A/N: Tabby here! Chapter two has arrived!! Just to let you know, I should be able to update this at least every other day. :) Please review for the next chapter!
. s a v a g e .
; memoir.
induction.
I had never been one to make creative entrances.
I was almost invisible, and it seemed like I only got noticed by people who didn't have a right conscience. They were like moths drawn to a null flame, and I had let them transform me into something I don't recognize anymore. It's not that I don't have a sense of right and wrong, just a pretty blurred vision of this world Kira is trying to create. A world without criminals? But then how could someone decipher between good and evil? This was just a bad situation, and I feel like I've just made it worse. I desired to be a cameo in this whole production, just another face to most people who had no idea what they had coming to them. And apparently, that was what allowed me my place under Mello.
He had me sit down in a worn office chair, and of course, it was too dark to see his face. It was clear that he didn't want me to. I had caught a glimpse of his cornsilk colored hair, shaped neatly in a feminine bob, brushing lightly against his smaller shoulders. His hands were just a bit larger than mine, which was not big at all. He would be short, too - if it weren't for the platform combat boots that were laced to his feet.
Just how old was he now? Fifteen? Sixteen?
The crack in the blinds allowed some light to shed through, allowing some of his profile to be on display. His skin looked smooth, sunkissed. He had the coldest blue eyes, that narrowed only slightly, just enough to be intimidating. They were deeper than mine, and that was something I envied most about this familiar leather clad boy. All of the sudden, the portion of his face that I managed to see crinkled up, his lips curving upward in a mischievous grin. This provoked my own crooked smile, and I felt my hair being stroked, a strange sensation at the least. He was leaned over the desk, his gloved hand trailing along the side of my face. My smile faded. His fingers, trailing down my cheek now, made me too uncomfortable - I found it hard to breathe. It disgusted me, to say the least, that he would touch me so affectionately. I tilted my chin up, pressing my lips in a fine line, and he froze, taking his hand away.
"And here I thought that you would say something," He muttered, the sick grin flaunted in his voice. I sneered, trying to find his gaze in the dark.
"I have nothing to say."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"You sure? 'Cause this is your chance before you're not able to talk to me like you normally would."
"Or what?" I said quietly, blinking. He didn't like that too much. I heard him growl and curse under his breath. He was containing himself, probably to the best of his ability.
"Or I'll slap the hell out of you," He hissed, visibly tensing.
Despite my true intentions of helping Mello, I realized then that pleasing him would be the hardest thing to do. The drugs, the alcohol, the prostitutes. All of his favorite trump cards. He'd just ignore everything else, wouldn't listen to anyone, and would die alone. I think that he'd already accepted that, though. It didn't affect me at all - I knew Mello was a problem way back when.
"Of course, abuse is always a way of getting people to do what you want." I replied, apathetic and tiredly. Mello had such a temper. A rebel since he was young, with no future but to die for something he couldn't reach. That was always his plan. The silence had grown tense, he refused to speak, though I felt his angry trembles from the other side of the desk.
"Having me blow up a casino wasn't the brightest idea for an inductional task, you know."
This only seemed make the mood darker. It was a few more seconds of complete quiet before he piped up.
"It's another diversion for Kira, dumbass. I've been trying to get as many of these things to happen at once so it'll give me more time to think. And as long as you keep quiet and don't tell anyone your real name, I doubt Kira can reach us." He snapped, leaning back in his chair and kicking his feet up on the desk, folding his hands behind his head. His eyes closed.
This surprised me. Kira? I knew Mello was after him, but..to have me intentionally blow up a building full of innocent people just to prove a point? That Kira wasn't smart enough to figure it out? I huffed. I was growing tired of Mello's games. But as usual, I didn't object. I sat still, motionless while people were dying. While Mello's mind was turning up these stupid ideas that would eventually kill us all. Was it really that hard to catch a man? Mello must've sensed the change in my mood, because he laughed gruffly. I scoffed to myself. Was I really that easy to read? I had worked on my emotions for years, and yet this, of all things, was coaxing them out of their bat cave where everything else I don't need goes. He sighed.
"You've always been the ambitious type, you just don't like to show it. You know you enjoyed planting those explosives.."
I could hear the smile in his voice. A witty reply? Nope, that wouldn't do in this situation. It got me thinking, actually thinking about what to say. Had I really enjoyed myself while people suffered in the fire that I created? No. I remember briefly feeling the adrenaline and slight regret, but enjoying myself..it just didn't work out that way. I pursed my lips, subtly throwing a fit of confusion. Honestly..
"I didn't feel a thing," I retorted, in a resigned tone. He really knew how to get me worked up, just by asking me a simple question. That was because I hated Mello, and I was afraid of him. Not of him physically, hell - he's just a little taller than me. But emotionally, he's the one who knew me enough to hurt me. I heard him sucking on his bottom lip, but I was blinded by the dark. I wanted to look him in the eyes. Even if it was just one time, I'd tell him everything without saying anything at all. I think he knew that, too.
"..Really? That's not surprising at all, coming from someone who catered to a fucking human sheep," He snapped, and the chair creaked as he stood, his boots clonking on the wooden floor. He came closer, and I leaned the opposite direction of his noises. I grinned in spite of myself. He still harbored that deadly grudge against Near, the primary successor of the man we never got to see, but wasted our childhood on. I did take to the fair skinned, ivory haired boy that barely spoke, playing his games all astray on the floor, his timid hand placing the pieces with clear intellect. He was always first. Others would cater to him, just to have the privilege of saying that they did. I looked up, the light suddenly flicking on. It was bad lighting, but enough to luminate the room. I immediately glanced behind my shoulder, meeting a pair of blazing, angry blue eyes. I felt satisfaction swell in my chest.
"It's been a while, Mihael," I murmured, smirking, and I got a silly grin in return. That was his real name, after all. He let me call him that occasionally at the orphanage, though it was forbidden. Even then, at eight years old, we were smart enough to learn the trick of the trade. You tell me yours, I'll tell you mine.
"Welcome to Los Angeles, Resa."
ALSOOOO:
I would like to feature some reviewers in the next chapter (just to get more people recognized) so make sure you write something! It doesn't matter if it's in Spanish, just say somethinnn'. :)
-Tab
