Another slow day at Wammy House. Such a dull orphanage. I roll over onto my stomach and continue to loll on my bed. My roommate is out. Such a dull girl. I should leave this place, I think. But I am not up for adoption. I am too smart for that. I am like the understudy of L's successors. I wish I could leave. This place is so boring sometimes.

There is a knock on the door. Roger walks in. Quite a dull man, if you ask me.

"Catt?"

I sigh. "Yes?" I ask.

"Mello is leaving now."

I perk up. Mello, my only friend. He is leaving today. Lucky thing. He's allowed to go because he's in line to succeed L so he doesn't need 'parental supervision'. I have met L. He isn't all that great. Quite odd. Not as dull as all the dimwads here, though. He's actually pretty interesting.

I am classified just below L's successors. I have just below the necessary IQ—mine's 197. You need at least 200. Matt's just a bit dimmer than me. He's Mello's other friend. Mine too, I guess. Roger likes to think Near is also a part of our group, but I know Mello houses a deep and bitter jealousy of Near. I wonder if Roger actually believes that Near and Mello are all 'chummy'. He actually used that word once. Such a dull dimwad.

But it makes Mello angry. He has some inferiority complex or something. He's convinced that Near is better than him. I think Near's a dimwad too, but apparently he's smart enough to succeed L. Mostly everyone here is a dimwad, especially Roger. Only he's the dull type, which makes it worse.

However, Mello is leaving, and since he's the only one that bothers to even acknowledge my presence, I get up to say goodbye. Roger stands aside from the doorway as I walk out, chin high. I'm only a year and three months younger than Mello, but I have to wait five more years before I can ditch this stupid place. Apparently, even though he's almost fifteen and I'm thirteen, being the successor of a detective makes you more responsible. Trust me; I know Mello. It doesn't.

Mello is standing by the door wearing a leather jacket, like he always does. His eyes were wandering around the room, no doubt searching for something to remember about this place. Then he sees me and smiles. I smile back, but on the inside I am scowling.

"I can't believe you're already leaving," I say, but on the inside I am telling him to stay.

"Yeah," he replies quietly. "Me neither. Can't believe I finally get to leave this crappy excuse of a home."

"Don't do anything stupid," I admonish, but what I really mean is, "You can't die, because then I'll be alone."

He laughs. "When have I ever done anything stupid?"

I eye him doubtfully. "Is that counting the time you climbed onto the roof for my kite? Or maybe the time you fell out of a tree trying to climb higher than Near? Or got frostbite trying to see who could hold his hand in a snow bank longest? Or—"

"Okay, okay," he says defensively, holding up his hands. "Maybe I'm not the most careful, but who ever got anywhere without taking risks?"

"Fine," I reply evenly. "Just promise that when you come back, it won't be in a coffin."

"Cross my heart," he says, tracing and X on the front of his jacket with a finger.

"I…I'll miss you, oniisan," I sigh, using may rarely-used nickname for him; Japanese for big brother. I had learned it from watching Japanese television so much, so I was a bit fluent. The Kira investigation TV was always in Japanese.

I sigh. Then I throw my arms around his neck. He hugs me back.

"I'll miss you too," he whispers in return. "Thanks for being a friend."

"Anytime," I reply. "Thanks for brightening up my Hellhole." He laughs quietly.

I let go, and so does he. "Well," he says sadly, running out of ways to stall, "I guess…this is goodbye, Catt."

"Goodbye, Mello." I look down. I do not want him to see that I am crying on the inside, screaming, "No! You can't just ditch me in this freaking hole! You're my only family!"

He pushes an old shoebox into my hands. It is taped shut. Then he leans forward and kisses my forehead. I am surprised. We've been friends for a long time, but he's never really physically acknowledged it before. I know that all he means is that we are like family and he will miss me almost as much as I will miss him. He is like my big brother, always looking out for me. I will miss him greatly. I hug him a final time to hide my tears, holding the box in one hand. I do not want him to see my cry. I do not want anyone to see me cry. I cannot show weakness in this stupid world of hate.

"I'm sorry I can't take you with me," he says.

"I'm sorry I can't come," I reply sardonically. "You're so lucky. You're free."

"Hah," he scoffs. "Lucky, yeah right. You don't even know why I have to leave." Then, quieter still, he continues, "I have to continue the Kira case. L's dead."

There is a horrified pause as I take in the information. "You mean…?"

"Yes," Mello replies, knowing my implied question. "He was killed by Kira. I must solve the case before Near. Imagine…me, solving a case even the great L couldn't crack, and I might finally surpass Near."

"Mello…" I am at a loss for words. I know there is nothing I can say to make him believe that he has always been better than Near in my eyes. There is nothing I can say that will stop him from leaving. Finally I pull away. I look up at him. I scowl. I do not want him to leave.

"I'll miss you." I hate to be so repetitive, but I don't know what else to say.

"See ya, little sis," he replies, tousling my short black hair and trying a smile. It doesn't reach his eyes. Tears fill my mismatched eyes—one brown, the other a frosty green. My eyes scare some people. This is why most people don't talk to me.

I return the sad smile and punch his arm. "See ya."

He claps my shoulder proudly. "Keep up your training. You're doing great. And keep an eye on Matt."

"I will."

I wish I could say something more, but it is too late, and soon he is gone. I return to my room with the shoebox and sit on the bed. I breathe for a moment to clear the tears from my eyes. Soon I am fine. I look down at the box.

It is a box from some old Nike's. This is the type of shoe Mello used to wear, when he was about ten. I know now this is why the box is so small. I am curious, so I peel off the tape. I will put it back on, after.

Inside the box is many pictures of Mello, and I am also in some of them. Near is in some of them too, but all of them have Mello. This I notice immediately. Also, Near is always in the background. Never with Mello or me.

There is also a folded piece of lined paper. I pull it out. It has my name on it, so I unfold it. It is covered in blue pen, and I recognize Mello's writing. I read the letter. It fills my eyes with tears for the second time today. It says:

Catt:

I'm sorry I had to leave. But you knew I would have to one day. I just want you to know that I want you to stay safe and I'll miss you. Knowing you, you'll have made me promise to stay out of trouble, but you need to know that that's out of the question. I'm sorry, but I need to take risks if I'm to outdo Near.

Also knowing you, you'll have gone up to your room as soon as I was out the door to crack open this box. That's the exactly why I taped it. I knew you would be curious enough to open it. However, please be more careful in the future. You know the saying. Curiosity killed the Catt. (Ha, ha)

I want you to know that these are all of the pictures of me that have ever been taken. It took me a while to collect them all. I want you to keep them safe…you know, out of people's sight. I don't trust most of the people I know, or anyone I don't know. So that basically leaves you and Matt, and you know Matt's an irresponsible dick. I know you'll keep them safe.

I don't know when (or if) I'll see you again. I hope I'll be alive when I do. I wanted you to know that I've always thought of you as family. You'll always be my little sister. I want you to know that I love you. I'll miss you. Hope I see you soon.

-Mello

By the time I am finished, the tears I worked so hard to fight back have escaped my eyes, leaving tracks on my cheeks. I hastily wipe them away on my sleeve. I've never cried before. I hadn't even cried when I broke my arm.

I miss Mello already. I am glad he wrote in pen, because I know he would have erased the 'I love you' part if he could have. He would have thought it was cheesy, but I don't care. He and I really are like family. I will miss having a big brother.

But I am also smiling, because he knows me so well. He had known that if he taped to box, I would open it. He had known I would make him promise to stay out of trouble. I miss him.

I sigh and start to look through the pictures. I have nothing better to do. It is Saturday, so no university-level schooling today. I have nothing at all to do. So I sit and look through pictures.

There are a lot of them. They have pictures of Mello since when he was around three years old. The most recent one is from not even a week ago. Mello is standing, smiling (this is one of the only pictures that he is smiling in). I am standing with him, laughing. I am leaning on Mello's shoulder, almost falling over with laughter. Mello is laughing at me almost as hard as I am laughing myself. He has his arm around me to keep me from falling over. I laughed so hard that day that I ended up forgetting why I had been laughing. Something Matt had said to Near. It was ridiculous.

The picture was from Quillish Wammy's last visit. I suppose if L is dead, so is he. That's sad. I liked him. He was one of the only non-dull people here. More recently he was away all the time, helping L with the Kira case. We at Wammy House had followed the case closely, on TV and newspapers. It was pretty dull. I could always tell that L was leaving out all the important details, keeping most of the info to himself.

Wammy himself had snapped the photograph, saying that any time Mello was happy was a time to remember. I had agreed with him at the time. I still do. Mello rarely shows joy to anyone. That was a happy time.

It's not a happy time anymore.

I take the box and, cringing at the tiny space, worm under the bed, lifting up the loose floorboard. I had hidden a few things under there before; the better part of Near's Lego, Matt's Gameboy, Roger's phone, once, even…but now it's mostly empty. Hey, I'm not all bad; the items had all mysteriously reappeared after a while.

But now, the hollow area would be home to the pictures of Mello. No one knew of the board but me and him, so it is safe enough. It's also convenient because of my claustrophobia; no one would believe I could overcome it enough to hide under a bed.

Before I drop the board, I fish into the box for the picture I knew I had left at the top; the one of Mello and I. I fish around in the hole for something I know I haven't returned yet; a box of tacks. Roger can just get some new ones.

I climb out from under the bed and tack the picture to my headboard. No one will notice it there, on the low bottom bunk. No one ever bothers to look there. I sigh and look at the picture. This would be a long wait.