A/N: We're going back to basics now.
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Azure Paler than the Sky.
nine.
Matt has always been a bit of a flower child. Raito took note of that the first time he met the boy and it's always been one of his defining features in the brunet's eyes. Though, really, it's not all that cute or helpful in a relationship when your partner is so laidback about the world in general. Honestly now, the country could be under attack with aliens whizzing overhead and people being beamed up to the mother ship and Matt would probably be like a tourist in Bangkok. And Raito can probably sympathize with Mello pretty damn well because they both have gotten to know Matt extensively.
For example, as much as Matt gets on Mello for his dirty habits like not wearing underwear, it's not like Matt is much better. When he gets a new game that sparks his interest and is particularly hard to beat, he will go however long it takes without a shower or bath. And sitting there in his underwear (which he apparently prides himself on), sweating Red Bulls through his pores and chain-smoking in between bites of Snickers and Twix, it's not a pleasant smell. And his socks are off, discarded on the floor by Near's and he feels great but there's just something unnerving about it to Raito.
But Matt says that Raito has faults too, and Raito agrees out of his duty as an ex-boyfriend but, really, he can't see any. Sure, maybe sometimes he's a big egotistical and maybe he would in fact flirt with a plant if it could talk and walk but, really, aren't those small things? Raito doesn't like to show his emotions when they aren't suave or cool or masking of what he really feels. He doesn't like showing how upset he is and maybe that's why Matt seemed a little offended at how well Raito took their breakup. Because there are unspoken feelings there, you know.
Raito just doesn't want to let you know.
So he doesn't.
And it's reasons like that that he is so interested in Teru Mikami. Teru just seems to understand how things are with Raito. He knows that Raito is beautiful and needs attention and adoration in order to go on normally. Teru understands that - when they are laying around in Raito's apartment, trying to goad Matsuda into leaving - Raito's bare feet, tucked underneath him on the couch cushions, are just about the most perfect things in history.
Sometimes, Raito confides smugly, he thinks that Teru would even go so far as to kiss those feet.
Yes, it has become painfully obvious to Raito Yagami that Teru Mikami is a firm believer in that all-too-often-forgotten-about religion of Raito Is God. Raito's sophisticated talk, his ever sensual swing of the hips as he walks, the perfect arch of his eyebrows.
These are things that Matt never really noticed. 'Nice ass,' was about as far as Matt got on romance. Then he would turn back to his game screen. Really, it was a bit too much, it wasn't what Raito needed. He was a modest guy, actually. He never told people that he was this wonderful and phenomenal… he just assumed they knew.
So Raito kept his thoughts to himself, mostly. Sure, there would be times every once in a while where some lava-like burst of pride would flare in his chest and he would let his attacker have what-for. But otherwise, he was content to know the limitations of others' intellect. Let them think he's just another person. If they don't understand the depth of his biting sarcasm, that's fine. If they don't appreciate the very subtle curve of his waist and other tender features, so be it. If they don't know that he could score higher on an IQ test than L if he wanted to, that was hunky-dory.
But here's the thing and it's key…
Raito was down-right pissed off when someone didn't take his work as a sculptor seriously.
Okay, maybe that only happened every once in a blue moon. And the people who didn't get his work may happen to be critics who, in their own right, are morons. But honestly, Raito's talents were limitless and the only limitations that there were had been provided by himself.
As with any artist.
And Teru saw this. He saw that Raito tried his hardest not to limit himself. To let himself be free of inhibitions, but, of course, it is not always the easiest thing, as Raito says over and over again.
Raito says to himself, It's hard. It's hard to let yourself be as free as you want to be and be unafraid of what others - people who call themselves critics - will say. It's hard to strip yourself as bare as the roses and tulips out on the Irai lawns and revel in your work as you were born to do. To act as God with huge blocks of marble and concrete and surfaces preened and primed by electric tools.
Raito has said to his students, Concentrate. Don't slack off or your work will slack off with you.
When, really, what bullshit that is. Does it even make sense? How can he believe one thing and then tell those young minds something completely different? Isn't that shirking his duties as a teacher? Screwing with adolescent minds is what L takes pride in but at least, in the end, they learn something. Whether is it good or bad, they've learned. But Raito, all he's done is turned them around and told them to chase their tails. And he just sits back and…
"-watches… fuck, what have I done to them, L?"
L glanced over at him tiredly and sighed, the fork dipping out of his mouth. "They are just fine. I lie to my students all the time and just look at how well Near and Mello are flourishing." He sat the fork down on the empty plate and looked levelly at Raito who was barely keeping in his chair. "Don't you think our parents lied to us, Raito? Just to get us by?"
"My parents didn't lie to me…"
"Of course not," L mumbled, rubbing at his temples. Really, he wasn't used to so much red wine. "Because you were so angelic and sweet as a child, they couldn't bare it. And even as a sullied adult, you are still perfect."
Raito gasped as if enlightened. "That's what I've been trying to tell everyone!"
"Back to my point. Our parents lied to us because they had to. And now look at us, we're not so bad off… we're-"
"Poor and wasted, living in dorm rooms," Raito wailed, falling over the side of the kitchen chair. Luckily, L caught him, coming out of his crouching position and held the brunet up by the underarms and sat him back in the chair. He stood at his side, watching him for a moment with a worried and yet somewhat disdainful eye. Leave it to Raito, Irai's all-time biggest flirt, to venture to Mikami's lair and get drunk only to come crawling and stumbling to L's apartment when Matsuda stormed in like Rambo on a crusade.
From what L could gather, Mikami was leaning in for a kiss after he'd gotten his student drunk enough not to care and Matsuda, who must've been eavesdropping, broke the door down. L smiled in thought. Matsuda sure did know how to make an entrance. And of course, Mikami must've been furious and Matsuda must've been fighting like a cat in water, so this lead L to believe that Raito drunkenly wandered out of the room during the scuffle. Of course, he'd managed to bring some of Mikami's wine with him.
It wasn't a problem. Heaven knows how many nights, both drunk and sober, the two had spent together when they were in college. How many nights were there that they spent in those student dorms, studying for exams, bouncing ideas off of each other and with gin or vodka between them? How many nights did Raito come, almost in tears, to L's door because what's-his-face dumped him again?
"My head hurts," Raito said, his head on the table.
"We're not poor," L said. "And if you are poor, it's because you spend your money on frivolous things."
"You spend yours on candy. You're not a responsible adult," Raito accused, squinting up at L. Squinting, maybe because the kitchenette's lights were too bright.
"… We've both had too much."
"You've had too much."
"I said we."
Raito climbed to his feet, stumbling over the legs of the chair and falling into L who caught him once again. He realized for maybe the umpteenth time in his life that this is the Raito no one sees. Like Raito had said earlier during his drunken spiel, Raito doesn't want to let it show.
"… how drunkenly clumsy you can be," L murmured and received a dirty glare for it. But Raito said nothing and walked away and into the living room area, heading back for the bedroom. L called, "Raito, where are you going?"
"I'm Yaga - aw, fuck it, I'm going to bed."
"My bed?"
"I can't hear you, L," Raito called back once he had made it into the room. L thought he could faintly hear some 'la la la la's as well but dismissed it.
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"It's Matt with the Irai noon-hour radio show! Hi-ho!"
"Mm… Lawliet, stop… stop trying to sound like Matt…"
"You are hallucinating…"
"I woke up just a while ago, actually. I slept so good because it's raining for the first time in forever. Ah, guess we should get used to the fact that it'll start becoming cold soon… I can't wait to roll around in the snow. Oh! I can bury Near and snow and we could have like a treasure hunt for him!"
"It's… the radio," Raito said as he turned over in bed and looked at the one on L's bedside table. Matt's eager voice sounded throughout the room and underneath on the clock, it read 12:03 PM. Ratio gasped loudly and rocketed up in bed, the covers flailing about him. "Lawliet, it's past noon! How did we sleep in so late?"
"We were up for a while… stop shouting."
"I've missed my morning classes."
L sighed and then sat up next to Raito, looking at him with his hair all everywhere and a groggy sort of stare. "Yes, perhaps it is about time we got a start on the day."
"Oh really?"
"And now it's time for postcards! This first one reads: Hey Matt, I've got a couple of questions for you. What kind of shampoo does Mello use? Is it better to level by grinding, or just level normally on Final Fantasy X? What's your highest score on Tetris? What's the first thing that a guest would notice about your dorm room? Have you lost The Game recently? Ah, well, that should've killed about fifteen seconds on the radio. Love the show, man! Signed, Caramell Dansen Kaze.
"First off, Mel uses Cocoa Dreampuff. Don't tell him I told ya. Now, in order… grinding, 1976, the stains on my underwear, and JUST NOW, dammit! Thanks a lot… Agh, anyway, this next one reads: Hey, Mattie! Me and my friend both like the same person and it seems that she is likin us back. Sounds half okay right? No. If her parents ever found out that she was dating a girl, they would skin her alive. I can't help but feel really really jealous everytime this other friend talks about her. And I can't help but still like her. What can I do? Signed: Confused, Lonely, Hurting.
"Well, Lonely, it's my expert opinion that you should organize a threesome behind her parents' back! I mean seriously, dude, don't let the 'rents stop true love! … Or lust. Whatever. Next postcard! Says: Dear Matt, 'K, this has been bugging me. If Mario went up against Boo in a fight to the death, and Boo had a machine gun while Mario only had a box of tampons, who would win? I mean, logically, you'd think Boo, but then there's the whole Main Character ALWAYS Beats Bad Guy law that all things fictional seem to follow. And I mean, didn't Luigi kick ass with a vacuum cleaner? Signed, C Master.
"… Dude, that's fucking sick! I love it! Fuck yeah, Mario would kick metaphoric ass. Let me school you on technique, kiddo. Tampons are totally useful in battle and it's a shame that they aren't in normal gaming artillery. They can absorb things, just like Luigi's badass vacuum sucked them up! Also, Boo would be weighted down by the machinery unlike Mario, who would have light things to toss and could plug Boo up!
"Plug it up! … Am I the only one who read Carrie? Yeah? Anyway, here's another. Reads: To Matt, how would a teacher be best placed to seduce two of his students into a threesome? Signed, Lollilicious.
"… Dude."
Raito frowned deeply at the man standing next to him as they were walking out of his apartment. "That's not funny, Lawliet, how could you write something like that?"
L waved away the comment. "It's nothing, I'm sure no one will notice."
"Right, because it was only broadcast all over the school."
"Mm."
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This isn't good, Matsuda thought as he sat in his little chair in the waiting room. Dean Wammy's office was not a place that he often visited. As a matter of fact, he had never been in here before and the feeling was horrible. Mind-numbing silence as the only sound was Misa's typing on her computer across the room. She barely even looked at him, not now and not when he had entered about twenty minutes ago.
Wammy had called him to his office to "discuss something." Matsuda had a very good idea of what he wanted to discuss and just as he was readying to root himself to the seat, there was a ringing. Matsuda yipped and Misa picked up her desk phone.
"Yes, sir? … Oh, all right." She set down the receiver and peered over the top of the desk. "Mr. Matsuda, Dean Wammy is ready to see you. Please go in now."
Matsuda gulped loudly and then nodded. He lifted himself from his chair and walked toward the door as if on his way to the plank. He knocked, hoping not to receive an answer but someone said "come in" and he did, shutting the door behind him. When he lifted his head, he gasped loudly, red in the face at seeing Mikami standing next to Wammy's desk with the old man sitting in it. There was a lonely chair out in front of the desk, meant for him.
"Please, sit," said Wammy and nodded at Matsuda.
Mikami watched him through his glasses distastefully as he walked around the chair and finally sat down, focusing nervously on Wammy. From time to time, his eyes would flicker back up to Mikami and he would give something akin to a glare.
After the unbearable silence, Matsuda spoke up, "Y-You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Yes, actually… It seems that your professor, Mikami here, would like to lodge a complaint about you-"
"But sir-"
"Now, now, let me finish. Did something happen last night?" He looked up at both men.
Matsuda opened his mouth but Mikami spoke first, "Yes. Matsuda broke into my apartment in the middle of the night and scared the living daylights out of my guest and I. He then proceeded to bang his fists on my shoulder like a deranged child."
"Hey! Just a minute, that's not what happened at all!"
"All right," Wammy sighed, "Matsuda, what is your side?"
"Well…" Matsuda looked downward and shifted in his seat. "It's… it's true that I came into Professor Mikami's apartment… but I had good reason, really! Poor Raito was being accosted in there!"
Wammy blinked. "Raito?"
Mikami frowned. "Dean, I assure you-"
"Mikami's been trying to steal Raito away from me since he got on campus, Mr. Wammy," Matsuda pleaded like a little boy, "he doesn't want us to be friends! And he's been telling Raito all these weird things… I, Touta Matsuda, do not think Raito, students in general or animals are safe around that man!"
"Dean Wammy, this is madness!" Mikami shouted, finally losing his temper. He pointed at Matsuda violently. "He simply has a schoolyard crush on Raito Yagami and is upset because he favors more sophisticated company!"
"IT'S ALL A BUNCH OF HOOEY!" Matsuda wailed, pointing back.
"Gentlemen, enough," Wammy cleared his throat heavily. He looked up at the two of them with enough sternness to cease their senseless bickering. They both calmed a bit, Matsuda a bit embarrassed for his outbursts and Mikami not saying a thing. "Now," Wammy continued, "as for you, Matsuda, do not break into anyone's dorm again, especially a respected teacher. If you feel there is something wrong, alert another professor."
Mikami nodded in satisfaction.
"As for you, Professor, do not place students in your room after hours. Things like that will cause controversy. And also, do not interfere with Matsuda's schoolyard crush; he may pursue whom he wishes."
Matsuda smiled. "Yay! … Wait, it's not a crush!"
Mikami turned his head to the side and rolled his eyes.
"Thank you both for coming, you may leave now. Have a nice day." He waved them out as they left and Misa came into the room after them, shutting the door behind her.
She said, "Sir, do you have the twenty dollars?"
"Oh, yes, I do," he hummed, nodding and reaching into his back pocket. He leaned over the desk and gave the bill to her and she tucked it inside her pocket. "Well, that's everyone. How exciting to be placing bets! I hope I'll win a lot of money."
"Now now, don't broadcast that type of thing all over the school." Wammy coughed behind his hand. "Making wagers on an ex-professor's love life is not smiled upon."
"Yeah… but it sure is interesting, isn't it? Team Matsu all the way!"
"Indeed."
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L stared groggily at his two students as they stood in front of him as the sun went down in the windows behind them. L thought blandly, Where did the day go?
"I knew it, L! You've got the hots for us! You perv, announcing it on Matt's show like that." Mello carefully hid his delight with a disgusted expression. He'd been bragging since L called them up to the studio for another night's work. Near had stood by Mello's side the entire time and blushed away from L whenever he looked at him.
L rolled his eyes. "Mello, that was a simple joke."
"Jokes show your true feelings."
"You've had too much chocolate."
"Whatever." Mello raised the chocolate bar, given to him by L, to his lips and snapped off a piece. "So, what's the deal? Have we reached a conclusion on Near yet?"
Near raised his head. "I never really agreed to model…"
"You agreed when you said you'd help me, Near."
"L, are you all right?"
"I'm tired."
"Yeah, what's the matter? Those bags of yours are even bigger than normal."
"Thank you, Mello."
"Just saying."
L cleared his throat. "Before I make a decision, I would like to experiment with Near's body more. It's different than others that I've worked with…" He paused and looked over at Near who stood still, his eyes just barely visible through his thick bangs. The lightest shade of pink covered his cheeks and L stared until Mello stepped into his line of view with his arms crossed over his chest.
"He's not posing naked. Forget it."
After a pause, L smirked at the blond. "Isn't that his choice?"
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to be continued.
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A/N: Keep sending in postcards, Matt appreciates variety. Review?