Chapter 04 – Journey to the truth

Alone in his room, the white one quietly smiled to himself.

--

"Next… as hospitable as this place is, we really have to go."

Next looked confused, pushing the contents of his breakfast plate around with a fork. "But didn't Mello say that he wishes to stay?"

Mello nodded. "Stay in this reality, yes. But not here in the castle."

"What does Mello mean?" The prince asked.

Mello glanced at an equally as confused Matt for a few moments before turning back to Next and offering an explanation. "I want to go see the white one."

Mail gave him an amused look while Next stared at him in surprise. "The white one?" Next repeated. "Why does Mello want to see the white one…?"

"Well," Mello breathed, before taking a glass of orange juice, which surprisingly actually tasted like orange juice. "I had a dream about him last night."

"A dream…" Mail hummed, smiling around his fork. Matt was doing the same, but for different reasons.

"I'm not getting into details," Mello stated firmly, setting the ground rules. "But I'll spend the rest of my life wondering if I don't figure this out. Mail, do you mind taking me with you? If you do, I'll figure out a way to get there on my own."

"I'm coming too," Matt chirped before Mail could answer. "No way I'm sitting this one out!"

"I can take you two with me," Mail confirmed. "Next, could you provide them with a horse? The swiftest one you can manage. I was hoping to travel there in two days time."

"Two days?" Next asked. "Its normally a three day travel…"

"Not with my horse," Mail boasted. He looked at Matt and Mello. "If you two are to travel with me you will ride a horse together – I will hear no complaints, three horses will slow us down. If you don't like it, I'll tie a rope to your ankles and you can ride behind me."

Matt and Mello looked at each other, before offering, "No complaints!"

"We wont be doing much resting," the guard went on. "I want to make it there before Mihael decides to leave."

"When are we going?" Mello asked.

"In one hour," Mail informed.

"Mello and Matt had best get ready, then," Next cut in.

"Yeah," Matt said with a smile. "We'd best get ready."

--

To say Matt was a bit excited was an understatement. Not that it was practical, getting excited about visiting one of the dullest people he knew – but it was someone he hadn't seen in six years, someone who had been dead the last time they'd met up. Matt had been assigned to see the body into its grave, since Mello couldn't handle seeing his life-long rival dead at his feet. Near had barely been eighteen, at the time… he'd looked all peaceful and shit, laying there. Like he was asleep, or something equally as cheesy.

But here he was, alive and well. Twenty-four, by now… maybe twenty five, Matt couldn't remember his birthday. All grown up. He wondered if Near still looked like a fourteen year old girl or if age had finally gotten to him…

He supposed he could judge by looking at Next, but for some reason the two of them just… didn't seem like the same person. Next had Near's attitude of superiority without doubt, but at the same time he was kind and bright, not to mention the boy actually smiled and frowned. He had longer hair and bluer eyes… it was like two different people with the same name.

Kind of like himself and Mail, he supposed – the sound of his own name was weird to his ears. He'd never thought of that as his name, not since becoming Matt… hell, even before Wammy's he had gone by nicknames, instead of 'Mail'. Yet this 'other him' wore the name proudly, like a badge. He supposed it was a good thing… if they both went by Matt, how were they going to tell them apart?

This other him… he was quite different. He wasn't fun loving and lazy, didn't play video games or smoke. He had a sense of himself that almost made Matt jealous, a pride that only came from knowing you could win before you even began a problem. Then again, the guy was the highest guard of a fucking King… he supposed pride just came with that title in waves so big they could take down Miami.

The guy was cold, much like Near – although he didn't have that same 'I'm better then you so why should I bother with you?' attitude. He seemed like a nice enough guy if you got him away from his work, but he was very serious about keeping Next and probably Mihael safe.

Mail, Mihael… both of their other halves went by their real names. But why didn't Next? Matt had been there when Mikami had written Near's name down and his real name was certainly not 'Next'. Nate River, that's what the crazy emo guy had said. So why didn't Next go by the name 'Nate'…? Was he just like them- did he have a bad past that he wanted to hide under a fake name and a fake identity?

It was obviously a coincidence, but as far as Matt could remember, Near had used the code name 'Next' as a backup code name. Each of them had backups in case they had to hide out or give a false name. L had given Near the backup name 'Next' to go along with his own backup 'Last'. It had pissed Mello off to no end.

Not that Mello could remember that… Matt had fucked up big time, this time around. But really, given the situation, who could blame him? Aside from Mello and possibly Near – but when the blonde saw his boyfriend he'd be okay again! That was the condition, so Matt had put it.

Mello had been upset after Near had shoved him back into his own reality and closed the gate. Matt had never seen the blonde so unhappy – angry he had seen, but sad? Crying? It was like Mello had come back a different person… and he had. Tales of working with Near, learning magic, all this craziness that eventually lead up to a confession of love that Matt had known about but never expected. And he'd just smiled sadly and told Mello he believed him, didn't give a reason why or an explanation. He believed him, and that was what mattered.

It had only gotten worse from there. Mello couldn't work, he refused to eat, he wasn't sleeping – he couldn't function in this state of depression. They put off any casework that came up, turned down all sorts of mysteries. Mello just sat on the couch all day and all night, staring blankly at the mirror on the other side of the room.

'A mirrored reality,' he would laugh every so often. 'Can you believe that…? Not only are there infinite realities, but there are infinite mirrored versions of them. I'd hate to live in a mirrored world, anyway… copying everything your other half does. Or maybe it just comes naturally. I don't know, I didn't understand it. Just like I didn't understand how the language worked. Were they speaking English or did I just hear English…?'

He would go off like that for a while then just stop and stare some more.

Mello was a wreck.

Matt didn't have the heart to tell him that he could contact Near or that he could send him back.

But he just couldn't do it.

So he erased his memories.

He did it to protect Mello. Because he was going down the tunnel of depression and it was a dead end with no light. All that could happen now was Mello starving himself to death or killing himself… he wouldn't even eat chocolate, for crying out loud! What else could Matt do? It was for the best… it was for the best!

Or so he told himself.

Okay… so he was jealous. He could admit it… to himself. Admitting it to someone else, now that was never going to happen. Matt was jealous. Not that he had the hots for Mello or Near or anything – he was just jealous that they had both found someone. But that wasn't why he'd erased Mello's memories… he was just looking out for his friend, or some shit like that.

Besides, he'd made sure that if Mello ever saw Near again (or rather the Near he was in love with… Next didn't count) that his memories would come back. Of course, he was inwardly hoping Mello never saw him… mostly because he was afraid the blonde was going to kill him very slowly when his memories did return… but now that they could, why not?

…Yeah, he was going to die.

--

Next had bid them farewell almost sadly as they'd headed off on horseback. Just a small wave and a whisper of, 'be safe'. Like a homebound lover sending their heart off to war, knowing fully that there was a chance they wouldn't come back. Piper at his side, waving as well.

In that split second, Mello realized just how much Piper and Next looked alike. But he didn't let it bother him.

They rode for hours in silence. Mail on his horse and Mello on his, Matt behind him. They went at a painful speed that made Mello's bum ache, but he couldn't ask for anything else – he was impatient and was already getting fed up, ready to meet this 'white one'.

He lost track of time, quietly thinking about what had happened in the bath. About the memories that he was beginning to believe weren't real. About that time at the pool, the one where he could swear had just been him and L, yet he could clearly remember sitting in the hospital after pushing someone into the water.

White… it was still all he could see when he thought about that boy. That was why he had decided to go see the white one. It was a stretch, but these thoughts hadn't started until he'd come to this world… and Mail had said they'd met before, that he was the 'dark one'. It was worth a shot, worth a shot…

Eventually they stopped for the night. Mail told them they were making good time, then pointed to a nearby mountain and said that the white one lived there in a castle made of ice. Matt looked pained, like he took the lonely thought personally. Mello asked to talk to the redhead alone.

They stood off to the side as Mail cooked some of the food they'd brought with them.

As tempted as Mello was to accuse Matt of knowing who the white one was, he knew it was extremely possible that whatever erased his memories erased Matt's as well. So, instead, he approached with a question. "Do you remember there being a little boy at the orphanage?"

Matt gave him a look like he'd just lost ninety percent of all of his brain cells. "Mel," he offered in a caring voice, placing a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "There were a lot of little boys at the orphanage."

Mello shook his head, realizing how dumb the question had sounded. "I mean," he went on, trying to explain although he wasn't sure what to say. "…Do you remember that time that L took me swimming?"

"Yeah," Matt responded with a nod.

"Did he take anyone else with?"

Matt looked torn. Mello assumed that he was thinking it over, trying to remember – little did he know that Matt was actually debating if he should tell the truth or not. But he trusted Matt, so he didn't doubt him. Matt just didn't know, he didn't know anything.

"Yeah," Matt finally said.

Mello frowned, eyes wandering off. "I knew it…"

"But you can't remember?" Matt offered.

Mello looked at him. "You…?"

"I'm sorry," Matt offered, before he turned and walked back over to the camp. Mello knew he wasn't going to get any more out of the redhead – in fact he would be surprised if Matt spoke to him again by the time they reached the white one. The truth would come out on its own, Mello knew that for a fact… but why was Matt afraid of that? Something was up and he had a feeling he would be smacking his friend around by the end of it.

They laid out their bedding and went to rest. Mail offered to take watch, insisting that he couldn't sleep much when he went on journeys anyway. Mello hadn't protested although he was pretty sure he wasn't going to be getting much sleep, either.

He laid on his bed staring up at the stars, instead. If the universe was infinite and there were infinite realities, then just how many people were there in existence? Infinite, probably. Somewhere around there. And just how many versions of him were there? How many Matts, how many Nexts? How many 'white one's…?

'Mello.'

He jumped. There was that voice again – that flood of loneliness taking over his senses. He sat up, grabbing his head in his hands. His nose was on fire, his ears ringing… he could see white threads, entwining with black.

'Mello.'

"Who are you?" He asked out-loud, before realizing that whatever this was, it probably was going on inside of his head. 'Who are you?' He thought, this time.

A flash of excitement, then happiness. A smile- he couldn't see but he knew there was a smile… a rare smile, one that he wanted to savor and kiss and oh god, oh god, what was going on!?

'Mello, you're in danger.'

'I'm in danger?' He questioned, confused. Mail was looking at him oddly and Matt had woken up, rubbing at his eyes.

'There's a group of scouts following the three of you,' the voice went on. 'They were following Next before, but they split up when you left the castle.'

'Next? Who is following Next?' Mello asked. What was this voice talking about?

'A group from Marihanda. They think you are Mihael. You need to get out of there, now.'

'Wha-'

'NOW.'

Mello jumped as the calm voice suddenly yelled into his mind, waves of eager worry biting into his very being. And, just as he did, an arrow flew by, a few inches in front of his face, before sticking into a nearby tree, still shaking from the force.

"Shit!" Matt yelled.

Then they were surrounded. 'A group of scouts' had apparently meant ten or fifteen guys, all with very deadly looking bows and very sharp looking arrows.

"Marihanda," Mail breathed.

"The shit?" Matt questioned, scrambling to stand.

"Ask the white one what we are to do," Mail told Mello.

"Huh?" Mello offered.

"Do it!" Mail snapped.

'Um… white one?' Mello tried, although he could feel the threads undoing themselves once more. 'Hello? Are you there?'

No answer.

"Nothing," Mello informed.

"Great," Mail huffed, taking a step back as the scouts began to close in.

Then, suddenly, 'All of you, move to the left.'

'What?' Mello asked, but he obeyed, grabbing Mail and Matt and dragging them to the left.

Matt yelped out and stumbled back into Mello, narrowly avoiding as a huge chunk of earth beneath their feet suddenly rose up, sending the three or so scouts on top of it flying through the air.

"Holy shit," Mello gasped.

The next few were taken out by what looked like a huge blizzard. A few more fell victim to flames that appeared out of nowhere. The last couple were suddenly surrounded by water and dragged backward, through the forest.

"What the fuck was that?" Matt asked.

"The white one," Mail told him.

"He's here?" Matt asked, looking around them.

Mail shook his head, looking at Mello. "The dark one is his soul mate. My guess is that he used their connection to cast magic."

Matt looked at Mello in surprise. "You can do that…?"

"Apparently," Mail hummed.

Matt fell quiet after that.

"We need to go," Mail said, pulling Matt up off the ground. "Its possible that those aren't the last of them. We can rest once we're at the castle."

"Okay," Matt confirmed. Mello didn't say anything, but he began to pack up his stuff.

The connection between he and the white one had gone dead, once more. And it felt like a part of him was missing.

--

"Piper is going home, correct?"

Piper nodded, putting down the circlet she had been looking at. She was in Next and Mihael's room, looking through all of his things, while he got ready for bed.

"Say hello to Linda for me?" Next requested, pulling on a long shirt to sleep in.

"I will," She confirmed, turning around.

Next watched her for a few moments before smiling. He took a seat on the large bed, pulling one knee up to his chest. "I'm glad to have met Piper. Even though Piper isn't technically my daughter, its close enough that I feel a connection."

Piper smiled too, taking a seat next to him on the bed. "I never actually met my father… you're the closest thing I've met."

"Why doesn't Piper stay?" Next asked. "Piper can meet the white one… he is more like Piper's father then I am. They even have the same name."

"My mom would kill me," Piper informed, shaking her head. "Besides… I kind of like the illusion I have of him. I don't want to break it."

"I understand," Next said with a nod. He then hummed, curling his hair around his fingertips. "Can I tell Piper a secret?"

"Sure, go ahead," she answered.

He smiled. "I'm more like Near then you think."

--

It was about a day and a half into the two-day ride that they ran into him. Riding along, zipping past them in all his hurry. Mail had to turn around and try to catch up to him, calling out his name. Mello just stopped his horse and watched from a distance, wondering if this meant he would have to make it the rest of the way to the white one with just Matt.

"Mihael!" Mail finally managed to catch the man and they both slowed to a stop just within Mello's hearing range.

"Heh," Matt scoffed, nudging Mello in the shoulder. "You've got blue bangs, dude."

"You've got a tail," Mello retorted.

"Shut the fuck up," Matt whined.

"Mail, what are you doing here?" Mihael asked and Mello realized Matt was correct… although he looked like a carbon copy of Mello, his bangs and a few of the longer strands of his hair were dyed dark blue. He also held himself with a confidence Mello had never had. It was obvious he was some sort of royalty, if not by the clothes then by the air he held around himself.

"I've come to retrieve you, my lord," Mail responded. "Next has returned. He is in the castle, waiting for you, as we speak."

"He is safe?" Mihael asked.

"Why wouldn't he be?" Mail questioned.

"The white one told me there were scouts after him," Mihael explained.

Mail glanced toward Mello and Matt and Mihael's eyes followed him. The king looked surprised to see himself sitting on a horse twenty or so feet away.

"A group of scouts attacked us last night," Mail explained. "The white one saved us."

"The-" Mihael breathed, seemingly unable to say anything more. He just sort of sat there, in shock.

"As long as he's in the castle, Next will be safe," Mail told the king, putting a hand on his shoulder. "But your choice is up to you, my friend. As for me, I promised to take these two to visit the white one."

"I will return home," Mihael said, still eyeing Mello carefully. "I wish to see that he is alright for myself. Not that I don't trust you, my friend, but-"

"Think nothing of it," Mail interrupted, removing his hand from Mihael's shoulder and turning his horse around. "I will see you in a few days. Have a swift and save journey, my good friend."

Then Mail was riding back toward them, urging them to follow.

With one careful look at each other, both Mello and Mihael headed in their own directions.

--

'Mello.'

He had been dozing off until he heard that voice again and felt the feeling of… something, creeping up on him. Love? No, that wasn't it… was it? Mello wouldn't know, he had never felt it before.

'What is it?' He questioned.

'Next has been captured by the Marihanda scouts.'

Mello almost choked in surprise.

"What's wrong?" Mail asked.

"The white one just told me that Next has been captured," Mello told him.

Mail scoffed. "Tell the white one to check his sources. There is no way Next could be captured while he is inside the castle."

'While Mail is correct,' The white one went on. Mello had no idea how he managed to hear his conversations, however… probably the same way he could tell the scouts were there. 'Next did not stay in the castle.'

"He says that Next didn't stay in the castle," Mello informed.

Mail was quiet for a few moments before he cursed below his breath and smacked himself in the forehead. "That stupid little…"

"So we have to head back?" Matt asked. "To save Next?"

"Mihael is already on his way there," Mail answered. "And besides, if he's already been kidnapped, there's not much more we can do. Lets just finish our journey… the castle isn't far now. Maybe an hour away."

"Are you sure?" Mello asked. Not that he really cared, he just didn't want to hear Mail whine about it later.

"Nope," Mail answered honestly. "Lets go."

--

Mail had been right about the castle being made of ice. Mello was a bit freaked out, looking up at the giant building that looked like it would melt under the sun – but as far as he could tell it wasn't melting in the least bit.

"Here we are," Mail said, lifting a hand to knock on the door.

"He lives in here?" Matt asked.

"I would assume since we traveled all this way to visit him and we're standing in front of this door, this is where he is," Mail responded.

Matt only snorted in a mix of distain and amusement.

Mail knocked three times before lowering his hand.

It took a few moments but finally the door opened, revealing a brunette in about his thirties, one that Matt and Mello knew instantly.

"Yagami Light!?" They both gasped in shock.

"Ah, the dark one is here," Light said with a small bow. "The white one has been expecting you. Please, follow me." He turned and headed off, up a flight of stairs.

"What the shit?" Matt asked Mello.

"Just go with it," Mello breathed, not sure what he was saying. He had seen Yagami Light die- had seen it with his own two eyes. Watched as the Shinigami wrote his name in the death note and as he breathed his last breath of life. Yet here he was, walking up the stairs, taking them to meet the white one.

Mello followed first, Matt and Mail trailing behind him.

Yagami lead them up to a room, opening the door. He stood, waiting for them to enter.

"You want me to trust you," Mello stated as if Light was the dumbest person in existence.

"We've never met," Light told him.

Mello gave a noise of distain but did not protest, knowing how possible it was (although just a day ago he wouldn't have believed) that they'd never met. Still, he couldn't help but feel hostile toward Yagami.

"This is the white one's room," Yagami told him. "He informed me that you were to meet him in here. He will only be a few moments. I will leave the door open so you do not feel trapped. Please, make yourselves comfortable." With that said, Yagami walked away, not looking back.

Eyeing Matt without saying anything, Mello stepped into the bedroom quietly.

"Wow," Matt stole the words right out of his mouth. The room was filled with toys of all sizes, from stuffed to metal, robotic (although they probably didn't have any working lights or anything, unless it was all magical) to cute and cuddly. The bed was large and made of light blues and whites where as the dresser and all the other wood in the room were all dark. It was nicely decorated although for some reason Mello found himself thinking that the white one probably didn't design the room himself.

"This is the room of the mirror king?" Mail questioned.

"It looks like the room of an eight year old," Mello mused.

"Actually," came a voice from behind them, catching their attention and causing them all to turn around. "It's the room of a twenty four year old."

As Mail gave a respectful half-bow and Matt choked out a surprised, "N-Near?" Mello stared quietly into the eyes of the man before him.

The white one.