate, I take it, open it, snap it and eat a chunk of it within seconds. He mumbles something about failing to encourage me to have a better breakfast and sighs as he zips up his coat. Suddenly appearing out of nowhere, Misa bounces down the open stairwell with her heels clacking behind her, giving me a bright look before flailing her arms around my shoulders upon impact. Then, I'm drowning in her scented perfume whilst eating my chocolate; it's not a good mix.
"Awwh, you poor thing!" She coo's, patting my head then flicking the ends of my hair.
"Misa-" Rod sighs, taking her shoulder and moving her away from me.
"You'll be okay though" She tells me. Her laced hand reaches back to my head, giving it a final pat before skipping backwards and grinning at me. "Just take it easy and don't get worked up!"
"Misa-" Rod interrupts her again.
"Pleaseee don't do anything stupid" She continues, placing her finger on her lip. "It could be a lot worse"
"Misa!" She grins as Rod flicks her ear.
"Owwww" Her grin falters as the tingly pain sets in. "Awh, Rod, there was no need for that" She waves him away and grabs my arm. "Mellooooo" She blinks up at me. Her make-up is perfect (to be expected), her clothing today consisting of a short lacy skirt and a simple black top. Jewellery overdone. Nail varnish is pristine (I like the colour but don't say anything about it). Along with her black attire, the red leg warmers fitting in such a Misa-way with her black dolly-heels tell me she's not going to university today. "Enjoy your day, okay?" She flashes me a 'peace' sign, releases my arm and bounces away.
"She's not going to Uni?" Rod shakes his head.
"She's working all day" I shrug, slightly miffed that she gets such lenient working hours. Rod walks me to the garage off the kitchen and I habitually zip up my leather coat, check my boots and head towards My Lovely. "Nuh-uh. Limo" Rod grabs my shoulder and steers me towards the awaiting elongated black mobile and away from my bike.
"Seriously?" I question.
"Yeah, the bikes broken. It's getting repaired today, so you're taking the limo"
"But I didn't break it" I growl. The key-scratch was fixed within the week; I refused to let Her suffer that long. "It was fine when I left it" He smirks like he does when he has an evil plan, practically shoving me in the limo before getting in himself. "What did you do to my bike?" He doesn't answer. "Rod, there's spare bikes for that reason! I refuse to take the limo!" I slide over the seats and attempt to get out the other side. Rod grabs the hood of my coat and launches me backwards. "What the fuck!" I yell. Misa suddenly gets in too, brushing her skirt down and flicking her hair back.
"Awh, Mels" She pulls a sad face, and I'm suddenly aware that something isn't right. "It's not that bad"
"What's not that bad?" I seethe. "Rod!" I turn sharply to him, his face completely blank. The doors of the limo lock and we're rolling out of the garage. "What is this?"
"Recalling the events that happened on the last day of term-" Rod began.
"Like, you beating up that poor, brainy kid Derrick" Misa translates. I glare. Derrick was in no way 'poor' or 'brainy'. I surpass him every month and Misa never calls me brainy.
"Yes...that... The Principal has talked the events over with Derrick, his guardian and myself—the fact you weren't willing to talk about it all summer meant I left your opinions out of this" He added. "But talking the events over, we came upon the decision that your privileges should be taken away"
"What?"
"Starting with your bike; as that was the offending item that began this whole ordeal" More like offended!
"NO!" Horrified, I grab his arm. He's stronger and I know it, I'm desperate, distraught and angry, and he knows it. "Fuck, take the allowance, but not the bike!" She's the only thing I actually love for Christ's sake!
"Language Mello!" Misa scolds me, pointing her finger at me, then turning to Rod. "Why the bike? Why not...his chocolate?"
"You!" I attempt to kick her legs, but Rod holds me back. "You are no help what-so-ever!" She grins.
"No. It's been agreed. Mello will have no access to his bike for as long as Derrick and his guardian see fit. This is merely taking away something of his entertainment-"
"It wasn't Her fault! Derrick assaulted Her! Its his fault" I shoot back. "She doesn't deserve to be unused!" I screech.
"On top of this, Mello, you will also participate in the school's anger management group, see a councillor at least once a week, and attend some form of martial arts"
"But I-"
"You already know Kendo, Karate, and Kung-Fu, there is however a Taekwondo session after school every Thursday. You will be attending that for the remainder of the year"
"I already know Taekwondo!" I grip my hair and slam my eyes shut. How the hell did this day get bad!
"Yeah, but you're not as good as Misa-Misa!" Misa giggles, and I mean giggles before sighing. "Mello is certainly weaker in that area" She agrees.
"Which is why you'll be doing that instead. If your attitude towards this Derrick hasn't changed within the next few months, then you'll be transferring schools" Rod finishes.
"You can't do that" I breathe, eyes wide. Misa actually looks shocked, turning to Rod with a gasp. She's echoes me with a-
"You can't do that!" Rod shrugs.
"I didn't decide that. The Principal did. If your attitude doesn't change to suit the school, then you're out"
"Fuck this" I hiss.
"Mello, it's only one more year" I nod in agreement, but glare.
"Did I tell you what he wrote on my desk; my locker?" Rod frowns, trying to remember.
"You didn't tell Misa" She perks up, looking quite interested (considering this is Misa). Rod looks up and silently encourages me to tell him.
"Fag" Misa gasps. "Whore" Twice. "Freak" Misa's hand flies to the left side of her face, where – if she were me – the ferocious burn would be. "Faggot and Queer too" Rod face flicks between something of anger, regret and apology. "Didn't think that maybe he deserved what I did" I shrug. "Because, y'know, he can do that and he can vandalise my bike but no – I can't touch him"
"You should have said something" Rod sighs.
"It wouldn't have mattered; and there's no point. It's the fact that you all flew to the defence of him; not me" The rest of the journey was spent in silence until I was dropped off ten minutes later. "You're to report to The Principals office as soon as you can" Rod tells me.
"Whatever" Is my leaving comment. I get out of the limo as I had been taught (not like a total klutz) and slam the door shut myself. Misa waves goodbye out of the window, Rod looking slightly irritated but cool (in the glasses) next to her. The window winds up and they're gone. I check I have my bag, readjust my sun-glasses and stride towards the main office.
It was the first day of term, and already my day started to suck.