A/N: So here's chapter six. This is where Wammy's starts to come in. I think this part of the story will be difficult only because I do feel like I need a lot of stuff in this, but I don't know yet how many chapters is going to be Mello in Wammy's. Who knows… we'll see what happens.

Disclaimer: I do not own Mello, or Death Note, or any of the other characters that I use for these stories so, please don't sue me.

Chapter 6: My Name is Mello…

I spent nearly half a year traveling from one orphanage to another. None ever really had everything that I needed at that time.

When they put me in a place that excelled with schools, I became even more violent simply because I was smarter than everyone else and I had grown bored of their academics.

When they placed me in military-type schools that were supposedly filled with kids that couldn't be put in any other place, I rebelled against them all and took control over them.

Anywhere I went I found a way to become better than those around me. And those who tried to beat me never lasted long enough to make any impact or even give me the slightest bit of joy in their defeat.

I needed a place where my skills could actually be challenged and had people there that could put up with my violence.

I remember the day that the place I needed to be at was found.

Well… to be more exact the place I needed to be found me.

I was sitting in some office building with a woman in an expensive looking suit who was on the phone so much it was impossible for me to ask her any questions at all. I simply watched and listened as she talked to whoever kept calling her.

Finally though, she hung up the phone. But I knew it wouldn't stay there for very long.

"So, Mihael, you're back again."

"I guess." I said, looking away.

"It seems we can never find a proper place for you." She said, rubbing her temples.

I remained silent this time; I didn't feel the urge to pick a fight with the woman who decided where my next residence would be.

"You're a difficult case, Mihael, every place we send you ends up sending you back for one reason or another. I'm beginning to wonder if you're doing this on purpose." I wondered to myself if she was really asking me or just thinking aloud.

We stared at each other for a long minute. No emotions were exchanged through the glances. It seemed as though she had lost all sense of empathy for me.

I didn't blame her, I was a difficult case.

All of a sudden the phone on the corner of her desk began ringing once again. She ignored it for a moment to break our connected eyes and dig through one of the drawers in her desk.

"Here," she said coming back up with a small rectangular bar wrapped with silver paper in her hands. She placed in on the desk in front of me, and then picked up the phone.

I looked at the small rectangle sitting in front of me for a long minute, unsure of what exactly it was; I'd never seen anything like this.

"What is it?" I asked.

She looked at me, confused. "It's chocolate."

At the time, I had no idea what the sweet treat known as chocolate was. As a child I was never given such things as candy; so this strange treat was a new thing.

But ever since I had gained my freedom I had been exploring many things that I had never done or seen before. I was constantly trying new foods, learning new games, reading new books and constantly observing the people around me in order to try and grasp how I should be acting.

This was just something else that was new.

So with hesitance hidden under my bold actions, I took the small, foiled treat off the desk and undid the wrapping from around it.

As I took the hard, brown substance from the wrapper and noticed for a moment how it slowly became softer the longer I held it between my fingers. I looked up at the woman and listened as she spoke into the receiver.

"Hello?" She paused for a moment. "Who is waiting?"

I held back my confused expression to look down at the chocolate held in my fingers and carefully slipped it between my lips; the whole time not having any idea of what would come from it.

I've had so many bars of chocolate during the course of my life; all of which helped me in one situation or another. Because of this it's hard to now remember exactly what I felt when I first tasted the sweet chocolate.

I'd like to think that it was sweet to the taste, and that it made everything else fall away from me as I savored the creamy flavor as it melted on my tongue.

In any case, it was enough to get me addicted. It was my first drug of choice.

Once that first piece of chocolate was gone, I had to fight every urge in my body that wanted me to demand another piece from the woman. Normally I wouldn't have held back. Anything I wanted, I'd find a way to get.

But I had enough manners to wait until she was off that damned phone for another minute or two.

So instead I listened to the one side of the conversation I could hear.

"Where is he from?" She asked, her face a picture of confusion as she looked down at the wooden desk. "I don't know where that is; I've never heard of it before."

Again she paused.

"Does he have any proof to show he's legitimate?" She asked as her confused look only deepened; I watched with mild and slowly fading interest.

But finally she sighed, "alright, fine. Please let him in." With that she hung up the phone again and sighed.

I decided this was an opportune time to strike. "I want another piece of that chocolate." I said without faltering in the slightest.

Her brown eyes moved up to mine. "That's rather rude."

I was silent; it wasn't like I cared about what she thought anyway.

Finally she sighed again and dug into her drawer, bringing out an identical piece of the wrapped candy.

But then, just as she set the wrapped treat in front of me, the only door into this office opened. I didn't care enough to turn and see who had entered into the room; I was much too preoccupied with the candy I had been given.

"Good morning," came an older man's voice from behind me. His voice was thick with an accent that I wasn't familiar with.

This spiked my interest.

As I slipped the chocolate into my mouth I turned to see who the newcomer was.

The man that entered into the room that day was Watari. It was one of the few times that I ever got to see the actual founder of Wammy's house. Normally he was always with L, so he came around the orphanage almost as much as L himself… and that was never very often.

Watari never changed over the years, he looked like the same proper gentlemen when I was a kid all the way up until the last time I ever saw him.

But the first time my blue eyes laid on him, I was left with only the confused expression.

"My name is Quillish," he stated. "I'm the founder of an orphanage in England that houses many prodigy children. I was alerted to the fact that you have such a child in your possession now."

My eyes traveled back to the woman, who looked to be as confused as I had been. I couldn't decide whether he was talking about me, or if it was some other orphan child that they were discussing as if I wasn't even there.

"What did you say the name of it was?" She asked.

"Wammy's is the name. But it's a private institution, which is why it escapes your knowledge of orphanages," he explained.

"Are you talking about me?" I asked, bringing the attention down to me. I was just as audacious and outspoken at that time as I was when I got older. In my mind, questions and statements were just words so what was the point of holding them back when they caused less harm than physical actions?

"Are you Mihael Keehl?" Watari asked me.

I nodded.

"Then yes, I am."

"Mihael is a difficult orphan, sir. In half a year he's already been moved around nearly a dozen other places," she stated, making me come across as such a bad kid. It wasn't like I cared, it just didn't sound right to my ears.

"I understand that; I think we will have the means of taking care of him."

The woman sighed, running her fingers through her brown hair as she stared at the ceiling; I figured she'd lapsed into thought. This man, Watari, intrigued me from the very beginning and I found myself hoping that the woman would let me go. I wanted to know more about this new orphanage that had sought me out for a change.

"If you think so then by all means, you may have him. But if you decide that he's too much then keep him in England. We don't have the services here for him anymore." I gave her a small glare. She was making me out to just be weight she was putting on someone else. I was not just useless weight!

"I understand." Watari said with a nod, "I will send for his files soon."

"I'll have them taken out for you." She said.

Watari then turned to me. "Ready," he asked.

I stood and nodded, the desire to leave was much stronger than it had been before.

Watari led me out of the room, then silently out of the entire office building and to a black, sleek looking car. He got in the driver's seat and allowed me to sit in the front, leather passenger's seat; something I'd never done before.

My eyes trailed over to the older man as we began to drive away. "How did you find me?"

"We were searching for orphan children, such as you, who are particularly smart and quick learners," he explained.

"We?"

"Everything will be explained to you in due time. This is not the place where things will all be revealed."

I felt as though I was suddenly being dropped into the beginning of one of the stories I used to read. All of this sounded too odd to me; something didn't feel right about all of this. I remember looking upon Watari again and wondering to myself what exactly I had freely accepted going into.

"However," his voice brought me out of my thoughts again, "I can reveal some things right now. The orphanage that I run is a very secretive place that doesn't run like the majority of other orphanages you've probably been to."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"We train children to someday succeed the great detective L."

I remember instantly thinking what a stupid name that was, and how I didn't want to be involved in anything that sounded so absurd. But Watari cut me off before I could voice my thoughts.

"As a protective measure, each of the orphans at Wammy's has an alias that they go by; a name that they take and use instead of their real name."

'So I'm being re-named?' I thought to myself, and couldn't help thinking how stupid that sounded. All of this was proving to be stupid.

"So… do you have any ideas for a new name you would like?" He asked in a light enough tone to show he knew he was talking to a child but not so much that it was condescending.

"My name is Mihael." I said.

"If you're going to go to Wammy's you'll have to ignore that name and act as though it doesn't exist. If people can get a hold of who you are then they can destroy you."

'Destroy me?' I thought. I didn't want to be destroyed anymore than I already felt like I had been.

"I don't know any names." I said quietly. My pride wasn't as high at that time; if it had been I would have never admitted to my lack of creative nature at the time.

Watari gave a 'hm' to show he had slipped into thought as I watch and waited with a growing feeling of anxiousness at wanting to know what he would think of. I wasn't sure why I was so intrigued with what he was saying all of a sudden.

"How about Mello?" He finally said.

"My name is Mihael." I couldn't help the need to state that. The thought of losing the one thing that held me to my old life wasn't something I was ready to give up.

My name was the only thing I had left to keep me tied to the past. Even though I despised my parents, and understood that they never loved me… letting my given name go would be letting myself forget. To this day I'm still not sure why I was so stubborn about wanting to keep it.

"You can't keep that name."

"My name is Mihael!" My eyes closed and I looked away; my blonde hair hid my face from his view.

"Mihael… you must understand what I'm telling you. It's either you agree to these terms or I take you back now."

I had to think about it, heavily; my fingers played with the cross on the end of the rosary I still had hanging from around my neck. Did I want to give up the only thing I really had left? Wouldn't that mean I was giving everything up?

But on the other hand, what would I be getting in return for such a substantial loss? A new life, a fresh start; a chance to recreate myself into whatever I wanted to be. It was an ideal thought to look at.

With a silent sigh, my lips parted, "My name is Mello."

At that one, single moment, all of my past life dropped away from me. No longer was I the Keehl son that was never wanted. I no longer needed to live in the black nightmare of my family.

I was Mello now, and it was the start of a new life for me.

A/N: So, I kind of like the ending to that. It shows one of the three major life changes that Mello had to go through. At first I thought there might be four, but at the moment all I can think of is three. Oh well. This certainly was an interesting chapter; it didn't go as far as I had wanted but I think it was impactful enough. Next chapter will definitely have Wammy's in it!

Please review!
-Forbiddensoul562