A/N: I know I said updates would be on Thursdays, but I have some extra time right now, so I'm adding it today. I'm sure none of you fine people mind hahaha. :D
Thanks for reading!
xXx
Matt adjusted fairly well to his new life in Wammy's house. He kept to himself and no one paid him much mind at all. But after a while, the children started to notice something odd about him. He always finished his food, which wasn't in and of itself odd, but once he was done he returned his dishes to the kitchen – something no one else did. He insisted on cleaning them himself. Both of these tasks were generally done by the servants, which Mr. Wammy hired many of. He also insisted that he wash his own clothes and change his own sheets. Many times, he was even found scrubbing floors simply because he wanted to.
It was on one such occasion that one of them decided to ask him about it.
Matt was alone, on his hands and knees, brush in one hand, bucket of soapy water by his elbow. His striped sleeves were rolled up and his glasses were starting to slide down his nose as he bent over the floor he was scrubbing intently.
He was intent on his own thoughts and on his task and didn't notice the other child's approach. After a few moments, however, he could feel someone's gaze on him. He glanced up and jumped slightly at the sight of the child standing not two feet from him. He recovered quickly, pretending he hadn't been startled at all.
"Hey Mello," he said softly. Whenever Matt spoke it was always quietly. He never raised his voice, never tried to talk over anyone else. If what he said was missed, he let it go without trying to repeat himself.
Mello, on the other hand, was not known for his subtlety. "Why do you do that Matt?" he demanded, pointing at the brush in Matt's hand. His tone was harsh.
Matt frowned. "Why? Am I not supposed to?"
Mello seemed taken aback. "Why would you?" he asked, genuinely curious.
Matt shrugged and looked down at the soapy water beneath his hands. "It's what I've always done. I did it for Mother, and at the orphanage, and I figured…" He broke off with a shrug. "I'm sorry it bothers you." Apparently satisfied with the conversation, Matt went back to his laborious task.
Mello, however, wasn't finished. "Some of the other kids make fun of you, you know." He didn't say it unkindly, more as a statement of fact.
Matt sighed, apparently resigned to giving up his task for the moment, and sat back on his heals. He dropped the brush back into the bucket and looked up at Mello, pushing his glasses higher up on his nose with his wrist as he did so - his hands still being coated in soap. "What does that matter?" he asked, looking up into Mello's face.
Mello frowned. "Don't you care what people think of you?"
Matt shrugged. "Not really."
"That's probably why you were never adopted," Mello said bluntly.
Instead of showing any hurt emotions, Matt kept his stare level. "From the look of things, neither were you," he said.
Mello's face turned red. He looked like he was going to yell at Matt, but instead said nothing.
Matt stood, finished for the moment with the floor and with Mello, picked the bucket up by the handle and headed back toward the kitchen.
"Hey!" Mello called after him. "You can't just leave after something like that!"
Matt didn't even turn, just lifted his free hand and waved once before disappearing inside the servant's door.
He set down the bucket on the floor by the door and headed over to the sink. He picked up a few dirty dishes and lowered them into the soapy water with a sigh.
"What's his problem anyway?" he asked himself. Then he shook his head. If Mello wanted to be a jerk, that was his problem. Though Matt couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of disappointment – he had hoped they could perhaps be friends.
Matt glanced around the kitchen – not having done so when he'd first entered – and saw that he was alone. Then he check the clock on the wall and understood; at this time of day, most of the servants would be out working in the gardens.
He had just set aside the dishes and begun working on a huge cast iron skillet when he heard Mello come in. He paid him no heed – technically one wasn't supposed to wash a cast iron skillet, but this one was an exception and he had to try not to ruin it.
When Mello spoke, he sounded very angry. "What the hell was that?" Mello demanded.
"What the hell was what?" Matt asked evenly, his eyes never leaving the sink.
"What makes you think you can talk to me like that?"
Matt shrugged. "What makes you think I can't?"
Mello was stunned into silence, and Matt took the opportunity to speak. He figured that if he didn't now, Mello might not give him the chance later.
Matt glanced back over his shoulder so he could watch Mello's expression. "Why do you think I should treat you with respect?" Matt asked. "You give me none, I show you none. That's how it works. You want to be my friend, you treat me like a friend. You want me to look up to you, I'll end up looking down on you. I don't like people who try to force authority on themselves when they don't deserve authority."
"That's a pretty speech for someone who works in the kitchens," Mello snapped, his face red. Matt wondered if it was really Mello talking or just his wounded pride.
Matt shrugged again. "I choose to do this because I want to. You asked me why, I told you. You shouldn't get mad at me because I'm not upset about what you said. And you shouldn't be upset about what I said because you did the same to me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really want to get this done." After he said that, Matt expected Mello to walk away, but he didn't.
"You do owe me respect. I'm better than you are. My scores are higher, I work harder, and… and I'm older than you!"
Matt looked up, thinking. "Really? How old are you?"
Mello glared. "Thirteen."
Matt shrugged. "Alright then. So you are. But Near's younger than both of us, remember?"
"Yeah but-"
Matt easily lifted the heavy black iron skillet he'd just rinsed from the sink and swung it around to point it at Mello. He only needed one hand to lift it. "No. I'm done listening to you. If you're honestly trying to pick a fight, fine. We can take it outside, but you know I'll win. And I don't really want to fight you anyway." Mello backed away a step and Matt didn't follow him. "I told you. You want my respect, you respect me. You want to be friends, you be friends with me. If you don't, then get the hell out cause I have no patience for people like you." He turned and set the skillet on the counter and started washing another pan in the sink.
After a few moments he still didn't hear the door open or close. Instead of speaking, he simply waited.
"…I don't have any friends," he heard Mello say.
"Why do you think that is?" Matt asked, trying to sound kind.
"I don't know," Mello said honestly. "I've got people that hang around me and stuff but they're not really my friends. All they care about are my scores."
"Is that all you care about Mello?"
"….No."
Matt smiled, his back still to the other, knowing he was gaining ground. "That's all you ever seem to talk about."
"It's all that matters here," Mello told him. "Though you don't seem to have realized it yet."
Matt set down the pan, dried his hands on a towel, and turned to face the blond, his hands resting on the counter on either side of him. "It's all that matters as far as becoming the next L is concerned. But I don't care about that."
Mello seemed not to know how to respond to that.
"I know I'm smart. My tests all said so. But I'm not smarter than you or Near. One of you will be the next L, so why should I concern myself with something that won't happen?"
Mello frowned and a slight crease formed on his forehead. "So what are you doing here?"
"I can't tell you that. Not yet anyway."
"Why not?"
Matt considered how to phrase his answer for a moment. "Cause my reason for being here might change. It all depends on… well you, really." He didn't add that it depended slightly on Near too.
"Me?" Mello repeated, perplexed.
"Mm-hmm." Matt smiled a little. "I'll tell you when it's time."
"How will I know when that is?"
"Trust me, you'll know."
"How?" Mello insisted, looking a little annoyed.
Matt bit back a laugh. "I'll either tell you why I'm here… or I'll leave."
"That makes no sense at all," Mello snapped.
"I know," Matt replied easily. "But it will. Just give it time."
The conversation ended there and Matt went back to work. Mello didn't help him, but he couldn't bring himself to leave either. He pulled up a kitchen stool and sat on it, watching Matt work for nearly an hour before he spoke again.
"So we can really be friends?" he asked suddenly.
Matt smiled, not looking up. "Yeah, we can," he assured him. "Just stop being a dick and be honest with me."
"That's all it takes?" Mello seemed suspicious.
"Yep," Matt reassured him. "That's all it takes."
