Disclaimer: Death Note belongs to someone other than TK101. So do the newest OCs, as well—iceblueangelfang created Jermanee and Xavier and I am only using them… with permission!
Coauthored by BlueHarpy; helped by Madeline Cullen and iceblueangelfang.
CHAPTER 21 – OBLIVION, HISPANICS, AND COSPLAY, OH MY
In which Matt makes two new acquaintances and fails to purchase a video game
(REGARDING THE TITLE OF THIS CHAPTER, PLEASE SEE THE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE END!!)
Matt chuckled as he strolled down the sidewalk en route to a small game store in the less-frequented areas of London; an image of Mello in that scarlet dress came to mind, spurring his amusement even after the night. Mello had not spoken to him since the incident (not that he'd expected anything different from the rather touchy and temperamental man), giving Matt an opportunity to finish his conversation with L.
.:FLASHBACK:.
"Sorry about the abrupt interruption, boss," Matt typed after reestablishing the connection with his mate's superior. "You understand."
"Where is Mello?" was the response.
Matt hesitated for a moment. "Well… he's kind of… recovering right now. He spent tonight cross-dressing as a cover for what may as well be the mafia leader's daughter."
There followed a pause before a reply came. "That does not inspire much confidence."
"We're getting closer, though," he insisted. "Kira's definitely in the Syndicate, but we don't know who he is. Probably haven't even run into him at all."
"I would expect not. I have just ascertained Kira's identity, and you will likely not see him at all—unless, of course, he wants to be seen."
"Who is Kira?"
"My first successor, thought to have committed suicide long ago. He is most likely mad, so take all precaution when investigating the matter. He will not use his real name, and it is not necessary knowledge, for to use it would be to reveal your connection to me. He is A, and that is all you need know."
.:END FLASHBACK:.
So they were dealing with someone incredibly intelligent, yet insane. This was going to be a very delicate task, to say the least, one that Matt didn't particularly want to dwell on.
And as the warm morning sunshine penetrated the cool air, he found that he didn't want to think on anything at all, really. It was one of the rare mornings that actually called him voluntarily out of doors… but there was something different about being outside while in the city, as opposed to the country. The country was full of pollen, insects, arachnids, dirt, dust, sand, grit, plants, muggy air, horrid scents and sounds… everything was penetratingly toxic in a way that made Matt's skin crawl. In the city, it was much more bearable, with the sounds of manmade machines, the odors of manmade devices, the sounds, sights, and sensations of manmade everything. There was a kind of sterility, a distance from organic things that enabled him to abide the outdoors.
Just a few doors ahead…
Matt, whistling blithely, entered the shop. A bell clanked against the door as it banged shut—the hydraulics were messed up. No one, it seemed, was there. Well, who would be in a video game store in the borderline ghetto of the city at ten in the morning? No gamers, that was certain.
All the better. It meant he could purchase his product and leave quickly without having to battle over rights to some game or get into conversations with newbies about which game was better or how to defeat a boss on some ancient system.
It took him little time to locate the game of his desire: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion. It had been out for some time, but things had gotten in the way and Matt just hadn't really made time to purchase it himself. But as he found the spot where it should have been on the rack, he found that the spot was empty.
Empty! Who would buy Oblivion in 2011? It wasn't like everyone else hadn't already bought it by this point…
Suppressing a pathetic whimper, he moved down the aisle to find some other game to placate his thwarted desires. But his foot ran into something…
"Ow!"
Matt looked down to see a young woman clutching a game. He'd not seen her; she was so motionless and small, curled up into a comfortable little ball, reminding him vaguely of L. She turned her head to him quickly, an annoyed look on her lightly tan face.
Dark brown eyes, shadowed by shaggy blue bangs, peered up at him through wire-rimmed glasses. A great mass of curly, ruddy brown hair was tied back into a desperate ponytail, though a few flyaway ends had failed to make it into the bunch and were now floating gently around her face in an almost fluffy kind of way. Her round nose, full lips, and slightly narrowed eyes all indicated that she was Hispanic, as did her body structure: despite the fact that she was rather petite, her chest and rump both stuck out a bit, giving her a curvaceous figure that she attempted to hide with a baggy white T-shirt and jeans combo. An old, purpley-indigo hooded sweatshirt tied about her waist; her feet were shod in a pair of dirty Chuck Taylor sneakers—no longer in style—and a red baseball cap sat at her feet.
Most importantly, in her hands was a copy of Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion.
The girl grabbed her hat and stood (barely reaching Matt's chin in height), still glaring at Matt, though her gaze had lessened in its intensity. "Watch it…"
Matt blinked. "Oblivion?" he stuttered belatedly.
The girl rolled her eyes. "I saw it first."
"Oblivion…"
Silence. The girl frowned, wrinkling her round nose just slightly. Was he some kind of freak…?
Matt almost pouted. "Sorry I knocked into you. I didn't see you…" He gave a vitiated half-smile, preparing to turn on the charm. If need be, he could flirt with her until she didn't know which way was up, and before she knew it, she'd be handing him the game freely.
"I noticed."
Well, this wasn't going well at all. Matt stopped and licked his lips. "Um… are you going to buy that?"
"Are you kidding me? I've been saving up for this for ages!"
Matt nearly wilted at the look in her eyes. How could he possibly deny her the game when she looked at him like that?!
He sighed. "Ah… okay. I'll have to come back some other time, I guess."
He was about to leave when she stopped him with her soft—suddenly shy—voice. "Hey… have you tried Bioshock?"
The corners of Matt's mouth pulled upward just slightly. "Yeah… excellent game."
"Oh…" The clear implication was that she'd been trying to find a reasonable substitute for him. If he couldn't have Oblivion, he should have something equally satisfying, right? "How about The Witcher…?"
Matt's smile widened. "You have great taste in games, my friend."
She gave a shy smile. "I'm Jermanee."
"Matt." It didn't even occur to him that her name was syllabically that of a country; after having lived at Wammy's, well, strange names were an everyday occurrence. Even his own name, Mail… that was hardly typical. His smile faded a bit. "Hey, I can't stay to talk; I've got a… thing…" Technically, it was true; he did have a previous engagement and had barely enough time allotted to run downtown to purchase the game. He scratched the back of his neck a little nervously, slightly upset at himself that he'd just sounded like an insincere idiot. "Um… it was nice to meet you. Enjoy the game, Jermanee."
"Sure…"
Jermanee stared in shock after the handsome, redheaded man had left. Matt… A nice name. Nice guy. Nice body…
She shook her head. Just buy the game and head back to Café Manga…
Café Manga, one of London's most popular cosplay cafés… and it just so happened to be the spot where her brother worked. She didn't always hang out with him at work, but it was a nice place—they had a very well-stocked library—and Jermanee had needed the ride into the city in order to buy her game. Besides, she finally had the day off and could now spend it reading while awaiting her brother to take her back to their apartment.
Seven more hours wouldn't be so bad, not when she had so much manga to read…
Keiko awoke feeling groggy, unkempt, dizzy, and distinctly grubby. A ridiculous fog seemed to cloud her mind, making her thoughts slow and ludicrous. And for once, she was alone. No Misa… but no Lawliet, either. Keiko rolled over to glance at the alarm clock, which declared it to be nine thirteen. She sighed heavily and flopped back into the pillows. She'd not set her alarm, and Lawliet would've insisted that she sleep in…
Her limbs felt like lead as she practically crawled over to the edge of the bed and swung herself off the mattress and onto the floor with a thump! A guttural groan vibrated in her throat as she tried to work up the motivation to make her way to the bathroom to shower.
The door opened, then, to admit Lawliet, who had been alerted to her state of wakefulness by the sound of her falling from the bed. He shuffled over to her side and squatted down, twisting his head so that his face was parallel to hers. "I find it hard to believe that the floor would be that much more comfortable than the bed."
Keiko moaned noncommittally.
"Do you require assistance?"
"Mmmm…" She screwed her eyes shut and dragged her palms to press into the carpet, as though to push herself off the floor, but that was as far as she got before stopping and giving up. "Hafta get up… no motivation…" She thought of breakfast—everyone was probably starving by now… but as her eyes creaked open, she caught sight of coffee stains and miscellaneous crumbs on Lawliet's white shirt, indicating that someone (most likely, Watari) had made breakfast already. She then thought of her children, who were probably being allowed to sleep in—with good reason. Keiko and Lawliet had decided the previous evening that they were going to spend the next week away from Wammy's; their homework was going to be sent over so that their studies would not suffer. Even so… "Aimi 'n Alex…"
"They are in their bedrooms, waiting for an explanation."
"Mmmf…" She tried to push herself up, but one hand slipped on the carpet, allowing her to collapse back onto the floor once again. "Up…"
Warm hands curled under her arms to gently help her to her feet. "Take a shower. Breakfast will be up shortly." Yes, breakfast was definitely Watari's creation. Keiko mentally berated herself for being lazy enough to force Watari over to care for everyone—that was her job and she shouldn't have created more work for him by shirking her chores. With that, the rest of the world came crashing down on her shoulders: Lawliet was still suffering from their sabbatical from one another, and in multiple ways—and on top of this, she'd fallen asleep instead of explaining beforehand her need for rest, thereby just leaving him hanging; Aimi needed an explanation and some company from her parents, just for the sheer joy of being reunited; Alex…
Well, Alex needed many things, most of which Keiko did not know how to give him at the moment. It hurt her deeply to see him so upset, so sure of the lack of love from his parents…
A queer, constricted sort of ache suddenly hit Keiko's chest, signaling the onslaught of tears, and she wanted desperately to just cling to Lawliet and sob. Stubbornly, she swallowed, gulping back the tears and applying a stony expression—her autopilot mode was going to be on for most of the day, if only to keep her from breaking down. Maybe it was just her current weariness… maybe it was her hormones spurring her emotions…
Maybe a shower would help…
Eyes half-lidded with sleep and emotional fatigue, Keiko extricated herself from Lawliet's arms and slumped to the bathroom without a word. She had to remain strong for his sake… If he'd just go, think that she was managing, at best, she'd be free to have a quick cry in the shower and be cleaned up and ready to go with no one the wiser.
"Tenshi…?"
Keiko waved a hand in a vague gesture. "Mm… don' worry 'bout me… I'll pull through…"
Lawliet said nothing. Her depression was blatantly obvious, but something about her demeanor begged to be left alone. Very well… but he was reluctant to leave her in such a state, not when he could be a shoulder to cry on (something she needed every so often, if only for the simple reassurance that there was someone to see her through her troubles, to hold her hand throughout the rough journey). But at the same time, he didn't know if he could stand it. An alien frustration burned under his skin, bubbling, simmering, so close to boiling… so close to provoking him to take out his anger on material objects—or Light Yagami… preferably the latter. For the third time in his life, his male desire to rip, tear, destroy, was nearing the surface. If only he could suppress that urge, keep his anger bottled up inside, he could refrain from breaking anything. Keiko would only be further upset by such a mood. He was angry at their unintended negligence of their children; growing (suppressed) fear of the case, now that he knew who was behind it all; Light's presence in general; the fact that Keiko was upset, partially over his sake…
He was not mad at Keiko, but rather, mad that she was so adversely affected by his own emotions. It meant that he'd failed to hide them adequately.
Then again, perhaps it was just Keiko's perception. She could tell his mood at any given time in the blink of an eye… she was a brilliant psychoanalyst, after all.
So he swallowed his emotions and replaced his look of concern with a mask of blankness, something he'd not worn since the first Kira case…
He wondered how much longer he and Keiko could last before finally breaking down…
"Dammit, why didn't you top off last night?" Mello grumbled as Matt pulled the car into a gas station. "Wouldn't have to stop for petrol…"
Matt shrugged. "I dunno, maybe because I was too busy curling your hair and making sure your gel inserts were straight."
Mello growled a loud curse, followed by something unintelligible. It seemed he was past the furious stage and had now progressed into the sulking, pouting stage. And yet, his expression was twisted into his typically enraged look. No one else but Matt could likely tell that he was not, in fact, murderously angry.
Of course, no one else could likely tell that he was in love, either.
Matt stepped out of the vehicle and set about to refueling the vehicle as Mello headed to the convenience store to purchase a chocolate bar. Idly, he looked around, listening to the sounds of the cars on the roads to the accompaniment of the car's refueling. A colorful-looking café a few stores down caught his eye, and Matt grinned helplessly. Café Manga, a renowned cosplay café… An idea struck him, and, seeing Mello still in the store, made a break for it down the sidewalk and toward the café.
A little breathless, he pushed open the door. The sounds of J-pop flowed into his ears, along with the casual chatter of customers and the occasional clatter of utensils. It was a nice enough atmosphere. Just the kind of place he'd hang out if it weren't for his refusal to have a real social life. Soon enough, he caught sight of a handsome Hispanic man, dressed as Allen Walker, sauntering towards him. (1) A friendly smile lit up his features. "Welcome to Café Manga!" His eyes—one teal, the other red, in accordance with the cosplay—roved Matt's frame and finally settled on his face. "Welcome, indeed…!"
Matt got the distinct impression that this Allen Walker was some kind of sexual deviant. He made no comment; he wanted to be in and out as quickly as possible. "Hi… could I get an application?"
Allen's eyes lit up. "Of course! Be right back… take a seat."
"Thanks." Matt had no intention of seating himself, however, until his eyes came to rest upon a familiar figure…
Hunched over at a table was none other than Jermanee, the girl he'd run into—literally—at the game store that morning. He smiled and approached the table. "Well, fancy seeing you again."
Jermanee looked up from her book—Phoenix Wright, Ace Attorney. Matt was a little surprised to know that they'd come out with a manga for the game, but said nothing. It looked a little yellowed, as though with age, as most manga does within a year or two. It was nothing new, he decided. "Hi," Jermanee offered slowly, blushing. "Wh-what are you doing here?"
It was not a demand, but rather, an attempt at small talk. "Picking up an application. What are you doing here, besides reading?"
"Waiting for my brother to get off work." She paused and blinked. "Are you planning to work here?"
Matt gave the fleeting thought that the implication was obviously yes, but did not say this. "No, actually—it's a joke for a friend."
"Oh?"
Unconsciously, Matt's smile grew wider. "Yeah… he dressed up in drag last night, looked like a real prissy queen… he's straight, though, and I thought I'd tease him a bit."
Jermanee gave a hesitant smile. "I… see…" She didn't.
"It's a long story and I can't stay."
"Do you have… a… thing…?" she wondered innocently in imitation of his words that morning.
He blinked and grinned. She was funny. "Yeah… actually, my friend's right down the street, waiting. I'll be leaving when I get the application." He shrugged and then looked about nervously. "Haha… I think the D. Gray-man waiter was hitting on me when I walked in… creepy fellow, that one."
Jermanee colored again. "Oh…"
Matt's brows furrowed as he got the distinct impression that he'd gone too far. "I'm afraid to ask, but, what…?"
"That's my brother…"
Now, it was Matt's turn to color. "Ooohh…"
Well, he wouldn't ever see this girl or her brother after today, so it wasn't like it made a difference. "Sorry… I… well, I…"
"It's okay. We're both used to it," she mumbled as she stared at the table.
Matt cursed himself inwardly. Look at what you've done this time! Backpedal, man!
How in the world do you recover from THAT?!
"I… I'm not homophobic or anything," he said quickly. "Just, I don't like… I'm… I'm straight. No damage done or anything; I just… prefer girls hitting on me…" Well, that didn't make him sound at all like a two-timing womanizer…
Jermanee nodded. "It's okay… And he's not gay. He's bi."
Matt shoved his tongue into his cheek. Well, that was an interesting tidbit of information… Inwardly, he continued cursing at himself, as though it might compensate for his crime of seeming intolerance. "Oh. That's cool he actually comes out with it," he covered diplomatically. "A lot of people would just try and cover it up, y'know? Takes courage to say what you are."
Jermanee looked a little placated and even gave a tiny smile.
Thankfully, Allen Walker-brother-of-Jermanee reappeared with a slip of paper, which he handed Matt. A quick glance at his nametag proclaimed him to be Xavier.
Xavier winked at Matt and grinned hugely. "Anything else I can get you?"
Matt smiled and shook his head. "No, thanks. I've gotta run. Thanks, man!" And he beat a hasty retreat out the door and back to the car.
Mello leaned on the hood of the thing, glaring pointedly at Matt. "Now, where the hell were you?"
Matt's former cheer returned in full as he handed Mello the slip of paper. "Just a little something I thought you might enjoy…"
In another three seconds, Matt reflected that it would've been far more enjoyable to face the awkwardness with Jermanee and the bisexual Xavier at Café Manga than the now-incensed Mello…
Jermanee flopped down onto the futon in the shared apartment with her older brother. Only two years of living with Xavier, but it felt more like two weeks. So much was always going on, what with university and work and what little time she spent with Xavier… Her life felt very much like a blur. But at the same time, it was reasonably satisfactory.
Eight years ago, Xavier had moved out of the house following a legendary dispute with their mother over his sexual orientation. How could he be bisexual?! their mother had wondered—shrieked, rather. No, he was a good, Catholic boy who was completely heterosexual—or at the least, just plain homosexual… that would've been more acceptable to her than being both ways at once. Xavier, deeply upset by his mother's furious reaction, had moved out, the day after his eighteenth birthday. If he couldn't live in peace under his mother's roof, then he would live by himself. Jermanee, too, had been affected by this, having been only twelve at the time. A period of disillusionment occurred, then, an awakening which transformed her once-semi-perfect world into a rather solemn and shaken, fragile existence. Why couldn't her mother accept Xavier? He was still her son, still the same boy… but her mother, Rosa Diaz, refused. "No, señior!" she'd shouted at the ceiling before turning back to Jermanee. "That sucio is not my son!" (2)
That had clinched it. When Jermanee reached the age of eighteen, she'd moved in with Xavier, and they began catching up on everything they'd missed over the past six years—communication had been strictly limited by their domineering mother. Technically, she'd put the kibosh on any communication whatsoever between them, not wanting her other child spoiled so, but they'd found ways to talk in secrecy every once in a while. Now, the duo were thick as thieves, doing everything possible together. In truth, they were more like best friends than siblings. Jermanee wouldn't have it any other way, and she was positive that Xavier felt the same.
Eight o'clock. Xavier emerged from the bathroom in his pajamas: boxer shorts and a black T-shirt that read "Badass Brother" (a gift from Jermanee on his last birthday; he wore it whenever he could). His shoulder-length black hair hung limply to his shoulders in a wet curtain. Despite the early hour of the evening, he had already showered and dressed for bed. It wasn't like they'd be going anywhere. They both preferred quiet evenings at home over partying all night long. Xavier plopped down in a chair across from Jermanee, who was still on the couch (playing Oblivion, by this point). "So… about that smexy redhead at the Café today…" he said with a suggestive tone.
Jermanee smirked, never removing her eyes from the screen. "He was decent enough."
Xavier studied her for a moment before giggling inanely and pointing. "Oh, you LIKE him, don't you?!"
Irritated, she bit her lip and concentrated on the screen, trying to play it off as focus on the game. "No… I just met him today. That's ridiculous."
"Oh, yes you do! You think he's hot!"
"Do not!"
"You're biting your lip and blushing!" Xavier laughed and stood in front of the television screen, making Jermanee almost roll off the couch in attempt to keep eye contact with it. "You only ever do that when you like someone, dear sister! Come, now! The truth shall set thee free!"
She paused the game to look up at him, ignoring his sing-song voice. "Do not."
"Do, too!"
"Do not."
"DO, TOO!"
"Dork!"
"Nerd."
"Dorky nerd."
"Nerdy dork."
"Dorkishly nerdy geek of an emo," Jermanee shot back.
Xavier stopped and blinked for a few moments before resuming his seat in his chair. "Damn…"
Jermanee smirked. "You just got pwned, dear brother."
"Rub it in." But Xavier smirked again. "But you still think he's hot."
She retaliated by throwing a pillow at him viciously, which only heightened Xavier's victory. "Do not. And don't start with me!"
"Never said I was going to…"
(1—From D. Gray-man.)
(2—Sucio is a Spanish word for someone dirty, vulgar, or obscene. Can be adjective or noun.)
THIS IS NOT TRYING TO MAKE FUN OF HISPANICS/LATINS IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM. THIS IS MERELY ADDING ANOTHER DIMENSION TO THE STORY, AND JERMANEE AND XAVIER JUST SO HAPPEN TO BE HISPANIC. Blame
However, if you wish to flame me for some other reason… well, I'd prefer you not do that, either…
But reviews are wonderfully appreciated!