What You're Sorry For

Okay, so as we all know, today is the death of (manga) Matt/Mail Jeevas. I wanted to make a dedication for him today, so I just thought up this quick fanfic. It's been a while since I've read or seen any Death Note, so I might not remember some things about some characters. However, just to let people know, if anyone doesn't like it just because things don't make sense, just remember that THIS IS MY FANFICTION, SO I CAN TYPE WHATEVER THE HELL I WANT. Enjoy! ^^

This story's from Sayu's PoV.

MattXSayu

Death Note belongs to Ohba and Obata.

I don't remember the last time that I said a full sentence. I don't remember the last time I went out with my friends. All I ever really do is sit in a wheelchair, being taken care of by my poor mother. I wish she wouldn't have to take care of me like this. I'm a full grown woman, but now I'm being cared for like a five year old. It wasn't my fault, though. I went through hell.
Dad was killed by the very people that kidnapped me. Mom and Light were really beaten down by it. I was too, but I'm not sure if any expressions other than sulking appear on my face anymore.
I sat in the middle of the living room, right in front of the t.v. I heard the news anchor on the t.v. mention that it was January 26, 2010. I didn't even realize that. Huh.
Mom walked into the room with her sweet smile. As she crouched down next to me, she whispered into my ear, "Good morning, Sayu. How are you feeling today?" I didn't reply, just as she expected. Still, she had to hope for my recovery. Sighing as she stood up, Mom stated, "I'll go get you some orange juice, okay?" I did not reply, but instead stare at the t.v. It was the usual news. Weather, sports, sales... Of course, it was missing another usual. Murder. It was instead replaced by news of Kira. Kira is our savior. Kira shines the light to a new and clear future. Kira, Kira, Kira. Kira killed my father. Kira got me kidnapped. Kira put me in this state. None of this would have started if it had not been for Kira.
Suddenly, I notice something moving outside. I lift my eyes a little to stare outside the window. A red convertable pulled over to the other side of the street. In front of it was a black motorcycle. Two men came out of the convertable, but one of them caught my eye immediately.
It was him! The man that kidnapped me!
I recognized him by his lengthy blonde hair and his leather outfit, which was covered up with a reddish coat that covered almost his whole body. What was he doing across the street, across from my house?
Did he come to take me again?
I also noticed the other man because of his smoking. The smoke gently swayed into the sky from the cigarette that sat on his lips. His red bangs covered the goggles that he wore over his eyes. He was only kept warm by his thick and furry vest that he wore over a red-and-black shirt. He also wore long leather gloves and matching boots. His jeans had a chain or something on it to stylize himself.
I recognized him as well. He was also among the kidnappers, but he was the one that didn't seem that into it. All he ever did was play a portable game in the corner. Whenever the blonde hair man told him to move me to some other place, he would seem unsure about it but then would do so. His name was right on the tip of my tongue... (Or, my mind, since I don't exactly see me talking any time soon)
The twosome were talking about something, though I wasn't exactly sure. I still thought that they were here to kidnap me again, but the blonde one left on the motorcycle. There he was again, the red-head, thinking to himself, looking unsure. He then walked to the trunk of his car (I presumed.
I thought he was going to leave as soon as he was done with what he was doing. I don't know why, but I desperately wanted to know what in the world he was up to.
As silly and stupid of an urge it was, it sure was motivating.
I suddenly found myself standing up. It has been a while, so my knees kind of whobbled. After I learned how to walk again, I ran outside quietly through the front door.
I began to have fear of what might happen. First off, what was in the trunk? Second, what if he saw me, and what if he used whatever was in his trunk to hurt me? What was it of me to act upon my urges instead of my fears? I never would have normally done something like this before. Then again, I did go through hell, so that might change a person a bit.
I noticed that the man was about to shut his trunk's cover, which was the only thing that kept me out of his eyesight. Without a moment's hesitation, I crouched and tip-toed along the side of the parallel to the man's movements. He got into the driver's seat.
Unfortunately, I got into the back seat. I slammed the door in unison with his door, since I didn't want to get caught so soon.
Wait, why am I doing this in the first place? Do I really want to get caught by my ex-kidnapper? (Well, kidnapper's assistant, but same difference)
The man began driving the car down the street. No wonder Mom never let me sit on the floor of the car while she drives. It's uncomfortable!! I tried holding back my grunts every time something pokes into my side. Oh, yeah. I never thought about what my remarkable action caused. Mom must have noticed that I was gone by now. She must be happy that I'm walking, and extremely worried about where the hell I was at. I will have to apologize to her after this. IF I ever convince myself how to get out of this situation.
Suddenely, the man's phone rang.
He answered it, saying, "Matt speaking."
That was his name! Matt! Okay, that's one thing off my mind.
"Yeah," he suddenly said. "... I'll be there in about ten minutes, tops." After a moment, he hung. He sighed. Whatever he was planning, he didn't like it one bit. "You better be right about this, Mello..." he muttered to himself. Mello? The man with blonde hair, perhaps.

About ten minutes later, I took a peek out the window. I looked at some of the buildings. Where were we? Matt reached for something in the passenger seat next to him. It was something metal. A gun?! What does he plan on doing with that thing? He sat it on his lap. He grabbed two more things from the seat. A cigarette box and a lighter. He got one fresh cigarette out and set it on his lips. (Did I just realize how smooth his lips were? Not bad for a guy who probably smoked all of his life.) He lit the cigarette with the lighter before putting the lighter back down. After exhaling a big puff of smoke, he picked up his gun.
Suddenly, the car jerked sideways as Matt turned the steering wheel. I grunted, for it scared the shit out of me, but it wasn't heard over the screeching of the tired. Looking up, I saw Matt point the gun out the window. Is he gonna shoot someone?! He pulled the trigger, but what happened next wasn't what I expected. There was no gun shot. It was more of a "plomp!". Then, a storm cloud or something appeared. Then, Matt, drove away. So it wasn't a shooting gun. It was a smoke gun.
"Heh, they should buy it now," Matt said to himself. He sounded confident, but through the rearview mirror, I saw on his face sorrow. It was as though he was worried. That's when I felt sorry for him. He's doing something devious (which I still have no clue as to what), but he really has no desire to. If he really doesn't want to do something to get the police chasing, then there must be a good reason as to why. My sympathies made me sad.
Unfortunately, when I'm usually sad like this, I get hiccups.
Uh-oh.
After the first escape of a hiccup, Matt froze, but the car kept on speeding. I kept on hoping that he would just think that was his engine. The second hiccup came, and this time, Matt looked in the rearview mirror. Oh, shit... He saw me.
"Who the hell are you?!" he demanded. I was afraid he was going to pull over to demand information out of me, but I didn't believe it because one, he was in the middle of a speed chase, and two, I now highly doubt he was that kind of person.
"Uh, I-" I began, but then I gasped. It's been a while since I've heard my own voice. I touched my neck, surprised about hearing my voice. Matt glanced at me through the mirror again. I saw through his yellow goggles his eyes. The irises were... gold? Brown?
"You're... Sayu Yagami," Matt suddenly said. For some reason, it made me slightly happy that he would remember my name, ever since that incident... "What are you doing in my car?" he sudenly said, trying to sound tough again.
"S-sorry," I stuttered. I was still adjusting to my voice. "You were outside my house... and... I saw you, and..."
"Forget it," Matt said, looking at the road. "I don't exactly have time to drop you off. If you don't mind, if you're hitching a ride, at least put a seat belt on." I looked at him for a moment. He must have notice because he looked a bit agitated. "Well, come on. Hurry up." Even though the car was going - what, eighty, ninety miles per hour? - I scooted myself up onto the seat and clicked on my seatbelt. "You're not going to make this a lot more difficult than it should be, are you?"
"No, sir," I replied, looking down at the ground. Now that I've been caught, I felt like a prisoner again.
"You don't have to call me sir," Matt said, his eyebrow raised.
"Okay..." I said. He was sounding so tough, but he wasn't trying to scare me or anything like that at all.
"Hey..." Matt suddenly said a minute later. "... Sorry..."
"...F-for what?" I asked, confused.
"... Nothing," he replied, looking serious again. For the rest of the speed chase that was going on, not another word was spoken.