9/11/08

Prelude

A lot goes on at Wammy's. A lot of which most people don't think I pay attention to.

They're wrong.

I do pay attention. Enough attention to know that the reason Mello is so temperamental and foul-mouthed around every—well, everyone else at least—is because he's desperate for attention. Roger's attention, L's attention. My attention.

I know that the reason why Near doesn't bat an eye towards Mello's flagrant hatred for him, is quite frankly because he isn't smart enough to know better. Oh sure, Near's IQ is way up there; past Mello's, past mine. That's just what his capacity of knowledge is: his book smarts. His common sense is another matter entirely.

I know that I will never be in the final two, vying for L's title. I'm not too stupid or too self-absorbed not to see that.

Yeah, I play video games. Yeah, I might act like I'm totally oblivious to the rest of the world. Yeah. I'm not.

And because of that, I knew exactly what was going on when Mello stormed into our shared room, blonde hair swinging madly and eyes threatening to brim over with tears. It had something to do with Near. And it most definitely had something to do with L.

I kept my eyes trained on the Gameboy Advance DS held in my hands. I had to keep up the allusion, of course.

Mello plopped down on his bed and clutched his head in his hands. I waited for him to tell me what was wrong, refraining from acknowledging he was there. When nothing was said, I looked up.

What I saw was Mello, angry tears coursing down hot cheeks, staring pointedly at his feet.

"What's the matter?" I asked, shocked at how upset he was. I thought that it was something trivial, like L had visited and yet again had spent more time with Near. I would never mention the fact that he nearly never spent any time with me, and that Mello was lucky for that. He was still in the game. I was very clearly out.

Mello's head swiveled up, eyes burning into mine. "L is dead."

I wasn't surprised, to tell you the truth. Since L first began his participation in the Kira case, it was a good possibility that Kira would kill him. L had said that Kira was his rival in intelligence and a threat to the society of now and of the future.

Though Mello might have been sad about L's death, as they did have a close bond, I didn't think that it would make him react this angrily.

"Well…" I began slowly, sliding the off button on the Gameboy and placing the Gameboy down beside me on my bed, "…there was always a possibility that L would die in the Kira case. Are you really that surprised?"

"Just because I knew he would go and die doesn't mean I can't be sad about it," he replied sourly. His face screwed up and he bit into his bottom lip.

I tread carefully. "Is that the only reason why you're so upset?"

Mello threw himself off the bed and towards his closet. He grabbed a duffel bag off of the closet floor and began shoveling his clothes into it. I watched him for a few minutes before commenting.

"Mello." I wasn't going to let him ignore me, not this time.

"Did L choose his successor?"

Mello froze. And then in a blink of an eye, he began to shovel his things in more furiously, now having moved on to his dresser.

He zipped the full duffel bag and threw it onto his bed.

"Mello," I said heatedly. You are not going to ignore me, god dammit. Not this time.

Mello turned around quickly and glared at me. "It wasn't you, if that's what you're worried about," he spat.

His remark stung, but I didn't waste a moment for my response. "I'm not worried about the stupid title or the stupid status, Mello. I'm worried about you," I told him, standing up.

Mello closed his eyes and turned away from me again.

I moved towards him, and then gathered him in my arms, pulling him into a hug. I pressed my lips on the top of his head, his chin resting against my collarbone. "Don't block me out," I murmured into his hair.

Mello shuddered and took in a breath. His entire essence reeked of chocolate, even his hair. I inhaled. He exhaled, bitter chocolate wafting up to my nostrils.

"He didn't choose," he mumbled in response.

I pulled away from him, astonished. L was so efficient, to think that he hadn't gotten around to choosing his successor before he actually died was unthinkable. Entirely inefficient, entirely un-L-like.

Mello groaned in protest when I pulled away. I quickly resumed my previous position, but now looking him in the eyes. "What did Roger say then?" I asked.

"He said that Near and I would have to work together as a team. That only then would we surpass L," Mello replied, and I could have heard the sneer in his voice had I not been looking at his lips.

"Well, are you?" I pressed my lips on his upper ear, and then moving down as if I were tracing the shell of his ear.

Mello leaned into my touch. "Like I'd ever want to work with that little shit," he replied, perfectly calm.

"What are you going to do then?" I breathed against his earlobe.

"I'm leaving," he said shortly. I withdrew my lips and looked him in the eye again.

"Are you sure?" I asked. A scared Mello was never good, or something to base an escape on. A gave him a reassuring squeeze, trying desperately to convey that whatever he chose I was fine with. And I was. It was the truth.

I found that with Mello it was hard for me not to tell the truth. Even my allusions slipped past me around him, just as his attention-deficit fell away from him whenever we were alone together. We brought out the best of each other.

"I'm sure," he replied.

I looked at him determinedly. "Then I'm coming too."

"No, Matt," he protested, finger curling my fiery red hair. "You have to stay here. I don't want you to leave because of me."

"Why else would I have stayed?" I asked.

Mello looked perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"L is dead. Wammy's was built so that L could find an heir. No L, no Wammy's," I told him, "I wouldn't have stuck around long."

I grinned at him.

"Well," I amended, "Not unless you needed me to."

Mello smiled slightly but looked down anyway.

"What's wrong?" I asked. His eyelashes veiled his eyes and his hair hung down into his face. He buried his face into my chest, and I suppressed a chortle.

He had always been so adamant about how he wanted to grow taller. I had been taller than him for as long as we had known each other, and he always had hated it.

He didn't seem to be hating so much it right now.

He was just at the right height that his head fell at my collarbone. It seemed to me like the perfect fit. Secretly, I had really wanted him just to stay the way he was.

"I don't want…" he drifted off, voice muddled by the chest in his way, "…I don't want you to feel like you have to stay with me. I don't want to be a burden."

"Are you crazy?" I asked, lifting his chin so that we met eyes.

He flushed slightly, but didn't say anything. "You are my best friend, Mello. I love you," I said. "I will follow you until the ends of the earth. Unless…unless you don't want me to…"

"No!" he protested. "I want…I want you to stay with me. I want…I like you just the way you are, Matt."

I smiled, and then pulled him into a kiss.

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