Part 09 - Complication

Submitted 06.17.11


Once Light and L finally figured out that it was Mello leading the pack of ruffians wild through the city—which, in retrospect, really shouldn't have taken the two genii the full 20 minutes that it did to figure out—L came up with a brilliant plan.

"Mello," he called out, and the Blonde Wonder paused in his machinations and whirled around.

"Yes, Ryuuzaki?" he asked sweetly.

"Do you think you could come here and talk to me for a minute?" L asked.

Mello's face broke out into a wide grin, and L felt the heavy weight of childish admiration and hero-worship settle onto his shoulders like a wet blanket. He sighed like a man condemned as Mello began to skip back to him, to which Light elbowed him a little in the ribs.

When L looked at Light, a retort already weaseling its way onto his tongue, Light smiled, almost sadly. "I know it isn't your strong suit, but be nice to him, okay?" he said, which surprised L enough that he shut his mouth with a snap and just stared at Light, who shrugged.

"The kid worships you," Light added. "He won't always; make him happy while its still in your power to do so."

"Why do I feel you have personal experience with something like this?" L muttered.

Light, mercifully, was spared from replying by the arrival of Mello—which was remarkably similar to the arrival of a hurricane.

Hurricane Mello, L thought, and then shuddered. Just the name had horrible implications that even his advanced mind would rather not think of just now.

"What's up?" Mello asked. His followers had blindly allowed him to lead them back to L; thus, L and Light finally had their group of 9 students comfortably within eyesight. Near hung back, and L wondered if it was because it was because he was terrified of Mello or because he was less than enthusiastic about the trip. L suspected both.

"Light and I were just discussing what we should do on this little foray into the real world," L told him. "Light here suggested shopping-"

"I did not-" Light interjected amongst the jeers of the other students.

"-but I thought we could do some sight-seeing," L suggested.

Mello's eyes got very big. L's chest suddenly constricted in something remarkably similar to fear.

"The Tower of London," Mello decided, "is where we'll be headed." And he turned and began walking, leaving the rest of them to follow or, presumably, to perish.

As they walked, however, Light detected some murmurings of hunger or other complaints so, not without trepidation, he called to the group to stop. "Hang on, kids," he said.

"We are not children," Mello snapped, back by murmurs of support from kids too frightened or too in awe to disagree. "And why do we have to hold on—did you see a shop you needed to head into?"

"No, I got the impression that our little group might prefer to get lunch instead of touring the foremost museum on torture devices, actually," Light said. "So which will it be?"

"Torture devices!" Mello exclaimed, at the same time the chorus of schoolchildren sang out, "Lunch!"

Light sighed and rolled his eyes, turning to L with a half-amused, half-exasperated expression on his face. L privately decided that this was very cute, and then immediately began mentally banging his head on a wall. Instead of making this contingency a reality, L turned to look at the kids as if to ask, So what the hell are we supposed to do now?

Light shrugged and said, "I'm sure they'll work it out eventually—they're smart kids."

L translated that to mean, Mello will cow them all into submission eventually—they're smart kids, and then paused to view the debate (read: shouting match) for a moment. His lips quirked up into a small smile and he said, "You know, Mello is just going to intimidate everyone into going to the Tower, right?"

"Yep," Light agreed, before strolling to a nearby bench and making himself comfortable.

Rolling his eyes at Light's apparent distaste for actual leadership, L turned back to the group and watched as Mello did an excellent impression on an irate ape and as the rest of the kids, with the exception of Matt (playing a video game) and Near (irritatingly unflappable as usual) did excellent impressions of being cowed animals in response.

Sure enough, by the time Light deigned to return to the group, Mello was about to win the argument when suddenly, "Actually, I think we just passed a chocolatier," Matt muttered to himself.

"Shush!" Light warned, but it was too late. Mello and L's eyes both got as wide as saucers and they both turned around in near-perfect harmony, then they ran back half a block and disappeared into a shop on the street. "And we're going to be waiting here a while," Light sighed. He glanced at Matt. "What was that for?" he demanded, a bit crossly.

Matt just laughed, looking up only briefly from a video game. "Mello's much more pliable once he's gorged himself on cocoa," he told Light. "Ryuuzaki too. Don't worry, Light. I just did you a favor."

After a good 20 minutes (and how in God's name does someone spend 20 minutes picking out chocolate? Light wonders), Mello and L returned—and yep, just as Matt predicted, they both had matching docile smiles and eyes drooping in utter satisfaction.

"We're good now?" Light asked, and Mello smiled at him.

"Sure, whatever's good," Mello said, casually licking his fingers. L nodded his apparent agreement, and Light's expression settled comfortably somewhere in between 'smug' and 'amused'.

"Let's head to lunch then, since these two seem to have beat us to it," he told the rest of the kids, and there was a general chorus of cheering. "Thanks, Matt," Light said quietly to the boy in question, who just grinned.

"No prob," Matt said. "It's what I'm here for, sir."

Light cringed. "I thought I'd told you not to call me that," he said. "It sounds . . . creepy, I think."

Matt laughed. "Okay, Light," he agreed, then ran to catch up with the rest of the group, yelling after Mello.

Light smiled, and L caught the melancholy tilt to the expression. "You've never had that, have you?" L asked, and Light looked at him sharply, pleasant expression gone.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, and L caught the subtext of Who are you to talk, you socially deprived primitive primate?

L had to give him points for silent alliteration.

"Them," L said, nodding in the direction of the fast disappearing students. He and Light doubled their pace to catch up and herd the kids to an acceptable little restaurant. "Friends like that."

Light looked at him strangely. "Are you telling me you have?" he asked, and L shrugged.

"No, of course not," L admitted. He had decided that bugging Light could at least wait until the drive home; they had called a truce, after all, and it would be in his best interest to keep it for now.

"They're more than just friends," Light scoffed, and when L looked puzzled, Light sighed. "Matt worships him, L," he said. "Mello is everything to him; I don't know why, or what Mello did to make it that way, but Matt loves him."

L blinked. He was surprised by Light's statement, yes, but something else much more important was going on inside his mind; the pieces to the puzzle he'd been working on for the past few weeks finally slid into place with a nearly audible click. So that was why Matt was being so evasive—because Mello—and he—and oh, God, how could he be so stupid? Of course Matt was doing this for Mello. Any idiot would have seen it—L chalked it up to the fact that he'd been so busy with damage control and trying to figure out what the hell Light was up to to give the Matt-puzzle his very best effort. At least, that's what assuaged his broken ego well enough for him to let it go.

"Be that as it may," L said, once he was done filing the information away, "you never did answer my question."

"What question?" Light asked with a sigh, and L was at once offended that Light thought his questions were boring, and cheered that he was annoying him.

"Friends—you've never really had them, have you?"

Light opened his mouth, and for a minute, L thought he was actually going to get honesty out of the tight-lipped, secretive absconder. Then he shut it with a snap and shrugged back. "My private life is none of your business, particularly after your behavior over the past few weeks. Which reminds me," he added, before L could say something snarky back, "you still owe me a new shirt."

"Ah, yes, the Pink Monstrosity," L said speculatively.

Light flushed just the tiniest bit, and L found himself simultaneously fascinated with and enamored of the coloring that dusted his cheeks. He resolved to make Light blush with more frequency in the future.

"It wasn't that pink," Light said scathingly. "It was . . . it was just a carnation color. Or a rose quartz color . . ." He trailed off, seeing that L was suppressing laughter. "Shut up," he muttered, pulling out his wallet to pay for the children's lunches.

"No, no," L assured him. "Carnation pink and rose quartz are indeedthe manliest of all the pinks. I see now where you were coming from."

Light opened and closed his mouth again, and L amused himself by thinking of the old adage about catching flies in the context of Light's wide open trap for a moment. "Touche," Light finally muttered, then added, "You realize of course that I'm going to have to ruin you for this damage you've dealt to my pride?"

"I'll be on the look out," L promised him, and he could have sworn he saw the corners of Light's lips twitch up, just the tiniest bit, before he turned back to the kids and began shouting out directives.

After lunch, they did indeed have time still to visit the Tower of London, an excursion that included much gaping and explanations, as well as an attempted theft (Mello), harassment of the guards there (still Mello), making their tour guide cry (also, unsurprisingly, Mello) and the near-collapse of Western society (Matt and Near, actuallly).

The problem, of course, lay in the fact that L and Light were only two people, and the children they were watching were Wammy-trained and altogether too intelligent for their own good, Light mused as he dragged Mello away from one of the Catherine wheels. In retrospect, he decided that it was an altogether inane idea to allow the kids to have free reign over a museum that detailed gruesome medieval torture devices, and that he ought to take full responsibility for the grievous oversight. Or maybe he could just push it off onto L. That could work too.

Once L and Light had decided that their little brood had done enough damage at the museum, they ushered them towards the London Eye. They figured the kids probably couldn't do much damage to the gargantuan structure, and it would be easier to keep an eye on them inside one of the pods.

Halfway through their ride, L quietly sidled up next to Matt as the rest of the group 'ooh'ed and 'ahh'ed at the city from above.

"Matt, I still need to talk to you," L murmured, and Matt jumped, a bit guiltily, and looked up.

"Aw, c'mon, L," Matt whined, and L frowned.

"I hardly see what is so dramatic and horrible about having a conversation with me," he pointed out, and Matt's expression twisted into something like a grimace.

"It's what you want to talk about," Matt told him. "I don't want to be your successor, L, can't we just leave it at that?"

L glanced around, somewhat paranoid that Matt was calling him by his true name, but he relaxed when he realized that their students were the only ones inside this particular capsule. People probably had some absurd notion that Mello was going to send the entire wheel crashing to the ground. Or something else terrifyingly plausible.

Now that L thought about it, it was indeed eerily possible, and his head jerked around just to make sure Mello was still engaged in arguing with Light and Near about whether or not "Frodo really was just a big pansy" and if "Legolas was a creepy queer." The boy could make an argument out of anything. An admirable trait, if a slightly dangerous one.

"The others are engaged, Matt," L said, turning back to the object of his current mystery. One of them, anyway. "No one's going to hear what you tell me, and there are no cameras to record what we say, unlike at Wammy's."

Matt folded his arms across his chest and looked determinedly out at the city. "I don't have anything to tell you," he said quietly. "I just don't want the world on my shoulders—why is that such a big deal?"

"Because you could be so good at it, Matt," L said sincerely. "You're brilliant, a great actor, determined, devious-"

"-Thanks," Matt interjected.

"Yeah," L said off-handedly. "The point is, you have all the qualities to be L."

"Yeah, except for the most crucial one," Matt pointed out. "Desire. I don't want it, L, and nothing you say can change my mind."

There was a pause, and then L lowered his voice considerably as he murmured, "This is about Mello, isn't it?"

Matt started and looked up at L, before lowering his gaze back outside the window. "Of course not. Why would you say that?" he asked.

"Because Mello is your best friend, but he is also dying to be the next L," L observed.

Matt's head jerked around to stare at him. "He's dying to have your approval, L. Nothing else," he snapped. "God knows why, but he absolutely worships you."

"I think it has something to do with me being the world's three greatest detectives."

Matt snorted. "Please," he said. "You're great at solving crimes, L, but when it comes to mysteries in your own backyard, you seem a little . . . slow, actually."

"It has nothing to do with the fact that it is, as you say, 'in my own backyard,'" L protested. "It has everything to do with the fact that this mystery is not a crime, but rather a knot that has human emotion right in the center of it."

Matt smiled, a little bitterly. "Yeah, and we all know that human emotion isn't exactly your strongest suit."

For a moment, L was actually offended. "You really don't think much of me, do you?" he finally asked, voice low, to which Matt glanced up, looking startled.

"It's not that, L," he insisted quietly, looking around to make sure the other students were still occupied. "I'm just . . . I'm just defensive, you know? You're playing with my secrets like they're nothing, but they mean the world to me. Do you know what would happen if Mello ever found out?"

"A messy disembowelment, followed by a bonfire, followed by dancing on your ashes?" L hazarded a guess.

Matt actually laughed a little at that. "Yeah, if I'm lucky," he muttered. "And that wouldn't even be the worst part."

L raised an eyebrow. "How can all that not be the worst part?" he asked.

Matt sighed and returned his gaze to the window. "If Mello ever found out I'm lying about all this stuff, he'd be pissed off, yeah, but more importantly, he'd be hurt. Crushed."

"So you're not ever planning on telling him the truth," L summarized. "Even though he's your friend."
"No, I'm not," Matt countered, "because he's my friend. And don't pretend you know better about friendships than me, L, because the only sort of friendship you've formed is a highly dysfunctional, competitive one with Light, and God only knows how that's gonna turn out."

Now it was L's turn to be surprised. "You think Light and I are friends?" he asked.

Matt frowned. "I guess I just assumed," he said. "That's the vibe I get from you guys. It's unusual, yeah, but you seem like you're either friends or enemies; the point is, neither one of you feels neutral."

"So?" L asked.

"So, how often does that happen, L?" Matt asked. "How often do you feel?"

L chose not to answer that, preferring instead to turn the idea over in his head. He and Light, friends? Surely not, since it was obvious that Light still hated his guts. But—and here L knew he was sailing into a storm, and he didn't even know how to sail—L thought that perhaps he would like to be friends. Or, at the very least, he'd like to pin Light to the bed and . . .

Perhaps it was best he discontinue that thought while he was around children. So instead, he turned to anther absorbing topic: namely, being right. "So I'm right, then," he contemplated. "About your test scores, your intelligence, Mello—everything."

For a moment, Matt looked very angry, surprising L, until he finally just shrugged. "Yeah, okay?" he said. "You're right, L. I can't do this. Mello is my best friend, and he wants it more than I ever have or ever will. So he can have it. I've never really wanted it; I'm too chill. You should give it to Mello, or even to Near, but never to me."

"And you don't mind lying about your intellect to make him feel better?" L asked dryly.

"I'm not lying, per se," Matt said with a shrug. "I'm just not living up to my potential. And I don't see anything wrong with that."

As they touched the ground and the door slid open, L sighed. "What's wrong, Matt, is that I'd very much like to make you my next successor." Too late, L realized that the pod had gotten very, very quiet just moments before he uttered this sentence.

And before Matt could say anything, a voice cut across their conversation like a blade. "What the hell?" it demanded.

Dreading the scene behind him, L slowly turned to see Mello.

Mello, who was white-faced and horrified, whose hands trembled and voice shook to match.

Matt whirled around at the same time L did, and his color, too, drained from his face and he started forward. "Mels," he started, but Mello cut him off with a swift punch to the gut.

"Don't talk to me!" Mello shouted, voice harsh and grating and trembling. "How dare you, holding back all these years, making a complete fool out of me-"

"Mello!" This was Light, who stalked over to their side of the compartment, shocked and clueless. "What is going on?" he demanded.

There was a silence while Matt coughed and tried to straighten from the crouched position he'd taken when struck and Mello and L just stared back at him. Finally, L spoke. "I think there's been a misunderstanding," he said, reaching out for Mello, who shoved his hand away.

"Misunderstanding my ass!" Mello snapped, and Light cringed.

"Language, Mello," he chided.

"You shut up too!"

Light's eyes widened as he began to understand the seriousness of the situation.

Everything was silent while Mello approached Matt again, who straightened as best he could and looked his friend straight in the eye.

"You lied?" Mello asked him, and though his voice was angry, there was still a touch of pleading to it that made L wince. "You've been lying this whole time? About tests and assignments, and not getting English and-and everything?"

Slowly, seeing he wasn't getting out of this one, Matt nodded. "I just . . . I didn't want anyone to see me, Mel," he said, and indeed his face flushed a deep red as he looked around and found everyone's eyes on him and the drama he'd created.

"Don't call me that," Mello snapped, but his voice lacked the fire L would have guessed it would've had in this situation. "You're a liar, and—and, oh my God, L said—"

It seemed like he could not finish, and instead looked at L with mute and horrified inquisition.

Slowly, L nodded. He knew that it was Mello's worst nightmare, but the boy had heard, and there was no sense in making a liar out of himself. That seemed to be all the confirmation Mello needed, because slowly turned his head back to Matt and hissed, "I don't want to have anything to do with you after this, got it? Get your stuff out of my room, move up to the advanced classes, start your training, whatever. So you get to be L's successor, I don't care." But it was obvious to L that Mello did care, very much.

"Mello, come on," Matt urged. "You heard me, I don't want-"

"That's not the point!" Mello snapped. Then his voice dropped low again. "Just . . . just leave me alone, Matt."

He turned to go, but Matt caught his arm and whispered, "Mihael, please," barely loud enough that L heard. To this, Mello's eyes grew very wide and he jerked his arm away from Matt like he'd been bitten.

"Do not call me that," Mello hissed. "We are not friends, Matt, and don't think we can be." And he turned, and walked away.


The drive home was very, very quiet. Not even the tinny beeps and jingles of Matt's handheld, usually a persistent, even comforting background noise, was absent.

Light drove again, and although L would have liked to have continued fiddling with the radio and air conditioning and just generally driving Light up the wall and onto the ceiling, the atmosphere of melancholy was much to present even for him to ignore.

Matt sat in the very back of the large van, with Mello just behind the driver's seat. And although some of the children tried to engage in whispered conversations, for the most part, the drive back was a very somber affair.

Mello bolted from the van right when they arrived inside Wammy's gates and although L didn't follow to see what happened, he later heard that Mello locked Matt out of their shared room that night and that he refused to come down for breakfast or classes the next day.

L privately thought that it was a lot of drama over just a little conversation he and Matt had had—L hadn't even officially declared his successor, after all—but he supposed it was just Mello's nature and flair for the dramatic shining through. Yet another reason why Mello wouldn't be a great choice for his heir, despite his obvious intelligence. He was too impetuous, too ruled by the razor sharp emotions that tore through him without warning.

Finally, on the second day of Mello's self-imposed isolation, L heard a knock on his bedroom door; when he opened it, he found a very embarrassed-looking Raito Yagami.

Well, an embarrassed Light was a welcome one, so L stepped aside to allow him entry.

Light walked inside carefully, as though he was afraid something of L's would bite, or possibly sting or spontaneously combust, and after pacing into the room a bit, he turned to face L.

"Look, I'll just get right to the point," he began.

L nodded, only momentarily distracted as Light bit his lower lip. "Please do," he said in what he hoped was a pleasant tone. By Light's expression, however, he assumed that he failed miserably.

"You have to talk to him, L," Light said.

"Mello?" L guessed.

"Yes, of course; who else?"

"Well, I suppose I could talk to Matt as well," L suggested, but Light merely shrugged at his suggestion.

"You can try," Light said. "It seems like he's in shock, though. He's going to meals and his classes, but he's not saying or eating much. I've tried talking to him, but it seems like he's just avoiding the whole thing, hoping it was just some horrible dream."

"Hmm," L murmured. "I suppose I can try talking to Mello," he conceded. "I don't know if it will do much good, however . . ."

"He wants to hear from you, I'm sure," Light insisted, looking relieved L hadn't rejected him immediately.

"No offense, Light, but why do you care?" L asked curiously. "You're only their teacher, and none of the other staff have come to me, asking me to make amends with Matt or Mello. I frankly think they're all just relieved that Mello isn't being a terror, as usual."

"I can't blame them for that," Light muttered.

"Yes, but why aren't you doing the same?" L asked.

Light looked at him and sighed. "Look, I'm not really sure," he admitted. "I just . . . I actually care about these kids. I see myself in a lot of them."

"Were you also an isolated, socially-challenged orphan when you were younger?" L drawled, a bit shocked by Light's comparison.

"I didn't mean that, you ass," Light bit out. "I just meant . . . they're lonely, I guess. A lot of them are, anyway."

L, who had opened his mouth to make a sarcastic remark, suddenly found himself snapping it shut. Light was taking a real risk here, he realized. Telling him something that personal was a risk, and L knew it was one Light would never take without good reason. As far as he could decipher Light either a) suddenly and inexplicably wanted to be his friend and thought they could bond by sharing secrets (unlikely) or b) really, really wanted him to talk to Mello (better).

So, it was with grim determination and a heavy sense of duty that L approached Mello's door and knocked.


A/N: Oh man, seems like some of the drama from Silence has carried over here. Sorry for the less-than-light-hearted chapter, you guys, but I mean, come on, who didn't see this coming? I promise that next chapter will have more amusement for you.

Also, I apologize to anyone who was offended by my usage of the word 'queer.' It is not something I'd use myself, but frankly, Mello isn't exactly the most sensitive guy in the world. So if you're mad, please blame him and not me. :)

Oh, and next chapter, we get to see some of the drama from Mello and Matt's POV, so that should be . . . well, maybe fun isn't the right word, but interesting at least! Right? Right, you guys? Oh, and sorry for the itty-bitty cliffhanger. I plan on updating soon, so you shouldn't have to wait too long. Next chapter, we'll have a couple of heart-to-hearts, interesting POVs, and what's this? L and Light being civil? Even . . . bonding? We'll see!

Anyways, if you enjoyed (or if you didn't, whatever, I don't care), lemme know! I know that asking for reviews is tacky and shameless, but I'm kinda a tacky, shameless kind of person (why writing Mello is so easy for me), so please please review away!