_-Chapter III-_

_-Among These Ashes-_

I hadn't paid enough attention to that conversation in Mr Wammy's office, though it remained with me for years, at the back of my mind, a shadow within shadows. Despite my superior intelligence, I really had been a clueless child back then. I took the experience as a test and nothing more. I had no clue I had just narrated my own story.

Now, though, with that name thrown back at me by one as detestable as Snyder, I began to realize what a horrible tragedy I really was.

Russian, Snyder had said. Mihael. What were the odds of this being the same Mihael as that of the case of the missing child of that murdered Russian couple nearly twelve years ago? I refused to believe any of it. I tried reasoning with myself: there are thousands of Mihaels. It's a common Russian name. But still, the fact that Mr Wammy and Roger had me solve that case made me wonder: was there more to that test than just to measure how far I'd progressed? Did they keep me from the truth they'd discovered about me to protect me from myself?

That was very, very likely, now I ache to think of it.

Chief Yagami flipped open the Notebook of Death and scribbled furiously. "I've written your first name down," he said, his eyes glinting menacingly. "All that's left is to write your family name. It'll be over in seconds."

My family name. I had lost my smirk. Mihael Kheel. There was no denying it now. That is my name; death god eyes don't lie. I knew right then that he had made the deal for the eyes. It was just like what Snyder said.

I'm Mihael Kheel. I'm that lost boy born of tragedy all those years ago, living a lie—

No.

I'm Mello. I've always been Mello. It's like what Roger had said to me long ago: Mihael is dead. He is no more. He died the day Mello was born, died the day his parents were killed, murdered.

Suddenly, I felt a great emptiness open up within me. It was so intense I almost set the bomb off right then. But I didn't have time to be lost; I couldn't feel so disoriented when in the middle of life-threatening situations. I tried convincing myself: it doesn't matter. Your past doesn't matter. What matters is now. Surviving now and winning for the future. That's what it has been like all along. Mihael is dead; he doesn't matter.

Things happened quickly after that. I managed to keep half my mind to get out alive, but just barely. The half of my mind that was still functioning decided to set the bomb off.

Horrific moments later, I lay sprawled out on the ground, badly burnt and dying, not far from the remains of the devastated hideout. Every nerve felt like it was on fire. I was blinded in my left eye. I could hear what's left of the Japanese task force picking themselves off the ruins and begin moving out, calling for backup and looking out for me.

I have to get out of here.

Fumbling, half-conscious and already blacking out, I crawled over and pulled out a cell phone from the pocket of a dead mafia member. I think it was Snyder; I couldn't really see. Everything was a blur of smoke and pain. Dazed beyond consciousness, I started hitting the buttons furiously for someone, anyone. I couldn't think. I was acting on reflex, punching in the number of the only person I bothered keeping contact with, the only number that surfaced to my dimming consciousness. I hit the dial button. After a series of rings, it picked up.

"Who the hell is this?" a muffled voice asked.

"Help me," I whispered.

"Okay, really, is this a crank call? I can track this number down and beat you up, you know?" the voice said.

"Damn you, Doormat," I managed to breathe, my voice trembling with pain. As I finally blacked out and the cell fell from my hand, I didn't hear the voice reply: "Holy… Mello, is that you? Where are you? Mello? Answer, dammit! Oh god. Uh, hold on. I'm tracking you right now."