Yup... Memory, part two. Written on the twenty-sixth (go figure) for its irony (because I'm sadistic like that). Thanks to shinjorain for inspiring me to finally write this idea! I don't remember what her ff.n name is... Oh, it's Biru.

Character(s): Matt, Mello

Setting: Uhh... page.84?

Spoilers: mild for 84. If you are familiar with later chapters, you may find some irony in here because I'm a horrible, sadistic person.

Disclaimer: same as what I said last time.
Of course it wasn't that easy.

"I told you to think about it!" Mello snapped instantly.

"What's there to think about?" I shot back. "Any of us would jump at the chance to catch Kira, Mello. You've got to know that."

"What's there to think about?" he repeated sarcastically. "The danger of death, the threat to those you care about—hell, Matt, do you think this is fun? This isn't one of your video games—there are no cheat codes, there's no guaranteed way to win, and there's no way to come back to life if you die!"

"I hate cheat codes."

He gave an irritated sigh and fell silent. I rolled my eyes.

"Mello, sitting here in silence is not going to change my mind."

He still didn't say anything.

"Tell me where I can meet you or what I can do or something."

Finally, he said, "You're not in yet, okay? I just want to talk to you in person." He gave me the name of a small café in Manhattan and told me to be there as soon as possible. Then he hung up.

On the subway ride there, rather than playing video games, I sat back and thought about Mello's request. He needed me. That much I was sure of; he wouldn't have called if he didn't. His reluctance to let me help, then, was more for his own conscience's sake—if he warned me against the dangers before starting, then anything that potentially happened to me was my own fault. A sort of disclaimer on his soul.

"Ha ha ha."

My laugh drew uncomfortable stares from a few subway patrons, but I didn't care. His self-serving "concern" for me was ironic, and I found it amusing. Didn't need his concern anyway.

When I got to the café, I scanned the crowd—there he was. Blond hair, several chocolate bars spread out on the table. He was even reading a newspaper, the very picture of casualness. I sat down at his table. "Yo."

He lowered the paper and stared boldly into my face—and my stomach dropped a few centimeters. Partially hidden by his hair and a pair of wide sunglasses, a rough scar stretched across the left side of his face.

Shit. So that's why he'd wanted to see me in person.

Unthinkingly, I reached out to brush the disfigurement with my fingers. He flinched slightly, and I pulled my hand back. "Sorry," I muttered.

"No, go on, Thomas," he replied, and combed back some of his hair to reveal more of the wound.

I dropped my hand anyway. "I never doubted what you were saying," I protested sullenly, miffed being caught by his ploy. "Obviously it's going to be dangerous. Only a fool would doubt that. It just doesn't matter to me. I can take risks, Mello. Putting an end to Kira's life is more important than protecting my own—don't you feel the same way?"

"Not so loud," he rebuked, dodging the question. He picked up one of the chocolate bars and began to eat it contemplatively. Rather than just sit and wait for him to make up his mind, I pulled out a cigarette and lit up.

Mello looked at me dubiously. "…You smoke now?"

"Yeah."

His face contracted with distaste. "Cigarettes are bad for you. And they smell disgusting."

"I like them."

He rolled his eyes. "You'll die an early death smoking those things," he warned. After a moment more, his face twisted upwards in a smirk. "…So I'm not going to be able to scare you away?"

I met his eyes determinedly.

"Good."

I almost laughed again. A disclaimer for his soul indeed.

"All right. Pay close attention. I can't say all of this stuff outright and I don't have time to say any of it twice."

-Is killed for the irony-