Mello had never been soft spoken, and to an outsider, it may have seemed as though any random person could understand everything about the capricious youth. But, even as a child, no one could truly understand the workings of Mello's mind. No one, that is, but Matt.

The gamer himself was surprisingly easy to understand. His mind worked the way of many other adolescents, if a tad more intelligently. He was, however, the only person who ever completely cracked the melodramatic blonde.

And at Mello's death, it was Matt who got hit the hardest.

-

It was raining.

Mello would probably have been sneaking outside right now, dragging Matt along with him. If only he were here. Matt sat staring out the window, too afraid to play his games, too sick to even move from his place on the floor.

This was so wrong. Matt had always pictured Mello as the kind of person who would live forever. Because Mello had always been right there. His earliest memories were not of his parents, what was to remember?
Matt's earliest memories were all of Mello. The time he broke his arm playing tackle football. The time they raided the kitchen after dark. Everything. So horribly wrong.

And Mello was just so strong and assured, who would ever even have thought of his death? He should have lived to an old age. But Matt's imagination was flawed. Mello died before he turned twenty-one. And who was still around to even care? Matt. Near. Maybe a few Wammy's orphans. Roger.

If life was fair, Mello would be alive. He would never have heard of Kira. He'd be in high school, probably popular and happy. He'd have a good family life. People would envy Mello. But life has never been fair.

Fair. Matt felt like scoffing at the word. What, in this world, has ever been fair? What does it mean, fair? To get what you deserve? Who did Matt know that had what they deserved? Matt, himself, even. What had he done that was awful enough for this ache inside of him, this emptiness, to be fair? And Near. Was he happy, watching his loved ones die? Matt and Near were on the same page. First there was L. And now Mello?
Fair as hell.

And as Matt though about all of this, he drew his knees up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around them. He looked at the floor. And he stayed in that postion, for a long time.

For a very long time.

And the rain came crashing down.