Death Note© Ohba and Ogata
. . .
[ Set in the future, where they're around19-24 years old ]
A big metropolitan city like Tokyo had its own kind of night owls.
Those were men who remained dormant during day, and made a living during night. They shared a same epithet, known only to common people—gangsters.
Mello had worked in the underground world for years. Bloodstained hands had long since dismissed. Matt followed behind him, both as trustful right-hand man and a loyal friend. Their involvements in recent wars boosted their reputation as notorious mercenary assassins.
Everything was fine, until news about the deaths of several rich conglomerates appeared on TV.
"…—was found dead. This makes it the third murder case during the last three days—…"
Biting on a chocolate bar, Mello's eyes wandered around the photos appeared on the TV. Being an underground individual himself, he instantly recognized them all as leaders from different gangs, with their identity disguised as mere riches.
"…—Police is still searching for the criminal—…"
Whilst the announcer still pronouncing about the chronology of the case, Matt strolled into their living room, casually sitting on the other side of the sofa and lit on a cigarette. Mello could smell fresh soap, which meant he was taking a shower just now.
The redhead blinked lazily at the TV.
"This guy sure is bold, going around killing off gang leaders," he muttered out aloud, puffing smokes from his cigarette. "What do you think, Mels?"
"Why would you think I'd give a rat's ass about him?"
"Dunno. Just a hunch?"
"He can go around cosplaying as terminator for all I care."
"Right… Somehow I knew you'd say that."
"Then stop asking useless question, Matt."
Matt shrugged nonchalantly, breathed out more smoke while Mello went back to watch news with a bar of chocolate in his mouth.
"But it'd be troublesome if he kept slaughtering our potential employer, y'know." Matt spoke again. "What if he got in our way?"
"…We'll deal with the bastard in due time."
Behind the stage, gears of fate intertwined against each other.
There were several papers with photos scattered on their desk. Mello frowned. "Why the hell did you take so many jobs in one day?"
His annoyed tone immediately got his partner's attention from whatever game he was playing. "What? You don't wanna go for the kill? That's rather unusual for you, dude."
"…I'm not in the mood for killing birds right now." Mello reasoned. In truth, he just wanted to sleep until tomorrow. Yesterday work was hell.
Matt rolled his eyes and clucked his tongue in response. "Some of our old acquaintances put quite a high bounty for this wanted criminal. Apparently it was the same guy who slaughtered their bosses.
"And it messed up the underground's chain of commands?"
"I'm afraid yes."
Both men went silent. This situation could be either an advantage or disadvantage for them.
"What do you think we should do, Mels?"
Mello put a hand to his eyes. "…We'll deal with the bastard in due time."
Unfortunately, lazing around in the couch made his back ached.
Mello rose to his feet and walked to check the fridge. There was nothing but a bottle of ketchup—leftover from yesterday pizza—and a few cans of beer. What else could he expect from a fridge where two grown-up men lived solely on junk foods and beer?
Taking a can of beer for himself, Mello picked up his jacket and went outside.
The streets seemed more vacant than usual.
Could it be due to recent deaths reports that had broke into news?
What happened in the underground stay forever in the underground.
At least, that was what Mello had learned from his time working as part of it. Death of a gang leader usually was kept as a top secret, as it could be considered a weakness for the organization to lose the chief. When the rival gang learned of this, surely it'd lead to their downfall.
This was the first time that their deaths announced on TV.
No one's stupid enough to leak such useful blackmail material to the surface. The bodies must be left indisposed after gotten killed, resulting in them easily found by common citizens.
Mello felt dread ran through his spine. This feelings… the same thing he felt whenever he partook in an assassination job…
It was undoubtedly the feeling of a desire for death—of blood thirst and bloodlust.
Passing a dark alley, he paused for a moment. His eyes glanced to his surroundings. Empty.
Before he could take another step, the sensation suddenly grew stronger.
And it was fucking from behind him.
Carefully, Mello hid himself inside the darkness. His trained eyes caught a young man dressed in white trench coat.
'…What is with that guy and white?'
Seriously, there's so many white that Mello couldn't distinguish any other color from this guy. His hair, his pale skin, his long trench coat, his pants… everything was white, white and white.
He's too ethereal that it's almost inhuman.
But then Mello smell a familiar tang of blood. It was thin—nevertheless, still there.
…
Despite his skill to hide perfectly undetected, Mello knew the guy could sense him. He watched when the white man wandered his gaze to the darkened alley where the blond hid. Mello saw clearly how the stranger's eyes were as black as the abyss—it honestly surprised Mello.
The stranger then turned away. His bloodlust presence which lingered in the air was thick. There's something in his hand—very sharp and seemingly made of pure silver. The moonlight reflected on it clearly. The scene was so beautiful and deadly at the same time.
…Such tremendous desire to kill.
There's no other goon in the underworld that Mello could care about aside from L. All hypotheses inside his head informed him that the guy was the wanted renegade Matt warned him earlier.
…When the time comes, it'll be a showdown.
Matt stood in front of a desk, where he met face to face with Roger, a higher-up within the underground world. He took one of the scattered papers on the desk and read it.
It was a profile of a teenager—a little younger than him and Mello—who looked like an albino (minus the eyes).
"He is the perpetrator of recent murder cases. We called him Near." Roger said, his eyes glowering on to Matt. "…I want you to apprehend him…—alive."
"Alive?" Matt let out a snicker. "What makes you think I'd guarantee to comply with such handicap?"
"Because he is useful when alive."
"…Useful?"
There's something behind Roger's words that gave Matt uneasy feelings.
. . .
A/N: I won't promise any update, lol.