Author's Note: Blaaaaaaargh! ...Hallo. So, yes, I come bearing more fanfic. Huzzahs all around! Humph. So, I've been having some issues with this part of the story. I have angst and fluff galore written for later chapters... it's just the in-betweens that drive me totally insane! I HATE them! I have so much I want to do with this story and no way to fast forward through all of these damned filler chapters. (Poutpoutpout) Intense hatred.

Disclaimer: Don'townitdidn'tdoityoucan'tproveanything'kaybye!

.II.

Mihael studied the top of Mail's head over the edge of his book, having given up on actually absorbing the words about ten minutes earlier. The redhead was sprawled across every inch of the window seat Mihael had not occupied, laying on his back with both legs extending awkwardly up the wall as his thumbs stabbed avidly at his handheld (which was shoved so close to his face it was a wonder his eyes were even able to focus on it).

After they had been relieved of their gardening duties, Mihael had expected to part ways with his new acquaintance. Their civility for the duration of the detention, he could understand--they had had a common goal, and when Mail got bored, he had been the only reasonable solution. He could also justify the alliance they seemed to have formed--they were the same age, of a similar physical build (Mail may have been larger than the blond, but it was not hard to see that Mihael was in the beginnings of a growth spurt) and they had relatively similar intellects; it only made sense for them to enter into a mutually beneficial affiliation.

However, he had not thought Mail was serious when he had casually thrown out the term 'friend.'

So, later in the afternoon, when the redhead had appeared at the door of Mihael's bedroom to drag him off to the kitchen for a snack, then to Mail's room for his Gameboy, on a daring quest for batteries, and back to Mihael's room to stock up on chocolate and fetch sufficient reading material, before finally ending in their current situation… he had been, justifiably, surprised.

Mihael did not have friends--he had cronies, minions, underlings…. Having an influential father certainly had its benefits, but it was only a perk when one was more intelligent than said father by the age of five. He had never had an equal; children his age had squabbled for his favor, practically tripping over themselves to fulfill his smallest whim. Mail, though obviously submissive, was not like the brainless court he had assembled back home--he had an impressive mind… and was, for all intents and purposes, Mihael's equal.

The idea of it thrilled and disturbed him at the same time. Though he had spent his younger years yearning for someone able to keep pace with him, he had also been comfortable with his status as some sort of sovereign ruler who was never to be questioned.

Wammy's was a whole new world for him; this institution of prodigy children, lorded over by a mysterious eccentric whose very word was law. Mihael was no longer unique. Each child was more clever than the last. He just faded into the crowd here….

What was the purpose, anyway? Why assemble this group of child geniuses? And what was L's connection? He did not own or direct the orphanage… Mihael had met both Mr. Wammy and Roger the day he arrived. He was just… there, appearing at random, wandering the halls like a ghost, little more than a revered whisper among the orphans. He knew almost nothing of L, none of them did. He had only managed to put together that he was a detective of some sort and alarmingly brilliant; his own run-in with the man the day before had left him with an unexplainable impression of awe and respect. It frightened him, he didn't know how to deal with it… he--

"Hey, Mihael."

He blinked, realizing with a start that he was staring straight into Mail's vibrant blue eyes. "...What?" How long had he been lost in thought…?

"You gonna eat that chocolate?"

He furrowed his brow at the pure normalcy of the inquiry, glancing down at the bar in question. "Yes."

"All of it?" Mail pouted.

"Yes."

"Can I have a little bit?" He smiled at him hopefully.

"No." His face fell and Mihael had to fight back a smirk--Mail looked like a puppy that had just been scolded, and that tiny bit of control over the other boy's emotions was beginning to evoke the confidence that had been locked away when he left Russia.

"Why not?"

A resounding click from across the empty room caught his attention. "Just drop it, Jeevas." He perked up warily, looking toward the door as it swung slowly open, revealing a small, rumpled figure standing just outside, staring at them with unnaturally large, emotionless gray eyes.

Mihael cocked an eyebrow at the younger boy's appearance, taking in the wrinkled white pajamas and introverted posture at a glance, before returning his gaze to a pale face, only to find those unnerving eyes fixed on him in return. He met the stare challengingly, resisting the urge to shudder at the impression that the other boy was looking right through him, analyzing him and weighing his worth.

It was over as soon as it began, the clash taking no more than a few seconds, as the other broke the eye contact, turning his attention to Mail. Mihael bristled, clenching his fist; no one had ever brushed him aside so thoughtlessly.

"Who the heck are you?" he spat, at the same time as Mail exclaimed, "Hey, Nate!"

He glanced at the redhead out of the corner of his eye, surprised by the tone of his voice--warm, welcoming, with an overlying hint of respect.

"Mail." The voice was just as blank and cold as the eyes accompanying it.

Mihael turned his glare back to the newcomer, gritting his teeth as the comfortable, companionable aura of moments earlier morphed into a stifled, awkward silence. Mail glanced back and forth between Mihael and Nate as the two blatantly sized each other up.

"Nate," he said slowly, getting to his feet, "this is Mihael Keehl." He gestured diplomatically to the blond beside him, trying to break the tension. "Mihael, this is my friend Nate River."

Mihael barely nodded, narrowing his eyes and taking a vicious bite of his chocolate as the younger boy slowly twirled a lock of platinum hair around a finger, staring unblinkingly back.

Finally, Nate broke the glaring contest, shifting his calculating gaze to Mail. "It's nearly dinnertime, Mail."

"R-right." The redhead quickly gathered up his handheld, stuffing it into his pocket and hurrying after Nate as the other boy turned silently from the room. Halfway to the door, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder to where Mihael was still slouched in the window seat, observing Mail with stony eyes. "Are you hungry, Mihael?"

The blond stared at him for a moment, before tearing deliberately into his chocolate. "No."

Mail sighed, watching an afternoon of progress swirl down the drain right before his eyes. "Okay. Um… see you tomorrow?"

"Maybe." Mihael picked up his book, effectively dismissing the other boy as he settled back against the wall.

"Bye, Mihael," Mail whispered, crestfallen, before disappearing into the hall.

Mihael glanced at the door as it eased shut, taking a deep breath. He'd never had a friend before… what had made him think, even for a second, that this place would be any different…? He didn't need friends. …He didn't need Mail.

Pursing his lips, he buried himself back in his book.

Mail bit his lip thoughtfully, rocking back on the balls of his feet as he gazed out the common room window, watching as the evening breeze gently tussled honey blond hair. Mihael had been out there for almost an hour now, sitting motionless on the same patch of yellowing grass near the fence, simply staring. The redhead huffed in soft consternation.

It had been nearly a week since his encounter with the new boy—he had thought that Mihael would have gotten over whatever unfriendly bug had burrowed under his skin at the sight of Nate by now. But no. It had been rare to even catch sight of the blond the past few days... and the icy glares were enough to put anyone off. He'd known, the instant they'd met, that the other boy held a mean grudge.

He ran an agitated hand back through tangled crimson locks. Honestly, he wasn't even sure why he really cared. So what if the little brat wanted to be an antisocial hermit who lived off of chocolate bars? It shouldn't make any difference to him. He'd lived without him for nine years already, hadn't he? There was just... some odd charisma that drew him to the other boy... the same strange, overwhelming aura that surrounded Nate; a hint of greatness, intrigue, and mystery. The same feeling deep in the pit of his stomach that he got around L.

Mihael Keehl was something big.

He glanced down to where Nate was absorbed in a model airplane, laying on his back on the floor as the plane looped and twirled in nimble fingers above a snowy head.

Why did he get the feeling that it had to be one or the other? The other day, when the two had met, it had felt like a challenge had been silently put forth and accepted. Like two generals of opposing armies squaring off for the final duel. Only one could reign supreme, come out victorious... only one could win.

He shook his head slightly, glancing up to look once more out the window. Why did everything in this stupid orphanage have to be so bloody difficult!?

Turning away from the window, he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes with a sigh. "Hey, Nate," he said, his head lolling back languidly. When the rustling of cloth accompanying the plane's movements ceased, he looked down at his friend. "Let's play Mario Kart."

Mihael yawned widely, stretching his arms high over his head as he clomped carelessly up the steps to the front doors of the orphanage, the setting sun casting his exaggerated shadow along the full length of the marble entrance hall. Trailing along the wall of the hallway, he dodged a group of shrieking young boys sprinting in the opposite direction, the haggard caretaker chasing after them, and skirted a small gaggle of girls clumped at the corner.

"Hey, Mihael!"

He paused, mid stride, in the doorway of the common room. A head of flaming red hair was poked over the couch, grinning and waving him over enthusiastically. Mihael blinked, taking a hesitant step back in the direction he had been heading, before rocking back toward Mail. "Come play with us!" the other boy pleaded.

"Us?" he asked incredulously, cocking an eyebrow.

"Er... yeah..." Cerulean blue eyes flicked to the side as the bright scenery on the television screen flashed across silvery white hair. Mihael scowled, taking another firm step down the hall.

"No," he said simply, openly ignoring Nate as the younger boy turned to glance lazily at him over his shoulder, "I'd rather not."

Mail's face fell and he slumped forward to sprawl over the back of the couch. "Aw, why not?" he whined.

"I--"

"Competition frightens him, Mail," Nate said simply, turning back to the television decisively, "leave him be."

Mihael growled, feeling his eye twitch subtly as he stormed furiously into the room. Rounding the couch, he threw himself irately onto a cushion. "What are we playing?" he grouched, crossing his arms over his chest.

Mail grinned, scrambling forward to plug the third controller into the Nintendo 64 and tossing it to Mihael. "Mario Kart! You can be Peach!" He crawled back to lean against the foot of the couch between Mihael's legs and Nate's small, silent form on the floor.

"I can be what, now?" the blond asked scathingly, picking the controller up by the cord and pinching it between his fingers, pegging it with a disdainful glare.

"Peach," Mail grinned mischievously, switching over to a three player game, "Anyway, it's a race. Whenever you get a box, you can use the thing inside it against the other players. You can throw bombs at them... or... slip them up with a banana peel... well, you get the idea." He pressed start, settling back against the couch contentedly.

Mihael grit his teeth, taking the controller into both hands determinedly. "Who are you?" he asked, glancing at Mail out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm Bowser. The dinosaur." He pointed at the edge of the screen, before gesturing to his own head. "We have matching hair, y'see."

Mihael rolled his eyes, glancing over the other two. "Wait-- hey! The hell, Jeevas!? You made me a friggin' girl!" He scowled furiously as Mail broke into a fit of laughter and Nate bit back an amused smile. Growling, he wrenched to his feet, flinging the controller to the cushion beside Mail's head.

"Hey, hey!" Mail laughed, throwing himself forward to latch onto the leg of Mihael's pants, "It was only a joke! In honor of how we first met, yeah?" He smiled beseechingly up at the blond, who merely glared at him. "Play with me."

Nate's eyes flicked in Mail's direction as he said that last line, his eyebrows furrowing in slight consternation at the words.

Finally, Mihael sighed, settling back into the cushions petulantly. "Fine," he growled, "But give me another character."

Mail grinned. "Right then... so... how do you feel about Italians...?"

Mihael rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Jeevas, just get on with it, already." His eyes wandered across the screen again."So... River's the little... mushroom-looking thing...?"

"Yeah, that's Toad," Mail said absently, now completely focused on the game.

The on screen traffic light began to shift colors, and Mihael grinned, straightening up excitedly, eyes shifting from the back of Nate's head to his virtual character maliciously. "Okay. Let's go!"

To be continued.

Wow, I'm lame! Let the metaphorical video games begin! lol. Though, in my defense, I have been playing excessive amounts of Mario Kart the last few days... and Toad is totally Near. I HATE him. So much. Anyhoo... yeah, sorry the end of the chapter was made entirely of fail. I just... I really want to get on with the story. Blegh. Stupid friggin' intro! HATRED! Yeah. So. Sorry it's so short and crappy. Apologies.

Reviews

-White-Arctic-Wolf-: (Reels in) lol, thanks so much for reading, I'm glad you like it. Oh! And here... have a virtual chocolate bar for being the first reviewer! (Whisper: ...I stole it from Mello's stash... surely he won't miss one measly little piece. ...Right?) Ev: (Blush) Wow, don't spoil me! First chapters are very, very rarely worthy of such praise! Thank you for considering mine one of them! I'm so glad you like it so far and hope you keep reading. Dawn-at-midnight: Haha, thanks for reading! It was always my plan to continue it. I just want to skip all the boring intro stuff and get to the drama! This is going to be such a soap opera by the time I'm done! lol. ...That's probably a bad thing, huh? Ugh. Akura: I agree. All the great writers are drawn to Light and L (d'oh!) though I'm not really complaining. Haha. Though there are some reeeeeeeally good ones out there. If you're still having issues, let me know! I have a list! Heh. Oh, and thanks for reading. Hee. Zeda: No problem. I'm freaking addicted to that group. (Blush) I'm on it waaaaay too much. It's probably not healthy. Thanks for reading! Mattress: Matt's just so hard to characterize, y'know? I mean... we don't really see him much. So, I guess everyone has their own personal perfect Matt, and it'd be really hard to please everyone. I'm sorry you're iffy... maybe I'll do better later! (Crosses fingers) But thanks for reading, I hope you continue! Sixverstein: Oh, that LJ is a horrible thing, getting people addicted to random stuff... Haha, I'm glad you like it, there's nothing better than stumbling onto stuff you like by accident. Thanks for reading! They Call Me Soysauce: ...Cookie!? (drools) Um. Um. Here! Have an update! Cookiecookiecookie! Gimme my cookie! ...ahem. Yes. Er. Thanks for reading... (Slinks away to live out cookie-induced-humiliation in a dark corner) JewelummsXO: I always like the real name usage too. It just doesn't make sense that they would immediately give them an alias. "Okay, orphan-smarty-pants, welcome to Wammy's! Here, have a new identity!" Yeah, what? Riiiiiiight. Anyhoo, thanks for reading! sei mong: (Beams) Yay, goop puddles! I love that feeling, I'm so glad I could cause it for someone else! Hopefully, you'll be experiencing that side effect again in the near future! Thanks for reading! Tsuki: Woot! I had so much fun with that video. I'm so glad you like them both! I hope this one lives up to your expectations. Thanks for reading! Aclatis: ...YOU! Bwoff! Hello, muse. I hope you know it's all your fault that I can't find the inspiration to write more. That I have to painfully wrack my brains to even come up with anything slightly interesting. I hope you're happy. I hope you're happy, now. Humph. youreverlastinglight: Oh, really!? Thanks! I'm so flattered to hear that! ...I always make fun of that song's title, too. Haha, no worries. So, I went back and read it with it playing, and couldn't stop giggling, because it really is perfect! Ha! Then I remembered it's actual scene and got all emo and had to go eat chocolate. Oh, my beloved L. (Sniffle) ...Yeah, don't listen to any of the Mello themes until the sequel, okay!? lol, thanks for reading!

Bwoff, people!