Phew! Well, this came to me...uh, recently? Yeah. I didn't feel like delving into the Wammy kids' past lives, because I knew I'd screw something up. But hey, know what the great thing about having a seven-year-old narrate a story? You can get away with telling it like a thirteen year old!

Meh, anyway...this is somewhat filler-ish, half flashback, half...er, not-flashback.

As always, review!

The whole thing was one big, grey blur to me.

I didn't remember much, just the fact that I was running away from someone, scared, screaming, about to wet my pants...the man was mad because I stole his gun.

I hid behind the trash cans as long as I could, until I heard the all-too-familiar bang of gunfire. The man was dead.

I peeked out for a better look. Someone, wearing all black and a mask hiding their face, turned to me. I did the first thing that came to instinct - I pulled out my gun and pointed it at him.

The stranger just chuckled. "Easy now," he said. "That man can't hurt you anymore. You're safe now,"

I still aimed the gun, tears streaming down my face. I was so tired, shaking, that I dropped it. I fell over, ready to pass out, but one thought still stuck in my brain: The stranger had just saved my life.

When I finally woke up, I was in an orphanage. Wammy's House, it was called. Everyone was looking at me, asking who I was, this little kid who had pulled a gun on the stranger - Quillish Wammy.

I spoke to no one. I trusted no one.

I sat hunched over in a corner, feeling like a trapped animal. I didn't want to play with the other kids, and I wanted to be left alone.

"Hey," I heard a kid's voice call. He put his hand on my shoulder, and I flinched.

"So, I hear you pulled a gun on Mr. Wammy,"

I didn't say anything, only looked at him.

This kid was about thirteen, with messy black hair and big black eyes with dark circles under them. I didn't want him around, so I just glared at him.

"Come on now, it's okay. You're safe now, you know that?"

The words rang back - You're safe now. The same thing the man Mr. Wammy had said. But still, I just kept glaring. He was too close.

"What's your name?"

"It's...Mihael Keehl," I muttered. I slinked back into the corner more.

"I'm L," he offered his hand for me to shake. I wouldn't take it. He frowned.

He reached for something in his back pocket, and I flinched. It was a shiny silver rectangle.

"Here," he said, peeling back the silver wrapper to reveal a brown set of little rectangles. "Try this,"

I stared. "It's chocolate," he said. "You've never had it before?"

I shook my head. He offered it to me, and I took it.

"Come on, it's good,"

I took a bite. It was good...creamy, sweet, melting in my mouth...I couldn't help grinning just tasting it. I giggled.

"I told you it was good,"

"Heh, yeah," I said.

"I hope you like it here at Wammy's House, Mihael,"

"Mm-hm," I said, gobbling up the rest of the chocolate.

From that day, it was a new life for me. Among the other orphans, I was "the kid who pulled a gun on Mr. Wammy," and I guess it sounded really cool, so they thought I was like Batman or Sean Connery or something. If they'd actually seen me, shaking, whimpering, crying like a little girl, they might not think I was all that great. But hey, maybe it was still pretty cool.

Second, I had found an addiction; two, actually. There was, first of all, chocolate. I couldn't think of anything like it, really...but something about the way the taste would wrap around my tongue and make my mouth water, it was one of the only things that made me smile. Of course, I was told I had to eat other things too, and I did, but I always looked forward to...that.

There was another one though. Out of all the kids in the orphanage, the one who I talked to, who I trusted, who I liked, was L. Okay, maybe it wasn't L that was the addiction...or it was, I think. He was the greatest, and the world's best detective, able to solve any case he took on, all without ever showing his face. And what the world didn't know, was that he was only thirteen - old to me, but not enough to be a grown-up. When you did that, who cares about a kid who can point a gun at a stranger?

But it was more than that. Now, I was an orphan, I had no parents, no siblings, no family. Some of the kids said that because we all lived together, we were all like "family," but I never believed that. No, I never used "family" as a word for many people, it was too...big. L was the first person I called "family" since I'd come to Wammy's House.

And then, I found out that us kids were made to be in line for L's place; if he died someday, one of us would take his place, and that person would be the next L. It was a race. I knew I couldn't ever be L, but I could still be more L than anyone else here. I knew, because I had the highest scores, so high that no one could beat them; I knew, because the others always said, that I would be the next L; and I knew, because L said so.

I couldn't be L, but I would be close. And a part of me hated that I'd only be 'close enough,' never the same thing. So I always fought, worked to get to the best, hoping that maybe, one day I'd get there.

This was my real addiction.

I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes from sleepyness - it was that time of night that you knew was after midnight, but you didn't want to look at the clock to find out. There was an odd glow coming from the floor...

It was Mail.

"Nnn..." I moaned. "Jeevas, do you really have to be at it right now?"

He jumped at the sound of my voice, and looked up at me. The Gameboy's light reflected off his goggles.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"It's just...you know we're having classes tomorrow, and there's no way I'm dragging you out of bed,"

"I'll be fine," he said. Yeah right, I thought. I'd only been around him for a week, but two things were certain with him; first, he knew how to sleep. He literally could sleep anywhere, at anytime. He could do it on command if he wanted to. And second, he did not wake up easily. Mail hated mornings.

"Is it really worth it, Mail?" I said, looking at the ceiling.

"Yes,"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really," he started crazily shifting his thumbs at the game, tilting it sideways and all that. I think I saw him break into a manic smile too. "I'm at the last level,"

I yawned. There was something we had in common - that one thing we just had to be with. Though honestly, I said chocolate was my "addiction," but I wouldn't really say I was an addict, like with a drug... I mean, I could be without it if I had to, but this guy...he was just plain nuts!

"Go to bed,"

"Almost,"

"Now,"

"Just a little more..."

"Fine!"

"OH YEAH! PWND!" he jumped up and rolled on the floor laughing. "Yes! Finally!"

"Go to bed!" I hollered from over my bunk.

"Heh-heh, yeah," he continued cracking up. "Oh wow, I think I was so excited, I just peed,"

"What?"

"Just kidding,"

"Mail! Get in bed, now!" I banged my head against the ceiling.

"Ha-ha, okay, okay," he said, finally settling down. He took off his goggles and flung them across the room. He had little rings around his big green eyes where the goggles were - I always knew he had those things on too tight. "'Night Mells,"

I sighed. "Night Mail," I said.

And finally, I think I finally figured out what it was about him, that I couldn't name earlier; he was cute. You know, like a puppy you get from the shelter who thought of ripping up your pillows and eating your shoes. Yeah, you still kicked the crap out of that thing, but then later on he came back and you're not mad anymore cause he's got big brown eyes and wants to play. Yeah, Mail Jeevas was kind of like that.

But he still annoyed me, and this I couldn't figure out. Was it his 'leave me alone I'm gaming' deal, or his 'go with the flow sure-I'll-sleep-on-the-floor-and-wait-in-the-closet' attitude he kept that set me off. I thought that's what made him easy to tolerate.

After all, he was just a kid who wanted to be left alone to his games, not bothered by anyone else...

It hit me.

This kid, compliant, shy, distant...I knew where I'd seen it before.

He was just like Near.

Or not quite like Near, but he definitely made me think of him. That's what pissed me off so much.

Now that I knew what it was that I hated about him, I knew I'd have to fix it. Or change it. Or kill him.

And there it was; my new addiction.

And there it is for you...oh how I love going into detail about Mello's chocolate addiction. Funny how I felt like I had to be eating chocolate because it would...help "inspire" me.

Well, as far as I see it, the way the first half of this chapter was done is either gonna be really intense, or really cannot-take-seriously funny. You know, like "narm". It's just because Mello's such an over-the-top character, he's so dramatic that sometimes, he has moments where it's just plain funny. It's okay for me either way, but I hope the flashback at least didn't come out narmy...

I always pictured Matt as not being a morning person. :X He's in for another round of Matt-abuse from Mello, sadly...

Matt: Wait what?
Mello: I get to let out my frustration on him?
Near: My head still hurts!

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