New longest chapter, oh yeah! I hope you like it :). Sorry about Matt and Mello's lack of friendship at first, I promise that as their friendship grows they will become the dynamic duo we all know and love. And also I apologize if Mello seems out of character but this is just how I interpret him when he's young. When he grows his character will develop. Anyways, here it is:
"It's very beautiful, isn't it?" Mail looked up from the window slowly at the sound of Ryuzaki's – Or L's- voice. He was reluctant to tear his eyes away from the plane's window and the colors that stretched across the sky beyond the glass. It was strange to see the city that held his home growing smaller and smaller as the plane rose from the ground, until it became a patch work quilt, sewn into sections of green and grey. He supposed that it was not at as ugly as he had once thought, at least not from this perspective. It was hard to imagine that anything at all could be ugly with a sunrise soaked horizon casting its light upon it. The pastel pinks and oranges seemed to dribble down from the sun and blend into the clouds. Like painting, thought Mail as he smiled.
"The world is a very big place isn't it?" he asked. Being in a plane had made Mail come to the conclusion that all children do at some point or another – that he is a very tiny part of something larger than anyone knows or understands and that he has very little effect on this great expanse of land and sea and the things inside it.
"Quite the opposite actually," replied Ryuzaki. "You have some knowledge of the layout of our solar system, correct? Earth is the fifth largest planet out of the eight we have. And that's just our galaxy. The universe itself goes on forever. And we don't know what's in it past a certain point. If you take everything and put it to scale, the Earth and what goes on in it are completely insignificant. We are but a speck of dust in the scheme of things."
The corners of Mail's lips were pulled down at this thought. He didn't like the idea of the Earth and it's events being completely irrelevant. How could all those wars that he'd read about, all those spectacular stories in history books mean nothing? How could all the lives lived out on this planets, tangled and complicated, be worthless over all?
"But compared to me the world is really big." L smiled at the boy's troubled expression.
"Yes, that is true. I suppose anything could be large or small, useless or valued, good or evil, depending on what you compared it to. Nothing is really one or the other is it? There is a vast grey area for everything." Mail shifted in his seat restlessly. If he was this tired of sitting still already then the rest of the ride to England would be very difficult for him.
"Have you seen a lot of the world, Ryuzaki? What with you're job and all?"
"Yes, I have travelled throughout most of the globe. Why, is there anywhere in paticular you'd like to hear about?"
"What's it like in England?" The question had been on Mail's mind all day. He hoped that it would be better than his old city, but how could he be certain that things would not end up exactly the same? Perhaps the orphanage would be just as miserable as the last one, only with a harder workload. If this was the case, he knew he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. He had nowhere else to go, and L had already warned him that he may not like it at Wammy's. He had to be greatful to him simply for the offered chance.
"It is usually rainy and very green." Mail glared at this short description. "You will have to judge it for yourself."
When the plane finally landed England did prove to be very rainy. The enormous droplets of water poured down from the black clouds, splattering on the cold window of the car that Mail rested his head against. The man that had come to pick them up was old and sported a grey moustache, rectangular glasses, and a black bowler hat. He smelled of laundry and sweets and Mail liked and trusted him instantly. He had never interacted with many old people in his life since his grandparents had passed away before he was born, and he liked to imagine that this is what they would be like. L referred to the man as Watari (another foreign name that Mail had never heard before) and treated him with a warm familiarity, but Mail could not understand what their relationship was. He had never experienced the love of a father, and was unable to recognize it even when it was so clearly in front of him.
The car winded down many isolated country roads before it came to a halt outside the building clearly labelled 'Wammy's House' by a large bronze sign. Mail knew that it was time to get out but he was almost tempted to stay in the vehicle and burry himself into the leather seats. He was intimidated by the towering victorian gates surrounding the huge building, and he did not at all feel like being locked behind them. Don't be a coward now, he thought to himself, and forced his feet to move forward so he could take his bags from Watari and make his way with him and Ryuzaki up the long drive way.
He was anxious as ever when L pushed open the tall and ominous brown doors, gesturing to Mail to go inside, and felt a change in the air as soon as he stepped over the threshhold. It seemed to creep up from the hardwood floor and wrap around Mail's legs, rooting him to the spot and sending tingles all over his body. L had to gently push his shoulder just to get him moving again. This is a vey new place, he thought as he eyed the wide deserted hallways. And I think many things will happen to me here. It was a vague idea and he wondered why it had come to him. Perhaps he was simply sensing the beginning of his new life and everything that would come along with it.
Watari and L lead the way into the room that sat to the right just beside the entrance. It was a gllomy office and a weary middle aged man sat behind an oak desk littered with paperwork. He seemed to be almost as sleep deprived as L, with bags under his eyes and disheveled curly grey hair. He rested his head in his hands and jerked upwards as soon as the odd party of three entered the room.
"Ryuzaki! I didn't know you'd be arriving with the boy so soon!" He quickly cleared the stray papers off the desk, rustling them around until they were in a somewhat neat pile in the corner and only one file lay directly before him. To Mail's surprise and uneasiness, his own name was printed in capitalized and bolded letters at the top.
"Good to see you again as well, Roger. I trust that you have organized all the information I have sent?"
"Yes, yes of course everything is set. Mail here is now an official student at Wammy's House. All that's left is an alias and I'm sure that won't take long?" It sounded like more of a question than a statement what with the way he looked back and forth from L to Watari.
"Um, what's an alias?" he whispered so quietly that at first he wasn't sure if anyone had heard him. Ryuzaki reached out to the side of the room, pulling a thick book down from the shelf that was nailed to the red wall. Book of Names.
"An alias Mail, is a word or a name that you use in place of your own so as not to be identified. All the children here at Wammy's have one for they will need it in the future so that they may succeed me. We have them pick one as soon as they arrive here so that they will have plenty of time to get used to it. And now it is your turn to select yours." He handed the book to Mail who ran his fingertips lightly over the worn pages.
"Any name I want?" He asked with wonder in his voice. He was starting to understand just how clean the new slate he had been given was.
"Yes, any one you want. But I advise you to choose carefully because once you do, you must never use your real name again. It is one of the very strict rules we have here." Mail wasn't sure how comfortable he was with this, no matter how exciting getting to name himself seemed. Mail was the name his mother had given him and one of the few things he had left of the old her. Would she have been upset to know that he was going to change it? Watari seemed to notice the uncertainty that crossed his face and knelt down next to the boy. He placed his soft hand on his shoulder.
"It's alright," he said. "It won't really be a new name, merely a fake one. It isn't going to change who you are or turn you into something your not. You won't have to forget your real one." He then leaned closer and placed his mouth next to Mail's ear. "I recommend choosing one that begins with the same letter, like our great detective L over there did." He winked at Mail, whose face broke out into a smile, one of the few he had had since his parent's deaths. All Watari had done was share a small secret with him, a little hint to L's identity. But Mail felt that Watari had one of those pleasent voices that could say anything and still be comforting. He opened the book and flipped to the M section.
Matthew: Gift of God.
He wasn't sure why he picked it, because he didn't know much about God or anything, because his mother had stopped taking him to church when his father had come home, but it had a nice ring to it and it did begin with an M. He held the book up to Ryuzaki, his finger underlining the name.
"Matthew." L read outloud.
"Just Matt," Mail added as an afterthought. That way it would only be two letters away from his real name. "Please." Roger wrote the name down in brackets below the one that was already there.
"And for the next order of buisiness," began Ryuzaki. "Which room will Matt be staying in?" Roger began to fidget in his seat.
"Yes about that, could I speak with you and Watari alone for a moment on that subject?" L quirked one of his eyebrows at the question in confusion but nodded in agreement anyways.
"Alright. Do you mind waiting in the hall Matt?" Mail –or Matt as we must now call him – actually did mind very much since the dark hallway outside did not at all seem like a very nice place to wait, but he did not want to seem difficult so he slipped out of the room without a fuss. The door was shut behind him but Matt pressed his ear to the wood, curious as to why he was not allowed to hear the conversation inside. He had been raised to be an eavesdropper from listening carefully to the sound of his father's footsteps and determining whether they were angry or tired, so it wasn't paticularly hard to make the voices out.
"The only room he could share with someone in his age group is Mello. And I don't think that is a very good idea." Matt heard Roger say.
"Why not?" The soft monotone voice belonged to L.
"Because he'd terrify him obviously! You know he doesn't get along with the other children. You may have a lot of hope for him in being your heir and all. He is very intelligent, but that doesn't change the fact that he's a cold heated little bully!"
"I am afraid your dislike for children is causing you to exaggerate again, Roger. Mello is not cold hearted at all, he is actually quite emotional. His impoliteness is usually nothing more than a defense mechanism."
"I-I don't dislike children and I a-am not exaggerating! I am telling you Ryuzaki that boy has been causing trouble since the moment he got here!" Mail heard Roger exclaim.
"Please calm down Roger, there is no need to get agitated. Just because you and Mello have had your quarrels does not mean he is unable to befriend everyone. I have faith that he and Matt can get along."
"Oh really? And what makes you so sure?"
"Matt seems to be a very adaptable boy, which is unsuprising what with the situation with his parents that he lived with for so long. Mello is only disagreeable when provoked, and seeing as Matt is rather indifferent there would most likely be no cause for disagreement between them."
Matt drew his head back from the door when he heard the word so often used to describe him. He had once looked it up in a dictionary just out of curiosity.
Indifferent: Adjective: Without interest or concern; not caring; apathetic.
He had grown to loathe that word. It was so inaccurate. He did care. About everything. He cared about learning about the world around him, reading countless books. He had cared about whether his father would come home to beat him or not. He cared and wondered about whether he would ever have a real friend. And most of all, had cared about his empty mother, no matter how far away she had seemed. Why doesn't anyone see that? Just because I am 'adaptable', just because I can live with things doesn't mean I like them. And now he cared about whether he would be sharing a room with this daunting Mello character or not. Suddenly his lonely place back in The Quill Orphanage seemed very inviting. He felt he had had enough of bullies, old and young, big and small, for a lifetime.
Matt's back was still resting against the door when it opend, and he just barely stopped himself from tripping backwards into the room. He wobbled on the tips of his feet, spreading out his arms to steady himself. Watari smiled at him and handed him his suitcase and bag, which he had left inside the office.
"Ryuaki is going to take you upstairs to see your new home." Matt swallowed the lump of apprehension rising up in his throat and nodded shakily. He followed L towards the grand stair case at the end of the hall way, past all the openings leading from eitherside of it. He turned back once before setting foot on the first step, waving to Roger and Watari for he was expecting that this would be the last time he would see them for the night.
"Your room is on the second floor down the left hallway," L said the directions as they walked them. "And is the fourth door down, number 49." He finished as he knocked on the door next to the brass plate, which verified the number he said.
Matt held his breath as it swung open, wondering just who would be standing on the other side. He did not get to see however, because the person moved quickly right past him, latching onto L's waist and taking handfuls of the white shirt in small fists. Whoever it was seemed determined to keep him there.
"Ryuzaki! I didn't know you were visiting! How long are you staying? Why-''
"Shh, quiet please Mello. We don't want everyone knowing I'm here and rushing out now, do we?" The other boy nodded and stepped back from L, so Matt was finally able to get a good look at him.
He was taller than Matt and had light blonde hair, with bangs that hung just above his eyes. And those eyes were, in Matt's opinon, the most interesting part of him. The turquoise color burned brightly around the black stones of his pupils and Matt felt that the boy's gaze could burn you alive if he so wished it. When they locked with his own, warm shivers ran up and down his arms, leaving a long trail of goosebumps behind them.
"Whose he?" The quesstion was asked in a deeper, less enthusiastic tone that made Matt have the desire to run back down the stairs and lock himself in the gloomy office. He could see what Roger had meant by the word 'intimidating'.
"Mello, allow me to introduce you to the newest member of Wammy's House. This is Matt, he's the same age as you."
"Hi." Matt greeted shyly, sticking out his hand in offering of a shake. It was not accepted.
"So what's the point of me meeting him?"
"Well Mello, as you know we are a little bit short on rooms at the moment, and you have been on your own in this one for the past two years so I have decided that-''
"No!" Matt winced at the loud shout. "He is not going to stay with me! You promised me the first day I got here that I wouldn't have to share a room! You were the one that sa-''
"Mello," said L sternly. "I believe I have told you before that shouting doesn't get you anywhere. I am sorry to go back on my promise, but I simply must. Besides I think this will be good for you, and for him." L reached down and awkwardly smoothed the boy's hair back. "You know how hard it can be in the first few days." Mello looked down at the carpet on the floor and rubbed his heels on it sheepishly.
"Alright Ryuzaki. I'm sorry. I guess," he glared at Matt. "That'd be okay."
"Thank you. I will rely on you to show him around? I apologize that I am unable to stay here for a visit, but I have a case to work on. But I promise that I'll write to you of course." Mello wrapped his arms around L once more.
"Have you seen my marks, Ryuzaki? They're good aren't they? And I just learned how to speak German, did Watari tell you that? Ich werde dich vermissen." L smiled down at him and ran his hand slowly down the boys arm which made Matt feel like he was witnessing a private moment that he didn't belong in.
"I've heard about it all. You are progressing very well and I'm proud of you for it. Keep up all the hard work. Auf Wiedersehen."
It was then that it occurred to Matt that he was about to be left alone in a shadowy hallway with a boy who quite possibly hated him already.
"Well don't just stand there, idiot," Mello sighed. "Come in." He held the door open for Matt who cautiously went inside. The room was larger then the one back at The Quill Orphanage and the walls were painted a warm lemon colour. There were two dressers on either side of the room and a tall brown bunk bed that stood across from the door in front of a large window that overlooked the Wammy's grounds. Matt stood unsurely in the center of the white carpeted floor. "The top bunk and the dresser to the right are mine, so don't touch them." Matt had already decided that he wouldn't dare. "So you can put your stuff in the right one and sleep on the bottom." He made no move to help Matt carry or unpack anything, but Matt had not expected him to. It was very clear that Mello was unhappy with the situation.
"So, um, do we have school tomorrow?" Mello rolled his eyes as he climbed up to the top of the bed and plopped down on his matress.
"Of course we have school tomorrow. We have school everyday, didn't anyone tell you that?" Matt shook his head no. Noone had told him much of anything schedule wise. "Well we have it everyday in classroom 102, from 8:00am till 4:00pm. And for the classes your with everybody in your age group until you turn twelve, because that's when rankings are assigned."
"Rankings?"
"Nobody mentioned that either? Well when we turn twelve we're all given the order in which we will succeed Ryuzaki. The goal is to become the most intelligent so you can be the highest on the list. And then we all get our own specialized tutors to help us with whatever we're talented in. And I've already decided," He leaned down over the railing of the bed and stared intensely at Matt. "That I am going to win. I am going to be the first person on that list for sure." Matt believed him.
"So… what happens to the kids that don't win?" Mello swung his feet back and forth between the ladder bars.
"How should I know? I'm not going to be one. Nothing important probably. Maybe they just get regular jobs."
"Well, I guess that wouldn't be so bad. I'm not very smart anyways." Matt sighed, watching as Mello stood up on his bed to pull the string and turn off the few light bulbs that hung from the ceiling. He'd already stealthily slipped into his pajamas without him noticing. Matt pulled his out of the drawer. Little ships, he thought, tracing his fingers over the stitched boat pattern. Lost at sea. Just like me.
"You must be a bit clever, at least. Ryuzaki wouldn't have picked you otherwise." His comment held no compliments.
Matt looked up at Mello who had not moved since turning off the lights. The moonlight that filtered through the window lit up his face, making him appear ghoslty and his eyes glow stronger. A small patch of it fell onto his chest, glinting off rosary beads that Matt had not noticed before and setting the black cross ablaze with white. Mello noticed him staring and wrapped the cross up in a firm fist, protecting it. "Well… I'm going to bed. We have to get up early for breakfast you know, at 7:00. You'd better get up on your own because I won't bother with waking you. And if you snore, or sleeptalk, or anything weird like that, then this pillow," he raised it up threateningly . "Will go over your mouth. Got that?" Matt nodded. Mello burrowed into the blankets, out of sight.
I suppose this could be a lot worse, thought Matt, laying down carefully. I just have to get the hang of things, this strange place. This strange boy. He felt like the fiery blue orbs were boring into him even though he knew they were locked behind sleepy lids on the bed above him. They burn continously when he talks, no matter what he's saying. Why is that?
In the latter years, Matt's fixation with Mello's eyes would grow as he learned more and more words to describe them with. Furious, fervent, passionate. Loving. Their flames slowly began to lick their way up and to eat away the wooden shell around Matt's heart until it became softer, ashier, charred. Because for a long time, all Matt was was kindle for an unsatisfiable fire. But don't worry yourself, for Mello will not burn up our boy completley. Because before the end, without either of them realizing it at first, he would become something more.
So there you have it! I'll try to post a new chapter at least every 20 days, or shorter time length, like I have started to do. Please review, constructive criticism is always lovely :).