BB's eyes glistened with sudden terrible plots. A thumb went instinctively to his thin lips, curled back over small, sharp teeth. Earlier that day Mello had run away, for the seventeenth time in four months, shrieking "I'll see you all in Hell!" before slamming the huge oak doors behind him. B had watched Mello stride angrily down the street, skirting the sullen, wrought-iron fence around its periphery, before turning into an alley and out of sight. B's choice to perch in the Wammy House bell tower to watch Mello's escapades gave him the strange likeness to Quasimodo. B, too, was hunched, and B, too, was an outcast. The sun had slipped behind the horizon, and the bell tower cast an ominous shadow over the Wammy House. B had not moved a muscle for going on six hours, ever since Mello had left. But now, he bit his thumbnail, smiling down hungrily at a darting figure making its way towards the back of the establishment. It was Mello, his hood up, moving from shadow to shadow, attempting to return to his room without being noticed. He had failed. No one was too stealthy for B's observant eyes. Reaching the back entrance, Mello tugged at the handle and cursed under his breath. The door was locked and Mello had neglected to bring his key. B saw him look around surrepticiously before swinging a leg up and onto one of the stone lions that flanked the back door. Straddling it, Mello hoisted himself silently into a standing position, grabbing the bottom rung of the old escape ladder, its last few rungs having broken years ago. B laughed softly, watching Mello struggle to pull his feet up to the first rung. Apparently Mello lacked arm strength. After a few minutes, Mello managed to sling his right leg onto the ladder, crawling up until he was standing against the building. This was B's cue. He smiled, really opened his mouth and smiled wide, then slipped back into the tower, disappearing behind the fragmented shadows of the Wammy bell. Mello scowled at his reflection in his window, his hair stuck up in odd places on his head, his hood had fallen off on his climb up the building. Holding onto the ladder with his right hand, Mello reached over with his left and unhooked his window. It was old-fashioned, and he was grateful, because it creaked open sideways, like a door. He then half tumbled, half climbed through the space, and landed on something very unexpected.

"Shit! Holy Shit, what the fuck?!" Mello let out a string of curse words aimed at the lumpy something beneath his window. It was huddled against the wall, a person, who had covered themselves in Mello's comforter.

"Oh, Jesus, Near, " Mello bent down, and said, more kindly, " Are you having nightmares again? You can always go to Roger if you're scared and I'm...out..." He put a hand on what he imagined must be Near's head, grabbing a handful of the comforter and pulling it off.

"Hm-hm...ha ha! Mmph! Ha ha ha ha ha HAHAahaha!"

Mello leapt back, a look of pure terror crossing his face, which quickly turned to anger.

"Fuck you, B!" Mello stuck his middle finger at the dark-haired boy, who sat with the comforter still around his body. His teeth glinted in the light from Mello's lamp. "...Jesus fucking...creep...shit..Near...FUCK." Mello was muttering, taking off his coat. Then he turned on B. "Get Out!"

"Mmm..." B stood, his sinewy frame coming up a head taller than Mello, even though he was hunching over. He seemed to be deciding rather or not he heard Mello.

"Out!" Mello repeated, this time averting his eyes, knowing that he was younger than B and therefore weaker.

"No, I don't think...I want to leave...yet." B stepped out of the pile of comforter at his bare feet. Mello drew back, his eyes wary.

"Look, you're not supposed to be here...this late." Mello said, his voice quieter than before. He had backed up so that there was as much space between the two boys as possible. B advanced towards him, trapping Mello against his bed. The light crackled, lighting up B's face, which had a very happy expression.

"You like sweets." B said. It was not a question, but a statement, and as he said it, he reached into his back pocket and produced a silver-wrapped bar of chocolate. " Especially this."

"Yeah," said Mello, and then was embarrassed for whispering it. He spoke up. "So?"

" I like sweets too." It seemed too simple for B, who loved underlying meanings and situations. "Especially this."

B then moved so fast it was hard for Mello to tell where exactly he was going. All at once Mello was lifted into the air and swung down on his bed, the air knocked out of him.

"WHAT THE H-" but B's long hand was shoved roughly over Mello's mouth.

"Shh, you mad little dog, you don't want to wake Near-chan, do you?" Near slept in the room across the hall from Mello. Mello gritted his teeth, slightly jabbed at having been called 'a mad little dog' by this obviously much more insane person. Deep within him, fear began to twist his insides. B's face loomed over him, and Mello finally realized something about him had changed. A red smear had appeared on B's cheek, and something red coated his smiling mouth. It looked like-

" Strawberry jam." A pink tongue snaked along the jelly, licking it off. B's voice was simply dripping with excitement. It scared Mello senseless. "Is my favorite." Mello froze, his muscles tense and his breathing quick. B noticed.

"Scared, Mihael? Scaaaaaaaared." B lowered his sticky face to Mello's chest, pressing his ear over Mello's heart. "Did you know," his voice was so quiet Mello had to strain to hear him, "that a hummingbird beats its wings one million times per second?"

'No." Breathed Mello, terror poisoning his voice. It cracked as he tried to speak again. " Wh-what are you doing?"

B didn't raise his head from Mello's chest. He only hummed in response. His left hand was tapping Mello's bedside table in time to the blonde's rapid heartbeat.

"I've got to get something off my chest." B said, speaking as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening. "Can you keep a secret?"

Mello swallowed hard. If he said yes, would B leave him alone? Did he want to know B's secret? He was willing to try it. "Yes."

"I like the insides better." B's voice was low, and deep. He spoke the words like an insult, anger laced his tone.

"What?" Said Mello, confused, and, if it was possible, even more scared than before.

"I," Repeated B calmly, but still in his angry voice, "like the insides better."

"The insides of what?" Mello was getting frustrated.

B lifted his head off of Mello's chest and stared down at his guarded face. He smiled crookedly. Trailing a finger across the spine of one of Mello's books, he said simply, still smiling: "The mushroom, of course."

Then he turned on his bare heel and walked out of the room. Mello could hear B laughing all the way down the hall. It sent goosebumps across his arms. What did B mean by "I like the insides better" ? And what mushroom? Annoyed, Mello sat up and rubbed his arms. He wouldn't let himself get so scared of B. He was just a crazy boy with nothing better to do but bother the other Wammy House children.

Mello cracked his knuckles and stared around at his room. The comforter still lay in a crumpled heap by his window. Mello grabbed it and put it back on his bed. Then something caught his eye. The chocolate bar B had produced seemingly out of thin air was laying next to Mello's pillow, its wrapper gleaming in the lamplight.

End of chapter one! Please review! What does B have in store for Mello? What clue will Mello find next? Why is B referencing Alice in Wonderland? (Did you guys catch that,btw?) All will be revealed in time. Thanks for reading! :)