"Near? What happened to Mello and Matt?" Linda asks, hands folded in her lap.
Near
hesitates before replying. "They perished." Everyone
else gasps, starts whispering about it, and some even begin to cry.
Linda doesn't, though. She just nods in understanding and murmurs, "I
see."
He quietly wonders to himself if Linda and Matt were ever a couple. He overheard some of the girls talk about it back in the Wammy days, how Linda and Matt were both acting strange. Once, even, Mello was found lecturing Matt about how he's 'been more out of focus than usual' and wasn't really paying attention to him. Near remembers how infuriated Linda would become when she heard about Matt, losing her temper over something that Matt did. She wasn't - and isn't - one to disturb the peace, and was friendly to everyone. Then, one day, it was all gone.
And Matt went back to being Mello's lackey while Linda became a famous artist and is now at a reunion party, quietly sipping a glass of champagne, eyes drawn to her feet.
-
Linda yawned, rolling over in her bed and opening her eyes, expecting sunrays through the curtains or her roommate getting ready for morning class. But instead all she saw was the darkness of the sky and she sat up, blinking. Her eyes were still a bit tired, but she didn't exactly feel like getting back to sleep. Linda grabbed the alarm clock and sighed as she saw the time. Three in the morning? Why wasn't she still tired?
Not bothering to try and coax herself back to sleep, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and hopped on her feet, pushing them into soft, warm slippers. She wondered if maybe she could take some books from the library...maybe, if she were stealthy enough. Or maybe she could sneak out her sketchbook, which she had left in the common room.
She quietly pulled a coat down to keep herself warm, slowly opening the door bit by bit, letting the creaks pass through the wind before slipping into the hallway. Everyone should be asleep now. A small thrill went through her body as she ventured into the common room.
If everyone was asleep then all the possessions left in the common room...not that she'd steal them, but she might be able to find the Girls Club Book (a very creative title, she thought with amusement) and see who liked who, the list of the cute Wammy Boy's by ranking and the enemies. Linda laughed as she caught sight of the girlish book. As she approached it, she heard a quiet shift in the air and then some...beeps? She frowned quizzically.
The beeps continued...Linda blinked, frozen in the air. She paused to hear more...they sounded like...
"Letsa go!"
She almost screamed right there and then until she recognised the Italian accent - Mario. Of course. Linda waited a while and gave small steps in different directions, trying to detect where the noise was coming from, and finally settled on a cupboard. She grasped the handles of the giant cupboard and opened it.
Matt was sitting against the wall uncomfortably, his legs crossed and back hunched over a Gameboy. She could see reflections of the game in the orange-tinted lens of his goggles.
"Matt?"
He didn't snap up to face her or react quickly - instead a few minutes lapsed between them before he looked up. "Oh. Hey, Linda." He gave a little wave before resuming to his game.
"Hey - hey - hey!" She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "What're you doing here?"
He shrugged, eyes still fixated on the screen. "Mello got annoyed. Kicked me out."
"Oh." She paused, unsure of what to do.
"Sit down, if you want," he offered. She blinked owlishly at him before nodding, scrambling onto the wooden surface and crossing her legs, unsure of what to do now.
"Aren't you tired?"
"Not really."
"I see."
The silence was starting to make her aware of her knee, which was resting against Matt's. He didn't seem to notice, and if he did then it obviously didn't bother him. Linda repositioned herself slightly so that she was kneeling, not sitting cross-legged. After a while, she got annoyed.
"So you're just going to sit there and play your game, then?" she asked.
A smirk played its way across his lips as he paused his game, looked up and taunted in a low voice, "Well, what would you rather do?"
Linda blushed immediately from the suggestion in his voice, colour flooding her face at an almost alarming speed.
"I know how to shut you up, Linda." Back to normal. Bastard.
"Oh, go to hell," Linda growled. He chuckled.
More silence.
"I'm leaving," Linda announced all of the sudden.
"Be my guest," he said, not even looking up from his game.
As she headed back into her room, she thought of the casual responses and how weird it was that he didn't seem to notice or care that their knees were touching - and wondered absentmindedly if he would be there tomorrow.
-
The day after the cupboard-incident (as she so originally dubbed it in her mind) Matt saw her talking with a few friends and called over, "Hey, Linda! What's crack-a-lackin'?"
She threw him a glare and didn't respond, knowing there'd be lots of questions in her friends' minds - and even for him, she thought with amusement, judging by Mello's questioning look.
Now she has to go tonight, because there was no way she could stand everyone staring if she tried to talk to Matt.
But wait.
Linda frowned.
Why did she even want to talk to him?
-
Linda approached the cupboard warily, as if something was going to pounce out of it. "Matt?" She whispered. Linda pried open the cupboard doors and sure enough, Matt was there, Gameboy and all. Linda let go of the cupboard doors and clutched on her robe, which she had draped over her pajamas for tonight. She'd even bothered to put her hair up into something presentable; after all, yesterday had been her bedhead, and although her bedhead wasn't exactly as atroscious as other girls she was still a bit embarrassed about it.
"Came back, did you?" he said good-naturedly. She pretended to seem offended.
"Of course not," Linda said snobbishly, although quite obviously she did. She heaved herself up onto the cupboard, and she knew what to ask this time. "Hey, Matt. I was wondering...how come you don't want to be L?"
"Eh. Just not really into the detective business."
Linda stared. So that was his answer. No deep insight, or tragic past keeping him from pursuing this chance?
"Oh. Well, alright then."
That was that down the drain.
She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and opened her mouth, "Did you ever want to be, though? Like, ever?"
"...yeah, maybe. Ages ago, though," he admitted.
"Oh," Linda said. She glanced through the crack of the doors of the cupboard and spotted the pink book of 'The Girls Club Book'. A smile crept up into her face. "Wait here."
Like he was going anywhere.
She returned with the book, letting the light of the Gameboys screen illuminate the pages. The very first page had the contents; list of members, list of boys by looks, then personality, then official rank (her lips curled up coyly at this), enemies...Linda sighed, a bit exasperated. But then again, girls were still girls - it couldn't be helped. Instinctively she went to the boy section, acutely aware of the boy whose eyes were set on her curiously right at this moment.
"Did you ever look at this?" She inquired. Matt shrugged.
"Not really. Hey - what's that?" He leaned in closer, and this was even worse than the knee incident. She could feel his breath on her face as he looked down on the book pages. "Boy section? I didn't even know they had that."
Linda laughed at Matt's surprised expression. "They keep on adding pages to this - oh, here's the latest page...wow, they're really serious about this. 'I suggest that Near be put down in the cute section-'" she pauses to acknowledge Matt's eyes which are now suddenly laughing, and she can see why "- because he is cute, goddamnit."
"Near is cute? You girls are weird."
Linda giggled. "No, we're just observant. Oh - there's a pretty section and -" Linda stopped, struggling to keep her composure as she covered her mouth.
Matt frowned. "What? Who's in the pretty section?"
Linda bit her lip to try and stop herself from laughing, knowing that if she did it would be so loud it'd wake everyone up. She tapped the page thoughtfully and turned the book around, pushing it towards Matt.
His eyes widened at the sight and he immediately clasped his hand over his mouth, stifling his laughter.
1. Mello
"Mello is going to blow," Matt said, snickering.
"If he finds out," Linda pointed out. "You'd better not tell him, though. God that would be scary..." She shuddered at the thought. When Matt shrugged, she growled. "Don't tell him. Some of my friends helped in this, you know; I don't want Mello decapitating them."
"Jeez, fine. I won't. Hey, am I in there?"
Linda raised an eyebrow. "Trying to fish out an ego-boost there?"
He grinned in response. "Maybe."
Linda mock-sighed, flipping the pages as if it was the most difficult thing in the world. However, something stopped her. "Wow. Crush Theories. This should be juicy."
Matt leaned over a little more and she wondered if anyone taught Matt about the beauty of boundaries.
"They think Near has a crush on me?" Linda said, eyebrows frowned in confusion as she read one 'crush theory'. "How can you tell?"
"That's what I was thinking, but Mello reckons too," Matt said. "So, maybe. You talk to him the most, don't you?"
"Well, it's not like he isn't a nice person to talk to." Linda continued to stare at the page. "Wow."
Matt retracted a little, and Linda silently rejoiced. "What, you'd be interested?"
"Maybe," Linda admitted shyly. "Oh wow, you're here an awful lot. I guess a lot of girls like you."
He didn't seem interested. "Maybe? That's really screwed up, Linda."
Linda frowned. "What do you mean, screwed up? He's cute, he doesn't insult everything that walks, he doesn't have an addiction to video games and he likes my art -"
"- and he's socially retarded, addicted to kiddy toys instead and probably doesn't even like you."
She narrowed her eyes into cat-like slits, fuming. "You know what? If you're going to act like a huge jerk over it just because your stupid, insecure friend can't stick him, then I'm done." Linda pushed herself out of the cupboard and stormed off angrily, leaving Matt to his Gameboy.
-
"Hey Linda? What's going on?"
Linda blinked and stared at Francis in bewilderment, before frowning in confusion. "As in...what's going on with my life, or is there a problem?"
"Problem? Well, you and Matt keep looking at each other when you don't think the other is looking, though you clearly forget we all are looking. Would you count that as a problem?"
Linda huffed, unable to think of a response to that.
"Look, I'm just going to take a shot here. Did you guys have a fight, or something?"
"Have you ever seen us talking before?" Linda questioned, putting her hands on her hips. The scrutiny of her gaze seemed to be too much to bear, because Francis dropped her own.
"No, but, like, this is what couples do when they're angry with each other, right? And with Matt saying -"
"- 'Hey, Linda, what's crack-a-lackin'', suddenly we're a couple?" Linda raised an eyebrow at her, a look of disbelief on her face.
"Well, I guess not, but still. It's not like Matt talks to anyone else here, y'know?" Francis shrugged. "So it's a bit weird when he...bursts out like that. And then he looks at you -"
"Depends how he looks at me, Fran."
"Eh..." Francis furrowed her eyebrows in contemplation. "I dunno...it's kind of neutral. Sort of like he's checking that you're there. Don't you know? That's why Mello got angry at him yesterday 'cause he wasn't focusing. Oh, look, he's..." Francis made a small gesture towards the other direction.
Linda looked over her shoulder, and for a second her eyes caught Matt's. Linda blinked in surprise before turning back around, feeling some heat flood her face involuntarily. She took a deep breath, wishing the red away.
"Okay, Linda, are you sure you're not a couple?" Francis asked uncertainly.
"Yes, we're just friends!" Immediately after, Linda shut her mouth as Francis lifted an eyebrow skeptically.
"You're friends?" Francis cried and instantly Linda hushed her.
"Shh! No, it was just a slip! We've talked a few times, but I don't think you can call us friends -"
"Oh ho! So you've talked?"
"Yeah but not much. Just...I asked him why he didn't want to be L, that's all."
At the word L Francis nodded in understanding. L wasn't to be joked about, even if it was an irrelevant detail. For a moment, there was silence, before she spoke up again. "Yeah, but you still talked."
Linda sighed in exasperation.
She was not getting out of this conversation alive.
-
A few days later, Linda decided to write a note.
Hey, Matt, I know I shouldn't have gotten so pissed with you easily -
Yeah, no.
Dear Matt -
Linda scratched that bit out furiously. Dear? Where did that come from? She shook her head at herself, before setting her pen to the lined paper again.
Hi Matt. If that was weird -
Again she crossed it out.
After a few more attempts, she decided to give it up completely. She scrunched up the lined paper up into a ball and threw it without thought into the trash can, instead heading into the play room.
As usual, Near was there, knee brought up to his chest and one hand mechanically placing piece after piece in the puzzle. Linda unfolded her easel, almost dropping it in her clumsiness. She lifted her pencil, trying to get somewhat of a base to paint on, but it merely hovered. No natural strokes or strikes of inspiration. She exhaled and dropped her hand to her side, putting the pencil back in its place and retiring in one of the armchairs, staring into space.
Linda opened her mouth, and before she knew it she asked, "Near? May I ask you some advice?"
He didn't reply, so she took it as a yes.
"If you were angry with someone about something stupid...but you're not sure it's stupid because you think you might just be feeling guilty because you don't know the person so well...what do you do?"
There was a pause between them both.
"I believe the ideal response would be to merely apologise."
Another silence lapsed between them.
"Oh. Thank you, Near."
Linda twiddled her thumbs for a while, wondering whether she should start a new conversation so that it didn't appear like she was just going to pop in and go or...well, pop in and go.
"Near, remind me to draw a portrait of you later, okay?"
She saw him freeze for a second before continuing, and she secretly smiled to herself. It took a lot to make Near react.
Linda folded her easel together and packed away her things, taking out her pocket pen and notebook before heading to class.
-
In class, the teacher was explaining about Newton's Third Law of Motion. Mello was furiously scribbling down notes, determined to remember every detail about the topic, while Near was just playing (or was it challenging, Linda thought) his rubix cube, expression blank as ever. Linda, however, was focused on Matt, who was trying to keep himself from yawning.
When the teacher finally turned around, Linda scrunched up a square piece of paper and hit it at Matt's head. It bounced off it, falling with a small plop on the desk. Matt eyed it curiously before straightening it out. When he read it, he grinned, pivoting a little to salute Linda. She giggled.
Nothing much. What's crack-a-lackin' with you?
-
Linda yawned and sat up on her bed, feeling more refreshed than ever. There wasn't any sunlight; so it was...
Three in the morning.
She inwardly groaned.
Again?
Linda slid off the bed, wondering if Matt was going to be in the cupboard. She looked down at her pajamas, in all its pink glory, and blushed. Maybe she should wear something better...? Something impressive...?
She shook her head violently and brushed her hair as to not expose her bedhead. Francis, her roommate, stirred a little in her sleep, and Linda didn't move until she had settled. She put on a robe and headed out into the hall, going down until she had reached the common room, to which her confident stride stopped and she hesitantly peeked into the room.
Linda opened the cupboard doors open -
Nothing.
She huffed in irritation and closed them quietly, wondering where Matt could possibly be! Asleep, is he? I really doubt it.
Unsure to why she was angry, she went back to her room and as stealthily as she could, changed into a pair of jeans and a purple turtleneck. It was snowing outside, so she made sure to bring her thick jacket as well, although why she should be trying to find Matt, when he was probably sleeping soundly in his bed -
Pssht. He couldn't be.
She didn't know why, but every time she came up with a rational, reasonable excuse, the voice came back - uh, yeah, just no.
Linda tiptoed to the door and opened the door, quick to shut it so that the cold wouldn't enter the room. The wind wasn't too harsh; nothing more than a mere breeze. She pulled the hoodie of her jacket on, hiding her hands in the baggy sleeves. She rubbed the two sleeves together, hoping to build friction and heat up her hands as she scanned the area nervously. Linda sighed and stuck her hands in her pockets. She trudged across the playground, looking behind bushes and at the swings. Eventually she went behind the building's exterior and spotted Matt leaning against the red bricks in his normal casual attire (with gloves, she thought bitterly as she shuddered from the cold) with something white and cylinder in his left hand.
A lollipop?
She squinted. No, lollipops don't have smoke floating at the end.
Matt raised his hand and took a drag from it and Linda stepped back, eyes widened and mouth agape. The crunch of the snow beneath her boot must have alerted him, because he inclined his head and smiled as he caught sight of the girl.
Linda walked towards him, hands still suck in her pockets, staring at him like a foreign creatures. "Is...is that a cigarette?"
He shrugged. "Yeah. Why?"
"That's not good."
He grunted in annoyance. Matt knew where this was going.
"I mean like - wait - uh..." she swallowed. "You - why?" She waved her arms about, trying to demonstrate something.
"I just wanted to test it out," he replied, shrugging carelessly. She stared at him in disbelief before continuing.
"And how long have you been 'testing it out'?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
"Uh...six months? It's just testing," he assured.
"Six months? Testing for six months? Yeah, even if it's just 'testing', but you know..." Linda bit her lip. "It's not good. If you start now you'll die when you're nineteen -"
"I really doubt I'll live that long anyway."
Linda blinked. "What?"
"If I don't die because of smokes it's going to be because of some wacko plan Mello has to overrule Near." He dropped the cigarette and let it extinguish under his boot. Matt pulled out a pack and got out another one, lighting it casually, stealing a glance at Linda before exhaling.
"Don't," Linda said, her voice coming out like a swallow. She shook her head slightly, as if trying to deny it, and stared at him in the eye. "Please, don't. Not for some silly childhood rivalry Mello and Near have, which is one-sided anyhow -"
He laughed hollowly. "Oh Linda," he said almost fondly, patting her on the head.
"No, really," Linda said, coming from a please to blatant begging. "I don't want you to die. You're - you're special. And it'd...I wouldn't want you to die. No one else would want you to die. Not so young. Take that out of your mouth, Matt."
"If you can't deal with it, go," Matt said, not unkindly. "That's life, you know?"
"No, I don't," Linda growled. "You're lazy. I know that. You're indifferent. I know that. But you're also naturally talented at so much and you don't need to risk yourself for Mello! It's - it's a waste! Let Mello die for himself! You should live."
Matt gazed at her for a while, and then laughed again. "Jeez, calm down. I was kidding."
Linda opened her mouth but closed it, glaring at him behind her bangs. They both knew he was lying, but she couldn't pin anything else on him; he wasn't going to budge. For a while there was just the sound of the snowflakes floating down in the air, latching onto fabric, hair or just the retired snow on the ground.
She bobbed up and down, trying to keep herself warm. "So Mello kicked you out because of this?"
"That, and there's a smoke alarm."
"Oh, okay."
Matt smiled. "You don't need to stand out here."
"I don't want to leave you alone." She returned the smile bitterly. "And I'm not really tired, either..." Linda wrinkled her nose a little at the smell.
Another silence.
"Ugh. Now you're going to smell all smokey and one of the narcs is going to turn you in," Linda said, laughing a little. Matt faintly laughed with her.
"Well, if I'm going down, I'm dragging you down with me," Matt said, and it sounded too jokey for Linda to take it seriously, so she laughed harder. Linda's laughed faded, however, when Matt leaned in. It reminded her of the time in the cupboard when he was far too close for her liking -
Linda averted her gaze, inclining her head. Even so, he was getting closer, and eventually - finally - dreadfully but so wonderfully - he kissed her.
Up close he smelled of wind (even though wind didn't even have a smell - but if it did, this would be it), leather and smoke (she wondered how the leather got there, but it's easily answered as it is asked) and the kiss lingered a bit more than just a playful, friends sort of kiss. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and he wanted to hold her waist but she's not going to put her heart in someone who would die for someone else, and he wasn't going to involve her; make her an unnecessary accessory to the pain and stress. At last Linda pushed her hand on his chest and they pulled away from each other.
Still slightly intoxicated, Linda moaned, "Well, now I'm going to smell really bad."
Matt grinned lazily and put an arm around her shoulders as she shivered in the cold.
-
"So you're just going to leave?"
"Why not? You are."
"To become an artist."
"Yeah, well, I might do the same thing."
"Pssht."
"Okay, maybe it was a lie. But you never know."
"Don't get yourself blown up, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah."
"I'm not kidding here."
"I know."
"Don't go out there to Mello just to play with death. You play with video games, not death."
Matt smiled in response, slinging a bag over his shoulder as he approached the doorway, popping his goggles on.
"Mello doesn't play with death. Kira does."
-
When Linda saw Matt being shot down on T.V, she didn't cry. She didn't even know it was him at first, until she recognised the blazing red hair and the goggles. She thought he was going to live, urging someone to call an ambulance in her mind. The camera wouldn't zoom up close; where was he hit? But from here she could see blood, from here, behind the screen, she was panicking a little, but there was a voice that told her that it was okay and that he was going to live. Linda swallowed, staring at the television, and after ten minutes -
No ambulances.
No Matt.
(No Mail.)
He was gone.
She did the grief thing; her lips trembled and she buried her head in her palms, but that was it. Hopefully, miraculously, he would still be alive, so that's why she's going to ask again at the reunion party that'll happen in a couple of months.
-
"Where did the cupboard go?" Francis inquires as she points her pinky, the rest of her fingers snaked around a wine glass, at the empty space.
"Linda bought it," Roger replies, chuckling a little. "She used to hide in there. Sentimental value, I suppose."
-
"My greatest regret?" Linda repeats, the champagne rolling about in her glass, frowning thoughtfully as pairs of eyes watch her suspensively. "Never knowing his true name."
-
fin.
-
Author's Note: PSSSSSHT. So much for "this time I'll make a happy ending". Well, it was less bleak than 13 X. Linda doesn't disappear at the end, here. Was the romance too rushed? I'm a bit worried it was. I'm not sure you can even call it a romance; I didn't want to seem like they were in love, but not that it was just a flitty crush passing by. Maybe a bond kind of thing? Oh well. It's open for interpretation. R&R!