-2002 Dec 30th-2005 Dec 25th-

'Take a moment, take a deep breath. Look at life from another perspective, look at yourself through somebody else's eyes. It'll be fine, you'll be fine.'

That's what he'd said, that goddamn therapist saying that everything would be better from this moment on, that Mello would feel better in the days to come. He wouldn't, he only had himself now, no home, no friends, no parents.

How cruel life could be at only the age of thirteen.

Mello's roommate at Wammy's house was a redhead, he'd found out a day later. A redheaded gamer geek named Matt. All the kid did was throw his school assignments, clothes, and used batteries on the floor of their room while he played video games endlessly.

Mello didn't think that kid did much anything else, he was a year younger than Mello too, which took away Mello's respect for him even more, until the pot was fully drained. Mello was being a hypocrite though, he'd always scorned adults for treating him like the child he was. He wasn't though, in his head.

Who knows, maybe this Matt kid was like L, just plain odd but actually had a lot going on in his head. Mello would regret this thought in two months when he began to take the successor program seriously. He didn't want Matt to be smart at that point, he wanted Matt, and everybody else for that matter, to keep away from him and his spot in second place.

Nobody should speak to Mello, because Mello hated them. Hated them when he woke up, hated them as the days passed, hated them as he stayed one place behind Near, nestled into second no matter what he did over the next few years.

Nestled into that place and trying to at least keep it as Matt would catch up, because Mello had his own concerns that he tried to ignore. Concerns about the lack of sleep, concerns about that lifeless feeling he had, concerns about where he would be in the years to come. Surely Near would beat him come five years time, when they graduated. Mello just wasn't good enough, he'd soon found out.

Mello's first year was listless. And soon he was privately scorning his fourteenth birthday and staring at himself in the mirror, frowning deeply, not liking what he saw, not liking what he saw at all. Every ridge and curve and inch of his flat chest, broad shoulders and strong jawline, feeling like something was missing.

He put it to body issues and moved on, he stopped eating, when he did he drank so much water he felt as if he were to puke. He wouldn't though, he'd keep it in, bloated belly painfully apparent to him and only him.

One day, another year passing and leaving Mello at fifteen, he'd come a place lower than Matt, third, Matt ended up in second, and Mello couldn't bring himself to leave the bathtub he was sat in. He wouldn't hurt himself, it was stupid, the fact that he even thought on it was stupid.

It didn't stop him from digging his fingernails into his thigh though, staring at his boyish legs, the sometimes oddly out of place dick, too big feet, too solid belly, and feel at the stubble on his face distastefully. Something felt so wrong, but he couldn't place it, well..he could, but he found that stupid, he didn't need a problem like that in his life. He couldn't. He wouldn't. And even on a rare occasion he acknowledged that no book about the topic could be right, because he was disgusted by the fact that...

And he wouldn't finish that thought. But again, it was still there, haunting him like a ghost as he slipped underneath the soapy green tinted water, holding his breath for as long as he could.

He heard a yell, just as he was about to feel faint from holding his breath, and he pulled himself up, taking in gulps of air tinted with the flavour of papaya scented soap. He waited, and he heard this time a question.

"Are you okay in there?" Matt. For some reason Matt was knocking on the bathroom door, seemingly concerned. Mello didn't want to respond, but then again, he didn't want Wammy or Roger busting in there thinking he'd offed himself like A. Second place.

"Yea."

"Are you sure?"

What the fuck. Maybe the kid did pay more attention to Mello than he'd thought, maybe Matt was more intuitive behind his video game screens than Mello had given him credit for. Even being in third place Matt hadn't seemed all that clever.

"Go fuck yourself Matt."

"Hey, I'm just wondering, you've been in there for awhile..."

"Do you need the bathroom? Go use Near's, twit would like some company." There was no way Mello was moving just because the kid wanted something, there was no way Mello would work himself up, or open up to the boy either, at that. Matt's response shocked Mello a little.

"Hell no! That sheep's a freak! I'm not going in his room."

Was Matt trying to get on his side, or did Matt actually dislike Near just as much as Mello? Why would Matt dislike Near? He had no reason, it was clear that Matt wasn't trying a hard as Mello to succeed L.

Maybe Mello would pay attention to Matt some more, this was getting on his nerves. He should be paying more attention to other people or else he'd end up surprised. Like now, which Wasn't good. "Fine, I'm getting out." Screw it, Mello had been in there way too long. He began to get up, pulling the towel off the rack as he began to dry himself. Though he paused when Matt spoke again.

"Stay, if you want, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Mello harrumphed, continuing to dry himself as he pulled the plug and stepped out. The water was the same temperature as the room, he had been in there for a long time. "Why?" The blond asked, annoyed still, but wondering nonetheless. He noticed that Matt hadn't walked away from the door either, for some reason the boy was concerned about him still.

"Uh, you're my roommate is all, and you've been..."

"I've been what?" The last thing Mello needed was Matt telling Wammy that Mello was depressed.

"Nothing, I'll leave you alone." That was by far the most lengthy conversation the two had had in the last two years. Mello wondered if something was wrong with that, he was roommates with the kid and all andyet he didn't know much about Matt.

A week later, Mello skipped dinner to nurse a four liter bottle of chocolate milk over his studies, of which were immense.

A week after that Mello could barely drag himself out of bed for a test, and much to his chagrin, Matt noticed.

a week after that Mello was standing in front of his bedroom mirror wearing a dress stuffed with tissue paper, scowling at his reflection in pure anger.

He was a freak, this was disgusting, this was wrong. This was childish, just a phase. Mello had no other choice in the matter, he was a boy, that was that, he didn't have time for anything else. Mello was already an orphan, he didn't need more things making him a freak, making him appear weak.

And the unexplainable feeling he got when he looked at himself like this was like nothing he'd ever felt. Pure hatred, confusion, a feeling of trying to manipulate himself, which...he found trivial. It made no sense. Here he was, wearing a dress, hoping to the bottom of something that he could get rid of this thing in his head, that looking at this like this would make his mind up, because these feelings had to go.

A tear fell down Mello's cheek. He wiped it away. He was being stupid, this was all fucking stupid, Mello had better things to occupy his time with.

The door opened.

Matt walked in.

They both froze, Mello exuding the most pissed off expression, the most terrified, Matt confused, but almost...Mello didn't want to read that expression. It was too weird. Too interested, too shocked, too...something.

"Get out!" The blond shouted, ripping a pair of clothes from his closet in one blurry movement and rushing to the bathroom, where he slammed the door and fell to the floor.

Matt knew.

That stranger knew.

Mello felt even more self hatred for himself, now it felt real, these things he was feeling were now known to another, not just something Mello could ignore. Now someone else knew, and now Mello had something to pretend didn't happen, something to pretend was either something or nothing. Something that he had to figure out and erase before someone else(Matt) figured out for him.

"Fuck." Mello hated himself, hated himself so much. He bit his lip, drawing blood. He was so disgusting. He had to fix this.

Matt was gone when Mello came out, and Matt stared at Mello oddly the rest of the week. Mello stared at himself in the mirror giving plause to the idea, if he were to be 'That', and then feeling like vomiting because there was no way he'd go for that, there was no way he could be 'that'.'That' freaked him out, made him feel even more self conscious so therefore he couldn't be 'that'.

So he pushed it away for another few months, dragging himself out of bed, doing his studies, landing in second, going to sleep but not really sleeping, and repeating. Over, and over, and over, and over, again.

Mello wondered what it would be like to die, then cast the thought away. Now that, that was a ridiculous and childish thought, probably even more so then his other thoughts. Then he wondered why, what was so different about those two things?

He scoffed at the thought, his body and his life were two very different things. But his body and his mind...they were also very different.

He didn't just admit that. There was no way, he didn't mean that.

Mello walked out of the classroom mid lesson for the first time ever, Matt's eyes unnervingly following him.

Mello was almost sixteen then, only a few months and then it would be two years before he graduated. He couldn't believe that. And what had he accomplished? Mello felt useless at this thought, weeks after the classroom incident. His life was so mundane that that had seemed so big to him; lots of kids skipped class, why shouldn't he? He didn't do it again though.

This problem of his was so distracting that he barely had the initiative to do anything more than study. He didn't know why he was calling it a problem, he was trying to tell himself that it didn't exist even though it did, and that it was a problem. But it couldn't be real, it shouldn't have been. That nagging in his head? It would go away, it had to. He would just have to wait longer, go with what parents always told their own kids when they came out;

"Its a phase, you'll grow out of it." Mello's phase had been going on since he was thirteen, that didn't mean anything. It would go away, he'd just had to wait till he wasn't a teenager anymore, when his emotions calmed down, that was it.

Mello's argument was so weak, and he knew it. But he wouldn't admit it. But the reason why he wouldn't admit it...at this point he didn't know why. At this point, he knew that arguing with himself was only doing harm.

He felt so goddamn weak. He felt so goddamn disgusting, he felt so wrong. He felt so out of place in his own self.

He tried to blame the last one on his situation. 'see, I'm different. This is normal because I'm a Wammy kid, I'm an orphan in the successor program, of course I feel wrong, I'm such an oddity to normality. It has nothing to do with my body, I'm just projecting because I have nowhere else to project my emotions besides beating Near up. That's all.'

'I'm projecting.'

'Nothing more.'

'It doesn't matter that I had no idea what this was when I started feeling it, I just had a feeling and needed to put a name to it and came up with this. It means nothing, its just a phase.'

"Please" Mello whispered over his mathematics textbook.

"What?"

That was Matt, and Mello scowled, he'd though the boy was playing games and couldn't hear with those chunky headphones on. Upon looking further he realized that Matt was just on some brightly colored forum.

"Nothing." The blond grumbled, shoving his nose into his book again. Matt's gaze rested on him for a few more moments, uninsured, before he turned back to his laptop and desk, doing whatever the hell he was doing. Mello was fine with whatever Matt did as long as he wasn't giving Mello that look.

Mello grabbed his bag decisively and left Matt's presence for the public bathroom downstairs, locking the door as soon as he entered the clean room. Way cleaner than his and Matt's bathroom, Wammy and Roger typically used this one. Mello stood looking at himself in the mirror soon, before he pulled up his school bag and withdrew a roll of electrical tape from a science experiment earlier. It would work.

"This, is going to tell me why this whole thing is stupid, why I'm not, in no way..." He didn't finish the sentence, instead he pulled down both his leggings and pants and tore off a piece of tape.

An hour later Mello was only sore and feeling sick to his stomach, feeling no relief or success. He wished he'd stop doing this, indulging in his fears and trying to prove them wrong. It only ended in pain, one way or another. Mello didn't want to go through pain to be seen as a weak person of the...fuck.

Tucking with tape hurt. Even more when you weren't circumcised, as he had only figured out now.

A day later Matt sat by Mello in class, and like they'd known each other all their lives he had started up a conversation, Mello scowling at the boy as he chatted quietly about various things. Games, homework, Atlantis, books, anime, all the way to the fuel usage on Camaro's.

Mello had no idea what had brought this on, and it was pissing him off. THIS, was the most Matt had ever spoken to him. Mello didn't want to disrupt class, so it wasn't like he could tell Matt to fuck off either. He endured Matt's hushed conversation, of which the teacher never bothered with interrupting either, something about freedom of speech at Wammy's.

Mello thought that was shit, this was England, not America.

"I had a big sister when I first came here six years ago, she's gone now but she pursued engineering, which is what got me into computer's."

"Matt, I'm trying to study." Mello eventually grumbled, he felt like he had no energy today, especially after the last half hour of Matt chatting.

"You don't need to study, you do great."

Luckily the bell rang, and Mello right away got up from his desk, backpack in tow as he pushed ahead of the rest of the students.

Matt stopped him with a hand on Mello's shoulder, and the blond spun around immediately. "What!?" A few students looked at them, the geeky redhead with goggles in his hair and the grumpy blond decked out in black. Matt withdrew slightly, making Mello no more satisfied than he had been for as long as he could remember.

"I wanted to show you something."

"Why?" Mello didn't care what the little shit had to show him, for all Mello knew the kid was going to quiz him on the dress incident months before. He didn't need that shit.

"Just come with me. You can leave whenever you like, I'll even get Roger to buy some chocolate bars for 'me', as in you, m'kay?"

So Mello followed, grudgingly. He followed Matt up to the second floor, down the hall, and to the bay window at the end, where Matt pulled himself up onto the window sill. Mello raised an eyebrow incredulously at that, only for it to make sense as Matt grabbed the top of the sill, feet resting on the lock that rested halfway up the window as he pushed open the trap door to the attic, before pulling himself up.

Mello was surprised that the boy manged it considering he never did anything physical, and even more, for some reason, he was surprised too when Matt peeked down and said; "C'mon, I know you can climb too." Mello thought Matt would just bring him something down from up there.

He huffed, and followed Matt's movements if not a little clumsily. In the end he made it up successfully, Matt smiling happily at him, before he gestured for Mello to follow and began to lead them around a few stacks of dusty boxes.

The dust had clearly been cleaned up around an at least ten foot wide space near the wall, down a mock hall of boxes. The boxes in this open space were pushed away to form a slightly lopsided circle, where there was a blanket and pillow in the middle, along with gaming cartridges and empty cookie boxes strewn to the side, only them identifiable in the darkness.

Mello raised an eyebrow at Matt, the only light coming from a small covered window. Matt shrugged and pulled down the blanket by the wooden frame, nearly reading Mello's mind and revealing a small circular window, one of those ones with the stained glass in the shape of a cross. Mello had seen it outside before, but had never considered the fact that the attic could be turned into a fort of sorts.

And that's what Matt had done, Mello thought as Matt sat down on the pillow, Mello hesitantly following.

This felt like Matt's space, just Matt's, Mello didn't feel welcome here. Not here, this space which on another glance was more well worn than he'd thought. There were small doodles on the boxes, some smudged, some that you could make out as little stick figure battles or shoddy self portraits. The odd knick knack lay around; a pair of glasses, empty jar, and an upside down picture frame noticeable a few boxes above, looking like they'd been placed there to be ignored.

"So...this is what you wanted to show me?"

Matt smiled. "Partially, I uh, wanted to talk too."

"Why?" Mello drawled, he didn't want to do this, the room was cool, but he'd rather go finish those couple of assignments he had and NOT miss his next class, which would be in less than half an hour from now. Mello would just walk out ten minutes before class, he decided. He roomed with this kid, didn't need to make their relationship worse by walking out rudely.

"Is 'why' your favorite word or something?" Mello stayed silent in response and Matt only sighed, his then light smile dropping to a normal expression. He waved at the room. "I didn't do all this, Y'know."

"Really." Mello didn't care.

"Okay, I get it, you don't care." No shit. "But it is cool, when I first found this spot it was mess, and when I cleaned it up I'd found a journal..." He stood up, going over to one end and reaching six boxes high, he came up with a dusty, pink leather bound book. 70's style, Mello noted.

Matt handed the book to Mello, who took it hesitantly, Matt sitting down again. "You know about A, yea? That's his."

Mello tilted his head, opening the book curiously. Show a person a dead suicidal kid's diary, way to break the ice. Was Matt hinting at something?

Mello flipped to a random page without hesitation, noting the rather messy scrawls in black ink on old browning paper.

'1992, Jan 8th: B told me today that L isn't all he's cracked up to be, he says that L's symbolizes justice, and that's what he'll tell you, but L breaks the rules all the time. He says that L is a monster, and while he says otherwise, L knows that justice is easily movable. B says that if someone else came to power, and changed the already vague definition of justice, then 'that' would be justice, even if that justice meant that killing was proper.

The jury system already works that way, if the crime is big enough, if you killed enough people, then you're dead. I see what B means, now I'm feeling sick. The man I have always idolized, now I see him as a monster, just like B does.

-Aden'

Mello frowned, What a page to turn to. He didn't want to think about that at all. But then again..it was right, justice was in the eyes of the beholder, really nothing to get upset about though, the fine line between right and wrong...

"Have you read this whole thing?" Mello said, ignoring the revelation he'd just had about himself.

"Well, yea. I mean I've had it around for six years now, when I first came to Wammy's, Near's seen it too...not that I wanted him to." Matt said, sitting cross legged in baggy jeans. That position was so odd on Matt that Mello noticed it right away, typically the boy was all hunched in on himself, sitting on his feet and then complaining about pins and needles.

Stupid kid.

"Its redundant, the kid is dead, I don't get why people get all cracked up about ghost stories." Mello mumbled for lack of anything else to say, as he still stared at the old leather binding.

"You have to admit though, A spent four years writing that, there are some really fudged up things inside."

Mello nodded. "I bet." He said, and then silence. Matt looked at the window, Mello stared at the book, then Matt shifted, turning his attention to Mello again.

"What do you think of me?"

"Do you want a pep talk?"

A chuckle, "No, not at all, I'm just wondering, you never speak to anybody, so I never know."

"Hmm, you're Matt, the gamer boy who stays in third, never really talks to anybody but me on occasion, and you're also really short, which makes you look like a girl."

"You're one to speak." Matt almost sounded upset, and Mello raised his head to look at Matt real good. Something was going on.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning you look like a girl, too."

Mello felt claustrophobic at that, frowning so deeply and registering the expression with even more distaste. Matt sighed.

"Sorry."

"You have problems." Mello said this almost playfully, and Matt caught onto that; took advantage of the opening.

"You bet."

"I do."

"Why do you hate Near?"

"He figured out something about me that I didn't want to share."

"Hm," Mello didn't care about Matt's secrets, big surprise. "So what else did you want to show me?"

Matt stilled, their tiny stream of banter being cut off. He looked at the floor.

"Never mind it, lets just get to class."

Mello didn't stop Matt from leaving the attic, and he didn't feel like going back once he followed. But...he was a bit more aware of Matt from then on. The way he sat, the way he fidgeted almost constantly in his chair, the way he hunched over, the way he, even when happy, kept his voice so low.

Mello didn't know what to think of that, he figured Matt was just terribly uncomfortable, maybe he was sick. Maybe all that junk food he apparently ate was messing with him. Maybe he had some fucked up PTSD stuff. Mello thought that all of the above were likely.

But..Mello had started to hang out with Matt, just a little, then some more. The boy was cheerful, he was easy going, Mello felt a little more relaxed around Matt. Matt was handsome, too, if not geeky, certainly not an embarrassment to be around.

That was sarcasm.

Mello didn't know why through the month he had been chatting with Matt more and more, sitting by him in class, at lunch, in their room, doing homework together. He'd found things out about Matt, that the redhead hated his hair and freckles, which Mello thought was ghastly, personally. How Matt though cherries were disgusting, how he thought a real live Pikachu would sell for millions. How he actually loved hot chocolate(score for Mello), and how Matt couldn't cook but golly gee, could he ever make chocolate and coconut macaroons amazingly.

Mello liked Matt. Mello felt a little happier. The dress incident went unspoken. Mello's lingering feelings of self hatred went unshared.

Mello's sixteenth birthday came and went without a word, as usual, but it was on a weekend shortly after his birthday that he found himself under his covers, doing what he would begrudgingly call moping. It was pitiful, he should be studying, or at least bantering with Matt a bit.

Matt, who came back from breakfast and noticed Mello right away, though he ignored him for and hour, before finally speaking.

"You okay Mels?" Mels, Mel, Melani- nope, nope, screw that. Mello rolled onto his stomach, wrapping his arms around his chest and breathing in his feather down pillow. Mello didn't respond. He heard Matt get up from his chair and sit down beside him, placing a hand on Mello's lower leg. He didn't mind the touch, it was just a surprise, he stopped breathing for a few seconds.

"I know how you feel Mello."

No he doesn't, Matt has no problems, Matt just plays his games and lazes around, pigging out on breakfast cereal and slacking on his studies but somehow staying in third. Matt doesn't know what it feels like to feel like you need something but hate that you need it, hate that you want/need to be considered something that you consider weak.

"No you don't." Mello surprised himself by saying that, and Matt sighed. Mello's heart thudded.

Looking back, Mello thought that inside, somewhere, he knew what was going to happen. Somewhere very deep inside, somewhere that he never touched, he knew.

He heard shuffling, and then Matt pulled Mello's blanket back a little, leaving the older teen's naked back in plain view.

"Mells," he said softly, Mello cringing with his face in the pillow still. "Look at me." Matt said it firmly this time, and at the odd tone, of course, Mello did.

His breath caught in his throat. His whole world falling to pieces in seconds, tears threatening to burst from his eyes, of which he held back. All that self pity went down the drain, his mind trying to make sense of this; 'Matt has to be pulling a prank on me, he has to be messing with my head, this can't be right'.

How could he know? And...why? How? Why would he show Mello...? Why? Why!?

Matt had just shoved the truth in Mello's face, showing him that 'it' was in fact real. And it hurt. Matt had just shoved it down Mello's throat(it was already in his mouth though), and made Mello swallow it. Mello was choking.

Matt's expression was frightful, the last thing Mello had ever expected from Matt, and neither said a word. Everything spoke for itself, Mello's expression of pain and absolute sorrow, Matt's expression of weary softness and at the same time- confidence.

Matt's a girl. Matt was a girl. Matt isn't a boy, Matt is a boy. Mello felt like his life was a lie, but that was stupid. Matt was a boy, like Mello, but Mello...

He felt like choking, the tears were in his throat, he felt like puking.

This didn't change anything, Mello was a boy! But...this made it so real...Matt wasn't disgusting...Matt was attractive, Matt was smiley, Matt was personable, Matt was familiar, Matt was real, Matt was...relateable? No!

Matt was wearing a binder, Matt had girlish curves that were usually hidden by his striped shirts and loose jeans. Loose jeans which hid the lack of... "Mello? can you say something, is it okay that..." Matt waved at himself, for a second Mello was confused, until his head caught up with the fact that Matt couldn't read his mind. Couldn't know how much this meant to Mello.

Mello sat up, running a hand through his hair, sniffling, nodding, pulling his legs up to his chest.

"I'm so lost."

"I know, I always did." Mello would remember those words forever.

Take a moment, take a deep breath. Look at life from another perspective, look at yourself through somebody else's eyes.

Two and a half years later, two adults left Wammy's house for LA, second and third, hand in hand, circumstances intertwined miraculously.