I glanced down at the motionless body at my feet. The smart thing to do would be to turn around and walk away, never once glancing back over my shoulder. I would go back to the virtual world in my small, crappy apartment and try unsuccessfully to erase this moment from my memory. I stood there, running possible outcomes of my decision through my head, until finally I sighed, my mind made up. I usually made a point not to associate with people. They were just too damn complicated, what was the point of going out of your way to get to know them and keep a relationship going when the next day they'd go blab your deepest secrets to the world behind your back. I stuffed my hands into my pockets, fingering the cold metal lighter that rested in the left one. I had had only two friends in my life, my DS, and the man who now lay at my feet. I hadn't seen him in eight years. Sense I ran away…
Finally I reached down, and with one hand still stuffed in my pocket, I reached out and gently touched his shoulder.
"Mello." I muttered, shaking him slightly. As expected, I got no response, which could only mean one thing. I took a step backwards, my eyes never leaving the body. I knew I should leave, but I didn't. Without warning, a flood of memories pushed themselves into my mind, memories of those few precious, wasted years of my life that I had spent at that goddamn mental institution of a school, Wammy's House. I squeezed my eyes shut, I didn't need to be reminded of that time in my life. The hell I would ever have become the greatest detective in the world, and if I'd had a chance then, there was no fucking way I did now. But the man in front of me had had a chance, he had come so damn close to achieving his only goal in life, but he blew it. He might not have fucked up quite as much as I had, but still. I sighed and glanced down once again, what the hell did I know about achieving goals anyway? Stealing myself, I nudged the body once more with the toe of my boot. Not even bothering to look down, I turned my back on my best friend and forced myself to move. Strangely, my instincts kicked in, forcing me away from the body, until suddenly, I froze.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" I spun around. Mello was looking at me, an odd gleam in his eye.
"You okay?" I asked finally, still in a state of shock. He rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, I just got half my face burned off, and I just blew up my own head quarters, but other than that, yeah I'm perfectly fine." He muttered sarcastically. I took a step foreword. Damn, I hated Mello, I hated him for reasons that I couldn't even begin to explain. But I loved him too, with a passion that was impossible to put into words. And I guess that's what drove me to do what I did next, what drove me to fuck up my life even more than I already had, and I did it for him. And I knew he was grateful for it, even though he showed it in his own way, which knowing Mello, was fucking impossible to understand.