A/N: Just a story I came up with while working today... It's just a thought into Mello's childhood... I might do one for the others if in high demand. Slightly AU.
Disclaimer: If I owned Death Note, Matt wouldn't have died, nor would Mikami. And Mello wouldn't be a pompous ass.
I remember, long ago... Before I was Mello. I was Mihael. An average boy. I had a mother, a father... A house out on the English country side... A Slovenian mother, who gave me my name. An English father, whose surname I received... And a sister. Milka.
I never understood Milka. She was always working, striving to be the best. I always wanted to play. Toys were a great thing, and I enjoyed spending hours with them.
"You'll never get anywhere," Milka had said one day as she researched, and I played. "Work, that's the only way you'll get anywhere." She gave me a stern look with the crystal blue eyes that we shared. Her bangs shadowing them menacingly. Honestly, she scared me...
I played on anyways.
People often commented on how similar the two of us were. I never saw it, except in our looks.
When I was nine, a fire destroyed our home... Killing our mother and father... Leaving only Milka and me.
"I'd like the two of you to take a test..." The man had said when we reached the orphanage. Milka was confident, and agreed. I wasn't sure.
"Take it." She told me, brushing her chin length blonde hair behind her ear. Another trait similar between us. Our hair. I kept mine short like normal boys my age though. "Work, that's the only way you'll get anywhere." She said that a lot. Her hard glare, and I agreed. After all, it was just a test.
The next day, an old man came up to me. "Mihael Keehl?" He asked, as my sister and I looked up at him.
"Yes." I answered quietly.
"My name is Quilish Wammy, and I..." He kneeled down to look me in the eye. "I want you to come stay at my Orphanage for gifted children."
Before I could answer, Milka screamed. "How!?" It startled both of us as the eleven year old glared and yelled. "How could he have gotten in! This was from that test, right?! So how!!"
"Simple, he had a superior score." Mr. Wammy answered calmly. This only pissed Milka off more. I had never seen my sister like this before. Mellow Milka, being so emotional, so angry...?
"He doesn't do anything! He never has! He plays all the time!! While I, I work. I study! So why--!?" She stopped, breathing hard from screaming. She must have hurt her throat.
"I guess it comes naturally." Mr. Wammy shrugged as my sister shushed from lack of things to say. "So, Mihael... How about it?"
I didn't answer right away... If I said yes, I'd never see my sister again, and she'd hate me. If I said no, I'd see her everyday, to hear her commenting on how stupid I was not to go... I'd rather the former. "Yes." I replied cooly. Mr. Wammy smiled at that answer.
"Gather your things."
I'll never forget the look on my sisters face when I left. I could see the loathing in her eyes as I walked out the door. She studied... Milka tried. She never was the best though...
"You'll need an alias at this facility. Here, we train the next 'L'. You've heard of him I presume?" Mr. Wammy casually talked as I thought.
L, ofcourse I'd heard of him... You'd have to be a moron not too. "Yes, I've heard of him..."
Mr. Wammy smiled. "What alias would you like? Once you choose it, Mihael will be no more... I'll have him erased from the world."
I didn't like how that sounded, but answered none-the-less, "Mello." Like Mellow Milka.
He accepted this, and we were silent the rest of the ride.
As time passed, I grew out my hair. Just like Milka's. I didn't deserve to be here, she did. She studied. I studied. No more toys, or games. I was to be the best. Or so I thought...
Near, he was the best. He didn't study though... He played with toys and games... He still was better. A natural. When I realized this, I realized how similar me and Milka were. Just like everyone said. He was number one.
'How!?'
'Simple, he has a superior score.'
'He doesn't do anything! He never has! He plays all the time!! While I, I work. I study! So why--!?'
'I guess it comes naturally.'
I could feel the loathing my sister had felt for me... Yet, I felt it to him.
