"-I walk this empty street on the boulevard of broken dreams, when the city sleeps and I'm the only one and I walk alone. My shadow's the only one that walks beside me. My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating. Sometimes, I wish someone out there will find me. Until then, I walk alone."

-Green Day: Boulevard Of Broken Dreams

I never liked the outdoors much. That hasn't changed since I was young. I'd much prefer lurking in the corner of some dark room with the curtains drawn, depriving myself of sunlight rather than go talk a walk during a bright, sunny day. It didn't matter much because I had everything I needed inside of the house, anyway. There was never a need to venture into the outdoors. So, I was completely clueless to as why I was currently outside pacing the pavement when I could have been inside of my sheltered bedroom, entertaining myself with my newest collection of toys. Outside was somewhat boring.

Just for your information and for the sake of keeping you updated, nothing really changed since I arrived at Wammy's. Watari was right. Apparently, I did possess great potential and by the time I was eight, I was ready to take the first examination that was required to determine my rank in the orphanage. Like mostly all examinations that I had sat for, I scored a perfect score in that particular test- something others before me had failed to achieve for a very, very long time. I was automatically placed at the very top of the ranking chart. The teachers, caretakers and even my fellow 'geniuses' were amazed. They were astounded, impressed, and dare I say, even outraged at my budding and rapidly growing intelligence.

One of those who were outraged was a particular boy whose alias was Mello. Mello was three years above my age and was apparently the original number one at the orphanage until I made my debut. With my new appearance, he was pushed down below me to take the place of number two, instead. He knew that I was younger, sharper, more intelligent and much better than him and it killed him softly. It was an agonizing fact and soon, my mere existence became a living nightmare to him. He was obviously not very happy about it.

Out of frustration, and what I presume was jealousy, Mello went out of his way to channel his uncontrollable feelings into making my life as hell-like as possible. Mello had an accomplice. His alias was Matt- a rather plain, ordinary alias to pick, if you ask me. Matt wasn't really as plain and ordinary as his alias might have suggested, though.

He was a laid-back person, who always had goggles shielding his eyes and never really liked moving around much, except for when Mello asked him to. He was addicted to video-games and would often be seen playing with a game-console or hogging the television with his play-station set in the common room. Matt was undoubtedly a bright boy... ranking third in the charts, so I could never understand his decision to pick up the habit of smoking cigarettes every time he got the chance to do so without the teacher's knowledge. Like his video-games, smoking too had soon steadily grew into an unhealthy habit. He didn't care much for studying, despite his high ranking.

Matt did almost everything Mello told him to, including taking part in a long-term plan to 'bring me down', such as Mello would describe it. Together, they would do things like steal my studying notes and textbooks in hopes that they would get me to fail a test for once, or hurl insults at me and call me names such as 'Albino brat' (which I found to be rather uncalled for and quite rude at times), or take away my toys to hide them from me, knock over my domino and lego towers, and perhaps play a prank on me every once in awhile such as dyeing all my white blouses pink or behead my toy robots or stuffed animals, leaving me to discover their awful dis-figuration when I got back to my room. The list of their callow abuse would have been quite lengthy, had I actually made one. Their efforts were all in vain, as I remained unperturbed. And of course, I was still always the one who ended up with the highest scores of any examination at the end of the day in any case.

I never hated Mello, despite all he did to me. On the contrary, I held some feelings of admiration for him, in a way. He was very interesting. He, unlike myself, loved to speak out loud. He always spoke- and was mostly always speaking- his mind and would have fought bravely to the death for what he believed in, which I personally found to be a very admirable thing. I could have related, but I never spoke up unless challenged directly. Again, unlike myself, Mello was extremely emotional. He reacted heavily towards the smallest things and had a well-known reputation in getting into fights with some of the older kids, and was often feared terribly by some of the younger ones. As he was hated, he was also loved and definitely respected by most of his peers. I was always the slightest bit amazed as how someone could have pulled onto the heartstrings of so many people at one go, be it in a negative or positive manner.

There were some similarities between him and I, however. We were both very competitive and I enjoyed the competition and rivalry between us wholeheartedly as much as it drove him to work harder. It was refreshing to have someone on the same level as you were for a change. It was also a lesser known fact that Mello sometimes enjoyed being alone, such as I did. Once in a blue moon, I would hear the faint crunch of leaves rustling under footsteps and I would peer outside my bedroom window just in time to catch a certain chocolate-loving blond sitting solo under a tree, gazing up at the clear night sky, milk-chocolate bar hanging loosely in his mouth. I would watch him for a few minutes before shuffling back to my toys on the floor only to find him long gone in a few hours time when I checked once again.

Still, unlike me, Mello never lacked company. It was true that Mello might've been envious of my position and talent concerning our studies, but I was admittedly slightly envious of something of his. Unlike me, Mello always had people willing to be around him. And even if perhaps, one day, everyone suddenly lost interest in being around him, he would most certainly have Matt, who I was quite sure would never abandon his post as his 'best friend'.

As for me, I never had someone I could call a real 'friend', much less a 'best friend'. But that again, was just a trivial issue. I learned that through everyday drama that seemed to pop up around me like white daisies in a garden. Girls would cry because they would get into petty arguments that ruined their friendships, boys would fight over girls and earned bruises and detentions, and girls and boys would depart each other with broken hearts after failed romantic relationships. I can honestly say that I have never ever experienced any of those before, and I assure you, I don't find the thought of doing so particularly appealing. All that unnecessary chaos was simply a waste of time and was ridiculously stupid.

My mind had somehow equalized having bonds- family, friends or love- as something that I was better off without. All of those bonds only seemed to result in pain and trauma, and none of that was required for me to study better. I convinced myself that I was fully contented with being alone. I would be a boy in a glass case- someone who people can watch and look at from a comfortable distance, but not touch. Because I was uncomfortable with any form of physical contact in the first place anyway, to be frank.

I didn't get what the big fuss over love was about, either. What was so appealing about the opposite sex that made the other boys drool and chase after them? Once had I taken the time to study a couple of girls at the other end of the common room where I had been busy solving a 5000-piece puzzle in and found myself gaining a strange curiosity. They... looked different from males, that's for sure. They also sounded different too. Their voices were higher pitched and most of them would be squealing and giggling every few seconds in excitement, or laughing at what the other had to say. I frowned. Girls were such noisy creatures. What made the other boys attracted to such noise? Perhaps it was a siren's song that strangely had no effect on me.

I faintly remember that there was a girl who went by the alias of 'Linda', who ranked at position number fifty-three. I never took it upon myself to speak more than a sentence to her, but I should think I still remember how she looked like correctly. She was a girl of average height for her age, with a rather plain, simple face along with plain hair the colour of brown Autumn leaves, always up in two pigtails. There was nothing about Linda that really caught my eye except for her willingness to help everybody, anybody, be it a boy, girl or an animal. She never failed to welcome others with a friendly, closed-lip smile and I suppose she was a bit more mature than most girls her age, since she was always fixing her friends' problems. Another thing that stuck out from Linda was that she loved art and she was extremely talented at it, often gaining compliments and acknowledgment for her still-life portraits. She was similar to Matt, who didn't care much for studying, but studied anyway for the sake of it. I overheard a conversation between her and a friend of hers that she would rather leave the orphanage when she was old enough to pursue a career as an artist, instead.

Well, there was one time where a rather... interesting rumor was floating around the orphanage. For a short period of time before it eventually died down, I could hear the playful singing voices belonging to children living in the orphanage, going, "LINDA AND NEAR, KISSING IN A TREE! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!", and I would always freeze up with my toy airplane up in mid-air, and soon forcing it to make an emergency landing to look up curiously as to where the disturbance was coming from.

It was nothing short of absurd. I had no idea where such nonsense materialized from.I hardly ever went outside, much less climbed up trees, and I have most certainly never kissed a girl before. And why Linda? Just because she made it a point for herself to ask politely if I wanted to join in their fun and games every once in a while? I never accepted her invitations in the first place and I was sure she was just being friendly, as per usual.

That was a surprisingly short-lived theory of mine that was immediately killed off once I overheard her group of friends questioning if she had indeed fancied me or not. She stayed quiet in the middle of her circle of friends before answering with a timid 'yes', followed by familiar, exaggerated squeals of excitement that I had begun to grow used to every time the girls came close to me. They sounded amused and bombarded her with questions of 'how', 'why' and 'when', and she hesitated before mumbling that she fancied me for a month or two now because I was 'smarter and appeared more mature' than the other boys. I shuffled away from the door quickly, making sure I stayed hidden as I retreated back to the common room, deathly unamused by the confirmation of such a rumor.

It wasn't that I had anything against Linda. I couldn't really say the same for the idea of her fancying me, though. It didn't make much sense. Maybe, she would've been okay as a friend, but she didn't even make it that far before deciding that she liked me. How could you possibly like someone that you've only spoken to less than a dozen times before? And why would she fall in love with my intelligence? There were plenty of other guys who were intelligent as well, such as Mello and Matt and even others before them, who would probably have been flattered being liked by a girl such as herself, instead of myself who was quite... disturbed. Lastly, I didn't quite agree that I was any more maturer than the other guys, just because I don't go goo-goo-eyed every time I spot a pair of female legs underneath a flowery dress, or mini-skirt. Unless having a lack of raging pre-teen hormones counted as being 'mature', then I suppose she was right. Other than that, I find myself to be rather childish at times admittedly, but I guess she wouldn't have known that seeing as she didn't even know me.

Perhaps that was it. Hormones. It appeared that not only boys, but girls could get hormonal too. That was probably what inspired Linda, then.

Love is just hormones.

Sometimes, I wondered what it would be like if I had been injected with hormones as well. Would I have been equally attracted to Linda, then? Would I suddenly have the urge to pay more attention to females? Would I have wanted to get into a relationship of some sorts? What does one do in a relationship, anyway? I heard that when a girl and boy becomes girlfriend and boyfriend, they do things such as hugging... cuddling... and kissing.

For a brief moment, I tried to imagine myself hugging, cuddling and kissing with Linda and I instantly stopped before I had the urge to gag, intensely disturbed by the image formed in my head. I blanched and my face screwed up as if I had just bitten into a lemon and I was sure that if anybody would've caught me making that face, they would've walked into a wall in shock. It just seemed so... wrong. Me doing those type of things. Touching someone else like that... letting someone touch me like that...

I shivered inwardly and vowed never to conjure up such an image again.

The next day, I happened to meet gazes with Linda and she froze. I almost thought that she had realized that I was listening in on her confession yesterday until she relaxed and smiled at me normally and gave me a little wave. I looked away back down at my toys after noticing a very small blush on her cheeks. I might've blushed as well - from embarrassment from the memory of what my imagination threw up before-, if I had not already been used to concealing my emotions.

The years rolled by and nothing much changed... until Kira decided to make his first appearance in Japan. At first, everyone was sure that L would have handled this case no problem, but we were wrong. Kira was much more sly and cunning than we first anticipated, even outwitting L a couple of times. Wammy's house was getting panicky. Nothing like this had ever happened before- someone, a criminal, giving L a run for his money? It was a worrying thought and soon, Watari and Roger (the manager of the orphanage when Watari is not present) took matters into their own hands by summoning the best to aid L in the case. That included me, Mello and Matt.

Obviously, Mello was not at all jolly at the thought of working alongside with me, so he took Matt with him and fled to the town L was stationed in before Roger could protest. I was left to eventually travel to the same town in the end by myself. I was given a fully-staffed, fully-furnished house and personal direct connections to L and we worked together virtually though laptops, which brings us here today.

And like I said earlier on, I didn't know why I suddenly decided to talk a walk outside on my break despite my factual dislike for being under the sun. Well, technically, there wasn't much of a sun, really. One thing about this town was that it was almost always cloudy every other day, so I suppose being outdoors wasn't as agonizing as it should have been.

Still...

Faceless people. Senseless chatter. Unneeded noise. It was all very unnerving to me. Not to mention people kept autonomously turning their heads to stop and and stare at the 'strange white boy wearing pajamas' shuffling aimlessly down the street, going wherever his feet took him. Being the center of attention at the wrong time bothered me. Sad to say, it was rather hard being just another face in the crowd when I look like this, not that I could help it.

I soon found myself standing in front of a homely-looking coffee shop, scanning it up and down with my eyes before proceeding to enter it through the glass-door. A bell tinkled as I walked in and looked around. It was small, isolated and justperfect for me to finally get away from those pesky stares that were starting to gnaw away on my nerves.

The insides of the tiny shop seemed to be one of a totally different world compared to the outside. Warm, beckoning and comfortable; the total opposite of the disturbingly frigid and awkward atmosphere I had faced back out there, and I was inwardly grateful for that.

My sneakers, relatively brand new and unused, made a slight squeaking sound against the wooden floorboards below me as I made my way to a seat, taking note that the place seemed ordinary to the extent where even customers were scarce. I sat down and thought about how people loved to stare at me so much.

People often stared. Or at least looked.

Of course they did. It was only a natural reaction to stare when you see something weird or out of the ordinary. And it wasn't like I was anywhere close to 'ordinary', anyway. I knew that I had pure white hair, along with skin so pale that it was almost like I never stepped took a single step into the sunlight in my life (this being almost true, since I made a point to stay indoors as much as possible when the weather was sweltering), not to mention my choice of attire. I liked wearing my white loose, over-sized blouse and baggy pants because they were comfortable, but apparently other people thought it was unusual for me to be wearing 'pajama-like clothing' outdoors.

I always considered staring to be a little rude. However, it was such a common occurrence that I had already learned to adapt to being stared at. It wasn't so bad after I had learned the useful skill of ignoring, which I had been practicing for so many years to the point that I could very easily pretend that the person I wanted to ignore was just mere specks of dust floating in the air, soon to be blown away by a breeze in the wind once I waited long enough. I didn't have time for idle chit-chat. I had more important business to attend to- such as completing my replica of the Eiffel-tower with the brand new sets of cards I had just bought.

So, as you can see, as much as it bothered me, staring wasn't much of a problem as long as I knew how to ignore the person initiating the act. People could stare all they liked. But as soon as I noticed in the corner of my eye a certain figure standing outside the wide-screen window of the coffee-shop...

I thought that maybe this was just slightly over-doing it.