In a clearing in a small forest in Japan, a young man and two creatures that only he could see were having a meeting, of sorts.

Yagami Raito handed Rem the Death Note. "I relinquish my ownership of this notebook," he said. "Now ownership of this notebook returns to Rem, right?"

Rem nodded. "That's right. You're being persistent," she told Raito.

"Then give that notebook to Ryuk," Raito said.

Rem looked at Ryuk. "That's fine with me," she said, and then handed Ryuk the Death Note.

"Now Ryuk owns the notebook," Raito said. "Ryuk, drop that notebook right here, on human ground." He pointed at the ground in front of him.

"That's all good," Ryuk said. He dropped the notebook in front of Raito, who picked it up.

"Now I am the owner of this note," Raito said as he held up the Death Note.

Ryuk looked mildly confused. "Hey now," he said, "doing that didn't change anything."

"Yeah, I guess not," said Raito. "But there will definitely come a time when I can use this." For a moment, Rem saw that weird look in Raito's eyes that he got whenever he had some sort of plan. He held up the other Death Note, which he was holding with a cloth. "Now for the first notebook I found. This time I'll return it to you, Ryuk, and then hand it to Rem."

Ryuk took the Death Note from Raito and handed it to Rem. "Here you go," he said.

Rem took the notebook from him.

"Rem," Raito said, "find someone in a position of power with strong ambitions, and give him that notebook. If you do that, Misa will definitely be cleared. If she isn't, then you can kill me. How about it?"

"Yagami Raito," said Rem, "what are you planning?"

"Believe in me, for Misa's sake," Raito said.

Rem didn't like or trust Raito at all, but for Misa's sake, she would do it.

"I understand," she said. "If it will help Misa, I will do as you say."

Rem spread her wings, and in a moment she was off, carrying the Death Note under her arm.

Someone ambitious.

She knew exactly who to give it to.

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"God damnit Mello, are you ever going to finish studying?!"

"Matt, for the last time…just because you don't give a damn about how your grades come out…"

"You've been studying for three fucking days now! At least sleep!"

Mello slammed his textbook shut and spun around in his swivel chair to face Matt. "Matt," he said quietly, grinding his teeth together in annoyance, "I'm not losing to Near this time. I have told you this repeatedly." He picked up the half-devoured bar of chocolate that was resting next to his notes and bit off one of the little squares. "And, honestly, I can't sleep if I know Near's going to do better than me again."

Matt groaned and let himself fall backwards onto his bed. "You're fucking insane, dude," he said.

"Mmmhmm."

"I'm going to go eat," Matt sighed. "Because, unlike you, I can't live off of a combination of chocolate and undying hatred of Near."

"Mmhmm. Have fun." Mello casually leaned to the side to avoid the hairbrush that Matt threw in his direction before leaving.

He had been preparing for this exam for a long time, and he'd be damned if Matt or anybody else was going to fuck up his chances of doing better than Near. Or, rather, it would be the person who got in his way that would be royally fucked. Mello allowed himself a grin. Finally, he would beat Near.

Either that, or he would go into another depression, announce that his life was over, spend a day or so alternating between sleeping and griping about how much everything sucked, and finally re-appear once Matt went out and bought him some chocolate.

And it would begin all over again. Near would win, and Mello would study harder. But no matter what Mello did, no matter how hard he worked, there was always a maddening ½ to ¼ point difference between his and Near's scores – and Near's were always higher.

God, he wished Near would just die. The little white sack of flour just sat there and didn't even try, and still he got perfect marks. It wasn't fair! Oh, how Mello would have loved to just wrap his hands around that boy's neck and squeeze…

THUMP.

Mello, being the high-strung person that he was, jumped a mile and spun around so fast that he probably would have been a blur to anyone watching. But there was no one there. Nothing had moved. Mello slowly turned back to his desk, still watching warily over his shoulder.

Maybe, he thought, just maybe, he should get some sleep. It was possible that he was sleep deprived – he'd experienced sleep deprivation before, and it was a similar feeling.

But, he reasoned (using his own special brand of 'reasoning'), it was also possible that Near had managed to slip some kind of hallucination-inducing drug into his coffee that morning. Mello wouldn't have put it past the sneaky little bastard.

Hallucinations or no hallucinations, he had to ace that test. Mello looked down at his desk.

Hang on.

He didn't remember that being there before.

Mello picked up the black notebook that had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, on the left side of his desk. The first thing he noticed was the cover. It read, in silver letters:

Death Note

Was this Matt's?

It had to be, because Mello didn't remember it.

And, of course, what was Matt's stuff was Mello's stuff, especially Matt's personal stuff, so Mello flipped it open.

How to Use It

1. The human whose name is written in the note shall die.

2. The note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.

3. If the cause of death is written within 40 seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen.

4. If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack.

…Was this a fuckin' joke?

Mello wondered if Matt had picked this up from an online novelty site. It disturbed him, though, that someone would go through this sort of trouble to make a joke about killing people via heart attacks – as if Kira was funny.

Some people in this world were just sick.

He needed sleep. He'd ask Matt about it later, and probably yell at him for being so callous towards L's predicament. Therefore, Mello needed to rest, since when he yelled, it usually lasted for a long period of time.

Mello placed the notebook back down on his desk, stood up, yawned widely, and collapsed onto his bed. He didn't bother to undress; it was already noon anyway. Dragging himself over to his pillow, Mello put his head on it, reconsidered his choice to stop studying, and promptly fell asleep before he could even will himself to sit back up.

He didn't notice the large, ugly creature that was watching him from the other side of the room.