A/N v.2: This is the first fanfic I ever wrote. It's not the best, but it's my baby, and I'm proud of it. The second section of this chapter is total crap, because I've never been in a gmaing tournament before, and I didn't want to screw up more than I already have. The f-word has been censored out in this fic, because I was still uncomfortable with it when I wrote this fic. A lot of credit for this fic goes to my friend Chibi-sensei, who helped me beta it and get their characters just right. Happy reading! :)

And a disclaimer: Not owned by me, owned my Obata and Ohba.

Chapter 1

Matt was an avid gamer.

He never went anywhere without a PSP or Nintendo DSi, and at least five different games for each. When he was at home, he spent hours in front of his Xbox, PS3, or Wii beating every game he had. He often went without sleep for days because he was so caught up in one of his games. He was currently the world champion in who knew how many games because Matt had lost count already. He had won the regional and state game tournaments so often that he had been banned from participating.

Of course, as is true with most gamers, Matt was also eccentric. He always wore a fur vest (even in the summer) and a set of orange swim goggles, which he either wore or hung around his neck. He had few friends, and out of those, most were but mere acquaintances, since Matt so rarely went out.

And he was not without tragedy, either. Matt's parents were from New York City. They met at a mall and it was a case of love at first sight. When Matt was born, his parents wanted to him to be unique, and named him Mail Jeevas. But apparently his father was a mafia boss and he had gotten in trouble with a rival gang, something he "forgot" to tell Mail's mother. Soon this escalated into an all out war, and the leader of the rival gang had eventually killed his father and sworn to kill the rest of the family, too. To escape this, Mail's mother took little two-year old Mail and fled to England. But the boss found her eventually, and Mail became an orphan at fourteen. He knew it was far from over; he knew the Mafia would be back some day to finish the job.

At this point, Mail also took the easier name "Matt". He told himself it was because people refused to say his name right ("It's pronounced MILE, not MALE!") but there was another reason, one he wouldn't admit to himself: Matt wanted to get rid of all traces of his troublesome past.

Matt was shipped from relative to relative after his mother was killed, but none of his family wanted an angsty teenage gamer. Matt was thrown into Wammy's Orphanage just in time to celebrate his sixteenth birthday. Here he made his only friend, a fifteen year old boy just as antisocial as him: an albino named Near. The two had an agreement: You don't bother me and I won't bother you. The two could be in the same room for hours without saying a single word to each other.

On this particular winter day, Matt was wandering around the arcade, playing whatever video game was free until he either got bored or beat the game. He almost couldn't even look at the scoreboards because all the high scores were his. He was in between games when a flyer caught his eye.

"Win a trip to New York in the Neutron Arcade MarioKart Tournament! Play head to head against the best gamers in town! The champion wins an all expenses paid five day, four night trip to New York! The tournament starts this Saturday at noon, here at the Neutron Arcade. There is no entrance fee, but late gamers will not be accepted. Bring your gaming head and be prepared to battle it out to the end!"

'Well,' thought Matt. 'I haven't been kicked out of this one yet. I might as well give a try.' And another twenty minutes later, Matt got bored and left to find Near and spend a nice few hours in comfortable silence.

That Saturday, Matt showed up at the Arcade with only a few minutes to spare. He was decked, as usual, in his vest and goggles, and was wearing a striped shirt, jeans, and combat boots. He was paired with three other people and beat them within minutes. While he was waiting for the next round, he brought out his DSi and started fiddling around with it.

When the first round was finished, Matt surveyed the winners. None caught his eye. He sighed and went back to playing on his DSi until he was again paired up with three different people. He beat them in a few minutes as well, and that set the tone for the rest of the afternoon: Play. Win. Survey. Sigh. Play. Win. Survey. Sigh. This pattern continued for a few hours, until he and one other person were the only two people left. It was the final round. Not surprisingly, Matt beat the other player, although he did have to work for his victory, and left the Arcade with a travel voucher held firmly in his grasp. He jumped onto his motorcycle and sped towards Wammy's.

As Matt headed towards his room, he was assaulted by an albino puffball. "Did you win?" asked an overexcited Near.

"Course I did," said Matt, ruffling Near's hair. "And guess what I won?"

"What?" asked Near.

Matt pulled out his voucher with a flourish. "A trip to New York City! I get to go home, Near." Matt had envisioned going back home more times than he could count, but he gave up this dream just as often; the danger was just too great.

Strangely, when Matt pulled out the voucher, Near's face fell. "Oh. You're sixteen, aren't you? And you're leaving, too."

Matt's brows furrowed together. "What do you mean 'You're leaving, too,' Near?"

Near chewed on his lip and twirled a lock of hair around his finger. "Well… it's just that...you're the only friend I have left at Wammy's. I don't want you to leave too."

"'The only friend you have left?' What do you mean, Near?"

Near sighed. "The only friends I've ever had are you and… wait, that ticket's for New York City, right?"

A little puzzled at the change of subject, Matt replied, "Yeah. Why?"

By this time they had reached Near's room. Opening the door, Near turned his anguish filled eyes on Matt. "My friend… you'll see soon. He just left here." Saying this, Near closed the door, leaving a very confused Matt outside.