Today is the greatest day I've ever known
Their memories fade like old Polaroid pictures
"What are we dying for?" Matt asks as he stands there, a half empty pack of cigarettes in one hand and his keys in the other. Mello watch the little plastic Mario sway back and forth by Matt's fingers.
"Is this really the time to ask that?" Mello sighs in exasperation, running a hand through his messily cut hair. He reminds himself that he should never trust Matt with a pair of scissors when he remembers a day with too-blue skies and too-green grass.
And then he scowls because this is not the time to remember that either.
"Better late than never," Matt shrugs as he slips a cigarette in his mouth but doesn't reach for his lighter and the unlit smoke is suddenly all-too similar to a chewed-up lollipop stick in a small redhead's mouth.
And then he smiles because this was the only time to remember this.
And their lips match like Tetris pieces.
"Stay safe," Matt lies as his lips brush against Mello's in a way that makes Mello believe him.
Even though he knows better to.
But Matt pulls away and smiles genuinely in a way that makes Mello want to grab him and never let him go.
Even though he knows he can't. Not now and not ever again.
So Mello pulls him back as Matt turns away and wraps his arms around the redhead so hard it hurts.
"You too," He whispers and Matt doesn't nod.
Their skin is fragile and pale like a doll's
They knew exactly what they were getting themselves into.
But they wouldn't turn back for anything. Not now and not ever.
And even as Mello watch the bullets dig themselves into Matt's porcelain flesh, he feels so guilty for expecting spidery cracks to spread across the skin.
The bullets broke Matt, and this time, Mello won't live to put the pieces back together.
"I'm sorry," was all he can say as he holds the silver rosary like he wanted to hold Matt. He said it once and he'll say it forever if it brought Matt back.
But they weren't little kids anymore, sitting around the common room on a lazy afternoon, playing with toy guns as if it wouldn't kill them.
As if forever wouldn't run out some day. As if that day wasn't today.
If Matt were sitting beside him at this moment, he'd tell Mello that "it's okay" but Matt was broken like the dusty old dolls in the attic and not sitting next to him right now.
So Mello can only hold his rosary because Matt is not here for him to hold.
and their hands fit together like puzzle pieces.
Mello hopes that Near will see Matt's death and he hopes that Kira will be caught.
Because this was what they did it for and this is why his hand feels so empty without something to hold on to.
The shape of the cross was irregular in his palm and it digs into his skin in a way that does not feel right at all.
But it was the only thing he had left so he'll hang onto it like he wants to hang onto Matt.
They died like superheroes
Mello knows that Takada has a piece of the Death Note tucked into her lacy bra.
He knows that Yagami Light is Kira.
He knows that L didn't, will not lose.
And he knows that Matt isn't dead. He just isn't living, either.
Neither of them are superheroes; far from it, really. But Mello only knew of superheroes as the pixelated figures in Matt's games and Matt only knew of Mello who did everything for the Kira case.
And those were heroes, in their mind.
So when his heart began to beat in a way that makes him feel like he can cry just this once, he thinks of the bullets digging into porcelain flesh and hair as red as blood and he smiles.
Because this is the end.
But superheroes never die.