Theme: 18:00 - Matters of safety, protection and completion
Title: Falling Short of Victory
Rating: PG
Warnings: General spoilers apply. Slight language.
Disclaimer: Death Note © Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi
Summary: Wrong, most definitely, and even while Mello kind of wanted these idiot men around him cleaned out by Kira, he still knew it was just that. Wrong.

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Mello knew these bastards were going to die, and he was glad of it.

The way they slunk about, reeking of murder and overconfidence, chockfull of inflated egos and flaunty prides. The way they soiled the couch with less than arbitrary practices; it all sickened him, and on some level, he hoped Kira would get rid of them. Actually, he was certain Kira would. It was just a matter of time now.

Casting a lazy glance in the direction of the slouching Shinigami, off by the other side of the room and looking mostly bored, Mello broke off a row of chocolate squares with his teeth. The thing really was a sight to see, but he was glad he hadn't been the one to take up ownership of the 'cursed' notebook, instead passing it off to one of the other men. They could die if they wanted just for the chance to use that thing for all he cared.

He already knew so much more than Near did by now, and all be damned if he was ever going to share any bit of information with him.

Still… It was an ever-present reminder in his mind that Near did have that one single photo of him. He'd have to be getting that back, and as quickly as possible. But it wouldn't go without a compromise, Mello knew well. Which could only mean that he was probably going to get stuck selling out some tidbit of info about the notebook and the Shinigami, just so he could get that fucking picture back.

Sometimes he really hated Near.

More than he hated Kira. More than he hated L for going and dying like that. He was bitter over a lot of things, but the fact that Near was so much better than he could ever be really ate away at him.

All he needed to do was catch Kira, kill Kira, whatever it took in order to get back at stupid Near. That way, he'd be on the top once again, laughing down at everyone else who'd ever taunted him (bypassing the fact that no one ever really had, himself aside). Though, catching Kira was going to be pretty hard, even he wasn't ignorant enough to realize that. Hell, the greatest detective in the world hadn't even managed it. Could he?

He had to, just had to.

A loud laugh reached him a moment later, low and scratchy, and Mello grimaced, glancing over at the source of the sound. One of the mafia men was sprawled out on the couch, feet kicked up on the table and arms slung over the back of his seat, snarking over something that the guy across from him had just said. The noise went straight through Mello's head like a bullet, causing it to ache almost immediately. Mello scowled.

Yes, Kira, right now would be a perfect time to rein supremacy.

Head lolled back, Mello's eyes fell into narrowed slits as he stared up at the ceiling, melted, chewed-through chocolate sliding down his throat in the process. It tasted good.

Sometimes, Mello wondered what this Yagami Light looked like. Was he like L, all bent out of shape at the seams and folded in on himself, like a pretzel? Or was he smooth, confident, an icon of perfection? Mello's imagination wasn't that great when it came to this, but he had yet to see 'Him', and he was already bored out of his damn mind, so why not?

Kira would have to be ideal, self-assured, all of that stuff in order to do what he did. That or he was so mentally unstable (which Mello again wouldn't doubt very much either) he didn't know that what he was doing was wrong.

Wrong, most definitely, and even while Mello kind of wanted these idiot men around him cleaned out by Kira, he still knew it was just that. Wrong. He was a killer. He was a killer that needed to be stopped, no matter the cost, like L would believe. Mello would always follow what L believed.

But he still had yet to actually see this Yagami Light in person. He couldn't risk something like that, if what he knew of Kira so far rang true (which he didn't doubt, of course).

Even still, he thought about what it would be like to pass Kira in the streets unseen, just a brush-by and go. Would he even stick out? Probably not; Kira needed anonymity, at least. Would either of them notice? Undoubtedly Kira would be capable of recognizing him. Somehow.

And that was why Mello had himself holed up in this place, to protect himself from the death that L had befallen. He hated it; couldn't even go buy his own damn chocolate, but what could he do? It was that or drop dead.

Yeah, it was much safer this way.

Less than twenty-four hours later, Kira's rein supremacy finally came down upon the base, hitting like wild fire, and Mello watched through narrowed eyes as several of his men collapsed at his very feet.

Time to bail ship.

It was around six o'clock when Matt drove up around the back of the inferno of a building, only to stop right alongside where Mello laid facedown, groaning and spitting out curses in some other language as though his life depended on it, his fingers slack around a cell phone with a cracked screen.

And maybe his life really did depend on it.