A/N: My third Death Note fic. This time with Mello as the main character. Please enjoy.

Disclaimer: Death Note is not mine.

Warnings: Language. Suggestive themes.

There was a tinkle of a bell, announcing the presence of a customer. The store owner- who had, for the most part of the day, seen no one other than the longing eyes of the orphans outside, turned to the glass door of his shop. And there he was again, the small, round boy that came to his shop everyday. The store owner resisted a sigh- who was he to refuse a customer?

He turned around and reached for the usual chocolate bar the boy came for as the boy's chubby fingers reached as far as they could to put the money on the counter. Ninety-eight cents worth. Without a word, the store owner handed the boy his chocolate and scooped the money up to put into the register as the child marched out of the store. The man shook his head.

Poor kid, he thought to himself.

Outside, the boy, whose name was Mihael Keehl, took a few steps after exiting the store and stopped, peeling back a corner of the wrapper of his candy. He took a small bite, nibbling as the chocolate melted in his mouth. After swallowing, Mihael, who was a rather fat boy, turned to look at the other kids who previously had their noses pressed against the glass of the shop's window. Now, they were staring at him with those wide and hungry eyes. Smirking, Mihael walked over to them.

"Where's your chaperone?" Mihael asked, knowing the orphans were only allowed out of the home on Saturdays with a chaperone. They all looked at each other, knowing what would happen next but deciding to go along with it andyways, having with nothing else to do.

"Across the street," one answered quietly, pointing to the gentlemen's club. "He told us to go play in the park." Mihael knew this routine. Their specific chaperone always wasted the small amount of money in the strip club when it was suppose to be for the orphans.

"If you're suppose to be in the park, why are you here? I didn't know you had any money."

"We don't," said another, in a sad voice.

"Oh, well then I guess you won't get any candy." Mihael feigned an expression that showed pity. Dramatically, he looked at his own candy bar and acted as thought a spark of realization hit him. "I could share mine," he offered. "If you would like some."

All of the orphans nodded eagerly and Mihael had to work to keep his face straight and to prevent himself from laughing uncontrollably. He peeled back more of the wrapper, revealing the brown goodness, and broke off quite a large piece. He held out this piece for the orphans.

"Here you go," he said. "Take it." The one standing closest to him took a step toward the offered piece of chocolate and reached out hesitantly for it. He threw an anxious glance at Mihael before doing anything.

"Go on," Mihael insisted persuasively. In his eagerness, the boy quickly reached out further and made a grab for it. However, the fat boy was amazingly quicker as he drew back his hand. And the orphan boy, losing his balance, fell flat on his face. The sight of the fallen boy was so hysterically funny to Mihael that he had to grip his sides because he was laughing so hard. The other orphan boys knelt by their fallen comrade and helped him to his feet. One threw an angry glare at the laughing boy.

"That wasn't funny Mihael," he said defensively in a teary voice. Mihael couldn't help but laugh some more as he jabbed a forefinger in their direction.

"Ha, ha! I can't believe you fell for it again! Man, you orphans must be idiots!"

"Watari doesn't think we're idiots!" one shot back. Mihael stopped laughing momentarily and smirked at them.

"Of course not. But he's lying. He doesn't want to hurt your precious feelings!" He continued laughing. The other boys, all glaring and having enough of his nonsense, shuffled away and headed toward the nearby park. Mihael watched them all leave, unable to stop giggling.

"I hope you die, choking on your stupid chocolate!" one exclaimed. "I hope you burn in hell!" Mihael stopped laughing. He didn't like it when the stupid orphans cussed. What right did they have to cuss, anyway? They didn't have any parents or families. Besides, they were all just five years old. And even though Mihael was five years old as well, he was the only one who had a right to cuss because he didn't live in the stupid orphanage.

His moment of amusement over, Mihael picked up a nearby rock and hurled it toward the group of boys. It had successfully clobbered one in the back. The one who was hit instantly fell to the ground and started to cry like a baby.

"That's it!" he yelled to them. "Cry like the little baby you are! And don't let me catch you saying things like that again, got it?!" The orphan boys all scurried away from Mihael and out of sight, for fear of being attacked by another flying missile sent by Mihael. When they were gone, Mihael shoved the broken piece of chocolate in his mouth, smearing it on his face, and marched toward his house.

To his annoyance, Mihael had to pass Wammy's House- the local orphanage- in order to go home. He hated that place and all the stupid orphans living there. They were stupid and didn't deserve a place in society, his father had told him so. So, as per usual when he passed the building, Mihael, very vehemently, grabbed his usual branch and proceeded to bang incessantly on the wrought iron bars that made up the fence that surrounded the property.

"Stupid orphans!" he yelled as he did so. The ones playing in the orphanage playground all looked up at him with their distant eyes, each one wearing the devastated look of orphans. Mihael hated them.

When Mihael got home, he saw that his father was locked in his bedroom as usual and the boy didn't bother to disturb him. This was when his father liked to shove random things up his nose and browse through strange pictures of women on his computer. Mihael never understood why; his father told him he hated women, ever since Mihael's mother had left them a long time ago. Mihael's father had taught him that women were only good for one thing: to fuck, as his father had put it.

They were also rich as well. That was why Mihael always got what he wanted, flaunting his new toys in front of the orphans. And his father had also said that was why the police didn't arrest him after barging in one night when someone had reported Mr. Keehl driving under the influence. Mihael had been taught that money was the key to everything.

Mihael, with this philosophy, also went to prove his riches by buying his favorite candy every day: chocolate bars. He loved chocolate and ate it everyday. It was habit, it was a process. He couldn't go a day without it.

And then, something happened that night. Something out of the norm. Mihael had been fast asleep in his room when suddenly the door burst open, revealing the figure of his father. His father with flushed cheeks and red eyes. A usual sight for him. Except, this time, there was utter fear in his red eyes.

"Dad?" Mihael said, worried.

"Mihael…" he gasped out, clutching his chest. "Call an ambulance,… quickly!" As quickly as his chubby legs could allow him, Mihael jumped out of bed and raced to the telephone. There, tacked beside it, were a list of emergency phone numbers and Mihael dialed the number beside Ambulance, like his father told him in case of an emergency such as this. While his father staggered into the room, Mihael was describing the situation to the person on the other line. After assuring the frightened boy that an ambulance was on their way, Mihael grudgingly hung up the phone and turned to his father who was keeled over the kitchen sink, grasping the counter with white fingers.

"Dad?" Mihael said for the second time that night. After a few pants, Mr. Keehl managed to breathe out a response.

"Go to bed, Mihael," he said.

"But Dad-"

"Go, Mihael. I'll be fine. You were a good boy and called the ambulance. They're one their way now, right? I'll be fine. Just go to bed." Despite his labored breathing, Mr. Keehl sounded unusually calm. And though Mihael was unable to see his father's face, he reluctantly obeyed him and went to bed. Within minutes after lying in bed, the five-year old fell asleep.

He was awoken the next morning by a slight shake of his shoulder. Opening his eyes, Mihael saw a woman standing over him, clad in a business suit and smiling sweetly.

"Mihael?" she asked.

He nodded.

"I'm Ms. Parr from Social Services-"

"Where's my dad?" Mihael asked, suddenly frightened. The lady continued smiling but there was a peculiar look in her eye.

"He's sick at the moment," she said slowly. "Until he gets better, I'm suppose to take you to your new home where you can live until he can come to get you. Do you understand what I'm saying Mihael?"

Mihael paused for a moment and nodded.

"Good. Now, pack your things. Your new guardian is out in the living room." Mihael got out of bed and started moving around the room, stuffing various possessions of his in a suitcase he found in the hall closet. He mostly packed clothes, as well as his piggy bank that held the credit card to an account his father set up for him, in case something ever happened. In a few short minutes he was ready and Ms. Parr led him to the living room of their large house. There, Mihael saw a particularly elderly man with white hair, a white mustache, and closed eyelids behind a pair of spectacles.

"Mihael," said Ms. Parr. "This is Watari. He'll be taking you to your new home." Mihael froze at the name. He knew who this was. He was the owner of that stupid orphanage in town. Mihael grit teeth and- quite literally- put his foot down.

"Watari?! He exclaimed. "I don't want to go to no stupid orphanage! No thanks! I'll stay here until my dad gets better." Ms. Parr looked uneasily at Watari as the old man arched a white eyebrow.

"It'll only be a temporary effect," she assured the petulant boy. After a few more minutes of persuasion with both Watari's and Ms. Parr's words combined, they finally managed to convince the boy to go with him. And with that, they stuffed Mihael's suitcase in the back of an old car that seemed to have a new paint job, and were chugging along to Wammy's House. In the back seat, Mihael seethed. He tried consoling himself, thinking that his father would get better in no time and would take him out of that hell hole soon enough.

The car stopped outside the familiar wrought iron fence and Mihael got out. He was escorted inside by Ms. Parr as Watari took in the suitcase.

There were children all around. Children whose faces held the same desolate expressions of any orphans. Mihael scowled; he was not going to become one of them.

When they had reached inside, Ms. Parr had told him to go play with some of the other kids while her and Watari settled out the boring, legal stuff. Sighing irritably, Mihael stalked away from her. His feet took him to a living room of sorts. Only, there were no couches or sofas. Just hard, wooden chairs and various toys scattered about. Boring toys that were damaged or worn with excessive use. Mihael didn't feel like going outside so he sat next to a pile of blocks, picked one up for examinantion, and let it drop from his hands. Stupid orphans, he thought to himselg.

After a few minutes of waiting resolutely, another boy walked in. A boy Mihael never seen loitering outside the candy shop. This boy seemed a bit younger than himself. He had white hair and wore extremely baggy clothes that seemed way too big for his scrawny frame. And although his size suggested he was young, he had large, panda-like eyes that looked at everything with a bored interest and an intuition beyond his years. He seemed different than the other orphans. This new boy took a moment to look over Mihael and then, seemingly after deciding that he was of no significance, went over to the nearby pile of blocks and began to construct something.

Mihael narrowed his eyes at the boy. He seemed arrogant. But who was he to be arrogant if he was just an orphan?

"I'm Near," said the boy in monotone voice, not even sparing a glance to Mihael with the introduction. Mihael scoffed.

"Whatever," he said. "That can't be your real name. It's just a stupid word." Near shrugged, still preoccupied by the blocks.

"It's not my real name. But it's the only name people know me by. Watari doesn't let us reveal our real names. I'm guessing your name is Mihael." Mihael crossed his arms and held a stiff back. He didn't like this Near.

"So what if it is?" he asked in a cold voice. Near seemed unperturbed by Mihael's rudeness.

"You'll have a new name too."

"That's what you think."

"Everyone who comes to live here is given a new name. Why should you be any different from the rest of us?"

"Because I'm not a stupid orphan!" Mihael snapped. "As soon as my dad gets better, he's going to take me out of this place." Near stopped his constructing to look at he chubby newcomer inquisitively.

"Who told you that?" he asked. Mihael stuck out his lower lip.

"Ms. Parr." After hearing the name of the social worker, a look of realization passed over Near's face and he went back to focus his attention on the blocks.

"Ms. Parr lies. She tells kids what they want to hear, so long as she can get them to come here without crying. Except for Matt and L. They're the only ones Watari brought on his own." Mihael stared at this Near kid, eyes wide with bewilderment.

"You're lying! My dad is going to take me out of this place!" Near shrugged again.

"If you say so. Everyday you'll wait for him. And as you grow older, you'll just realize the truth and that he's never coming back. He's probably dead." Mihael rose to his feet in an angry flash.

"Shut up! Just shut up! You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Either way," Near continued. "I don't care. Your life is of no importance to me."

"Well then, how did you get here? Did Ms. Parr lie to you too? Are you expecting your dad to come and get you as well?"

"No. My parents are dead. I saw them die right before my very eyes. I was very young at the time. A deadly virus swept through the town. I was the only who survived-"

"Well aren't you so lucky?" Mihael noted sarcastically.

"And then L brought me here," Near concluded, as if he hadn't heard a single word from Mihael. Silence ensued between them for a few minutes as Near continued to build something that resembled an intricate fortress. Mihael glared at Near as he did this.

"I wonder what your new name will be," Near mused after a while, breaking the silence. With his statement, Mihael angrily kicked over the wall Near had built, sending the building blocks flying everywhere.

"I said shut up about that! I'm not going to have any stupid name!" At that precise moment, Mihael saw Ms. Parr step out of Watari's office. He rushed up to her, tugging on her skirt anxiously.

"Ms. Parr, Near says I'm going to have a new name. Near says that you're lying and my dad isn't going to come and take form this stupid place!" Ms. Parr spared a glance at the boy known as Near who had calmly picked up the fallen blocks and began to rebuild the fortress again. She gave a small groan.

"Ms. Parr! Tell him it isn't true!"

"Mihael," she said, looking for an escape. "I have to go now and settle some business with your father. Watari would look to speak with you in his office-"

"NO!" Mihael shrieked. "I don't want to talk to him! Take me out of here! I hate this stupid place! Where's my dad?!" Mihael hadn't noticed it when Near had stopped what he was doing to walk up to the two of them, slightly crouched.

"Don't act like such a baby," he said in his monotonous voice, making Mihael jump with surprise. "Only babies cry when they don't get their way." Mihael turned around to him, hands clenched into tight, chubby fists.

"Shut up!" he said, tears stinging his eyes. "You're just a jerk! I'll prove that I'm not a baby!"

"Then stop your sniveling," Near said. "And go in there and talk to Watari like you're suppose to." Mihael glared at him but, all the same, after wiping his nose on his sleeve, marched into Watari's office, Near following him.

"Hello Mihael," the old man greeted. "There are several things we need to discuss if you're going to be staying here."

There was a long speech about how Wammy's House was not only an orphanage but also a prestigious institution made to house extraordinarily gifted orphans. Mihael barely listened after that, thinking that because he wasn't an orphan that the rules didn't apply to him. His attention span tuned in and out of Watari's monologue describing the Wammy's House tradition.

"And, to protect you, you'll also need a name." Mihael glanced at Near beside him, expecting a smug "I told you so" at the mention of gaining a new name. But Near wasn't looking back at him. He looked straight at Watari.

"We could call him Mello," he suggested. "Because his head is as big as a melon." Mihael grit his teeth as Watari accepted this new name for him.

And so, he was now Mello.

From then on, Mello hated Near. For being so undeniably smart and perceptive, for being so calm about everything, for telling Mello that he was now an orphan, for giving him his namesake. And, ultimately, Mello hated Near because Near was an orphan. Near would often prove that, even if he was an orphan, he was always better than Mello. Mello hated that- growing up for the past five years in a firm belief that he was superior to all orphans. Near, however, seemed to be the exception of that. And Mello hated it. Often, Mello pushed himself to be better. But, no matter how hard he tried, Near seemed to always triumph over him. But there was one thing- even though Mello lost a lot of weight during his stay at the orphanage, he always held onto a fragment of his identity with chocolate. Every Saturday, when the orphans were allowed into town, he would take that credit card stashed away in the piggy bank and buy himself chocolate. For that day and everyday that week. Never sharing.

Because, it was chocolate that separated himself from the rest of the inferior orphans. Even Near himself.

Well, hope you liked it!

Please review!

-Nuit Songeur