VIII. A Conflict of Interest

Whereas Matt rather enjoyed the high altitude and pleasing interdict that was flight, Mello found it tiresome and was none too favorable with heights. So, while his companion chose the window seat to sit next to and occasionally stare out of while he played a silent game of Mario DS, the blonde took comfort in the inside seat, chewing absently on a piece of chocolate from the many he had bought from the various boutiques in the airport.

Hours passed, in which Mello got up more than a few times to walk up and down the aisles, drawing attention from the attendants, who eventually directed him back to his seat and made sure he stayed there. Being treated like a child that needed to be looked after put a dark feeling in his gut, and he began to whisper his discontent to Matt, who was only half listening in the wake of trying to beat the castle on level four. Mello noticed this and apprehended the game for a few seconds, only to hand it back after enduring at least five minutes of pouting from the younger one.

"You're a baby, Matt," he said, rolling his eyes over to the seats across the aisle, which were occupied by an elderly Asian couple.

"And you're a jackass. We're even."

And after this, there was an all-encompassing silence, leaving Mello to sit uncomfortably again, angry eyes glaring disdainfully ahead until the plane speakers announced that there was only a minimal amount of time left before they landed. As excited as he was about getting off this godforsaken plane, he still had an important matter to attend to:

He had to tell Matt about his intentions in Japan.

It wasn't as though he would question what they had to do, but he felt that he at least should tell him that he was going to kidnap the woman he had possibly fallen in love with.

"Matt," he said, shoving the other as though he was deaf instead of distracted since he was playing his game. Disgruntled, he turned to look at Mello.

"Whadda you want?" he inquired, saving his progress and snapping the handheld shut to tuck in his pocket.

"I'm going to tell you the plans," he said, then halted, looking around. There were probably wires and cameras everywhere, concealed monitors for any suspicious activity. "In the men's room when we get off the plane."

Matt glared at him solemnly, but nodded, looking out the window for the remainder of the time as they descended. With an almighty bump and some skidding on the tarmac, they were thundering toward the Tokyo airport, slowing to a stop only when they were near enough to the doors.

With certain hurriedness, Mello brushed down the aisle, Matt struggling to keep up. He shoved through the crowd, showing little mercy to anyone who happened to be ambling along in front of them. Once, even, the blonde shoved a frightened girl holding a plastic pink backpack to the ground, earning a venomous look from her mother and a whispered warning from Matt. Soon, they had reached a none-too-populated bathroom. So much so that it even looked deserted.

"So what's your grand plan?" inquired Matt as they wheeled inside. He even took the liberty of unzipping his fly, and when he received a glower from Mello, his excuse was: "What? I need to go."

"We're kidnapping Takada," he said, deciding to be blatant in order to avoid sparing his feelings.

The redhead stared, lips turned into a slight frown.

"You know…I…"

He didn't get a chance to finish.

"What? You're going to back out? Because you love her?"

"I wasn't going to say that."

"But you were thinking it."

"Just fucking listen, Mello. Stop overreacting."

"Fine. What?"

"I still love her," he said, taking a cigarette out of his breast pocket, despite the fact that they were in a bathroom. He lit it up, taking a few gratuitous drags before turning his eyes to his partner. "I guess you don't understand that. But…it'd be unforgivable to choose her over you. I've known you longer."

Mello leaned against the tile wall.

"What if we end up having to kill her? What will you do then?"

"I love her," he repeated, looking sick and pallid under the fading fluorescent lights. "I love her."

There was a long silence, in which there was only the repugnant smell of nicotine. Mello didn't bother to act angry with the habit.

"But I love you more."

The elder one jerked his head to look at Matt, who didn't look so nonchalant at the moment. His thousands of smokes had caught up with him, apparently, because his eyes were far away and his cheeks were sunken and accented with shadows.

"Don't go all faggoty on me now, Matt," said Mello weakly, trying to make light of the situation, where the job usually would have been the gamer's.

But he had taken on Mello's usual disposition: deadly serious and dangerously angry. The redhead suddenly snatched the leather front of his companion's shirt and shoved him against the cracked wall of tile.

"I'm fucking serious!" he said. "Take me seriously, Mello, or I can't die for you. I can't take you seriously."

"Then what do you want me to do?" demanded Mello, now attempting to shove the other off. He never knew Matt was so strong until now.

And what was stranger was that Matt had no idea what he wanted, or where he was going with this. He loved Takada, but was he willing to deny Mello for her? And he respected Mello…but were his feelings for him an equivalent to those he had for Kiyomi?

"Whadda you think, Mel'?" he said, tone unexpectedly cooled.

"I think you're a crazy bastard."

"No more than you are."

"Alright, then, I think you're a crazy faggot."

"Maybe."

Matt let go, now ostensibly composed, lighting up another cigarette for the cause and turning around.

"Sure, I'll help you," he said. "But you have to tell me one thing: do you really want my help?"

Mello rolled his eyes; and he thought he was the melodramatic one.

"Matt…"

"Answer the goddamn question."

"Fine. Yes, Matt, I want your help. No, fuck that, I need it. Now are you going to stop being a melodramatic prick?"

"I guess I could try," said Matt, grinning and exiting the bathroom, clearly pleased. In fact, he remained pleased all the way up until they reached the Japanese motel that the redhead had pre-booked along with the plane tickets, and assured Mello that it was cheap and efficient. The elder begged to disagree, but eventually let the matter drop; any place to stay was better than none.

And so they got settled in, Mello going over the plans aloud as they stowed things away, which wasn't much. Eventually, he was forced to reiterate the scheme to a half-empty room and his companion, who was sprawled lazily across the bed, garish colours of the handheld dancing across the reflection in his goggles.

"Are you listening?" demanded Mello, put off by the fact that the other hadn't so much as looked at him once during his grim narrative.

Matt tossed him a probing look, then sighed and rolled into a sitting position.

"You want me to make a scene at Takada's showing by shooting off a bullet or two into the crowd, thereby drawing the attention of her guards and allowing you to make off with her with Hal's help. Then, if I'm still alive after the whole ordeal's over, I'm to meet you at the backlot of the factory near the airport that you pointed out in the taxi. Then, somehow, we're going to whisk little Miss Kira onto a plane back to New York city."

Again, his ability to listen and play games were astonishing; not to mention the fact that he talked about Takada as though she were just an object. He was damn good at concealing his feelings, a trait that Mello envied more than anything.

Maybe Near.

"You listened," said the blonde, making a point to hide the fact that he was mildly impressed.

"Amazing, no?" said Matt silkily, standing up. "I'm going out. Need anything?"

"Yeah. Take this."

Mello handed him a plastic card. "It's a firearms license, good anywhere, even here. There's a note attached to it telling what model you need. Pay careful attention and read everything I wrote, otherwise something could go wrong, and that's the last thing I need this far into things."

The gamer studied it for a minute, mentally noting that each model listed had a long title and a decent epilogue about how it was to be handled and bagged, and he wondered how suspicious he would seem running off these procedures for a Japanese man.

"How am I supposed to translate this?" he inquired, suddenly struck by a sudden realization.

"Try it on your laptop. I'm sure you could get a translation on one of those online programs."

Matt was about to point out that internet translators weren't always the most reliable, but held his tongue when he figured that he had a suitable one installed in one of his laptops. The only problem with that was figuring out which one (of the several he had felt the need to lag along with him) held that little gem of software.

It took him a good long time, but he finally found it and had the note translated into what he assumed was correct Japanese grammar. He shoved both the card and the two sheaves of paper into his back pocket and stretched, stored all of his laptops into a corner next to the bed.

"Okay, now I'm going," he remarked to the blond who was now draped across the chair that belonged to the desk in the opposite end of the room. Struck by a fleeting, suicidal urge, Matt scampered over to Mello and kissed him firmly on the lips, avoiding the punches, curses that followed him out the door of the motel.

"See ya!" he called, jogging to stay out of the other male's reach, laughing maniacally as he went.

Hell, it was always fun to mess with Mello.