Raito woke up, sweaty and breathless, his sleep-fogged eyes groping around in the darkness like his hands, as they searched the lamp on his nightstand to find the switch. Yellow light flooded into the room and Raito let his arm drop limply to his side, the other clutching the fabric over his heart.

Sweat was beading down his throat and collecting on the triangle of skin revealed by the wide neck of his shirt, and feeling uncomfortably hot, he undid the last few buttons that held the flimsy material together.

Tossing his shirt and covers away, Raito laid back on his mattress and closed his eyes in an attempt to fall back asleep.

He was currently aching between his legs, but apathy towards the act of masturbation made him just lie there, staring at the folds in his sheets.

Raito had nothing against touching himself, the act was easy to perform and felt good enough, but without an immediate focus -- a person to channel his desires through, a purpose to heighten the lust -- he didn't really care to improvise with himself.

However, if he was losing sleep over it, practicality said to go to the bathroom and take care of it, and for the past two weeks, that's what he'd been doing.

Though erotic dreams about girls from high school that he had fooled around with, but had not bedded, was hardly considered a "problem" in his book. It was natural. His body needed a way of venting after long periods of stress, and even if his current issues had not stemmed from sex, his body needed no excuse to assert itself under that flag.

Nocturnal fantasizing did not bother Raito in the least.

No, the real trouble began when he started dreaming about those in his immediate vicinity.

For instance, last night he had dreamt about Misa.

And tonight, he had dreamt about L.

Now Raito was perfectly aware of his dilemma here: the 'one of these things is not like the other,' and he certainly was not referring to the fact that Misa was blond.

L always stuck out like a sore thumb wherever he happened to show up and Raito's dreams were no exception. He was a bit troubled over why the detective was making those kinds of late night appearances in his head, but in hindsight, it was really nothing to fret over. L was the only person who he'd actually done it with, so those images were obviously going to be more readily available to him than with anyone else.

Raito swallowed dryly, throat feeling parched and lips slightly cracked.

Standing up from his bed, he padded over to his closet, separating one of his t-shirts from the hanger and pulling it over his head as he slipped out of his door. He realized quite belatedly that he'd forgotten to put jeans on over his boxers.

Oh well…it wasn't like he was naked or anything, and the kitchen was right there.

When he reached his destination, it was not surprisingly empty. Raito poured himself a nice, cold glass of water and finished it in one gulp. He was about to pour himself another when he heard a repetition of incongruent noises that could only be deemed as someone flipping the channel.

It was coming from down the hallway, where the sitting room was located and a television was kept.

Raito wondered who could be up this late. The children usually retired to their rooms at around ten or eleven; Roger went to sleep at nine sharp; and after inviting him into her room and yakking his ear off for a good hour, Misa had collapsed on her bed like she had narcolepsy.

The only person he could think of that he had not listed was L, and by the time Raito had realized what he was doing, he was standing by the entrance of the sitting room.

They were avoiding each other again, which was a whole lot easier than one of them actually confronting the other on that bit of weirdness that happened two weeks ago. Not that he thought he should feel guilty about the incident, even if L had suggested he was the one in the wrong. For god's sake, he didn't even know what was going on, but the detective was still so quick to get annoyed with him. Raito had a mind to tell him off for the hell of it. L seriously needed to grow up and stop acting so petulant, like a big frickin' baby.

Intent on giving him a piece of his mind, Raito stepped into the room.

He found L on the ugly grey couch situated in front of the television, sitting in more of a slouch than his usual perch and looking down at his phone resting on the cushion beside him, like he was waiting for a call any minute. His attention was on his cell, but for some reason the remote control was held stiffly in a hand and he was rapidly thumbing the button to change the channel, no end in sight.

Finally noticing that someone was standing in the doorway, L titled his head his way half-heartedly…

…and then he dropped the remote control.

It made a loud clatter and he looked down it, successively breaking eye contact with him.

Raito scowled and could not believe that L was going to ignore him when he was standing right in front of him. There was something incredibly aggravating about the detective snubbing him, and Raito did not think it stemmed from just a general dislike of disregard, but an actual event that had happened between them.

Coming out of the doorway, Raito was ready to have it out over whatever was going on.

However, L beat him to it with his own version.

"Why are you in your underwear?"

The brunette stopped and his big toe accidentally dug into carpet below, his reaction not necessarily one of irritation; he was just…thrown-off by the question.

"Why are you flipping through the channels so much?" he retorted. That had seemed like a good comeback in his head. Didn't come out so great out loud though.

L looked nonplussed. "I like the sound," he said and left it at that.

They stared at each other and no one attempted to go any farther than that.

Either this was the most awkward conversation in the history of awkward conversations, or L was trying to be funny, and by the look on his face, hilarious was not one of the adjectives he would have used to describe him at the moment.

Raito sighed and felt all the fight go out of him. "Can I sit down?"

L glanced over at his side, candy wrappers and the like littering the cushion, and the foot closest to the mess – slowly – slid over and swept it all to the floor. His foot retreated and then he looked back at Raito, as if saying "Look, clean."

Raito tried not to grimace as he brushed away the remaining rubbish and took a seat. He turned to look at L, maybe to establish that eye-contact thing (who knows) but when he did, he was surprised at how awful the detective looked. The shadows under his eyes were thicker, like it was smeared on; his skin looked clammy; and even his already untidy hair seemed to be doing its best at looking dreadful, the ends drooping, lifeless.

He looked like a sullen puppy.

A sullen, scary-looking puppy…

"I'm glad you came to see me," L started up, suddenly, and Raito had not expected those words, or anything for that matter, to come out of his mouth. "I've been meaning to…apologize for what I said the last time we spoke."

Well, this was new. "You're apologizing?" Raito asked and couldn't believe it even though he heard it with his own ears. If there was one thing about L that he could never forget, it was how absolutely stubborn and immature the detective could get. Raito assumed to get his way, to receive the apology he deserved, he would have needed to yell a little, generally be more aggressive.

But to have it served to him on a platter was kind of nice too.

"Do not sound so surprised," L said and killed the 'kind of nice' feeling he was having.

"Do you blame me?" he responded. "You walked out on me without even explaining yourself properly, and then you avoid me for as long as you can until I'm the one to approach. No one said this was going to be easy, but you're making it harder than it already is."

L tapped his fingers on his knee, his sulky expression abating. "You're right…I should have explained myself better. I know how much you despise being kept in the dark."

'And you should also know how much I despise it when people point out what I despise…' Raito crinkled his forehead at the thought and kept quiet.

"We are having communication issues because things are so very complicated between us…" he took a deep breath, "…as they were between your past self and me. He never liked me, and judging by your behavior, you do not either."

Raito lowered his eyes to his lap.

"Though your behavior is more than understandable…and since we'll be working closely together in the future, your cooperation is much more important than your feelings towards me," he said, eyes glazed over in thought. "I would not want you to be nice to me if it was insincere. Do you understand?"

Raito nodded, feeling oddly disquieted by L's hushed tone.

"I know I do not have to worry about that in concern to you, but there is one problem that I do have with you that I did not have with…him." L paused for a moment and gazed at him closely.

"You do not seem to realize how I feel about you."

Raito's brows creased together before his eyes widened, appearing to finally comprehend what L was hinting at. He looked startled and so unbearably uncomfortable that it was a wonder that the detective had the nerve to finish.

"Maybe I should not bring it up, but we will just continue to misunderstand each other in the future. At least now, you will be more thoughtful about your actions when you are around m–"

"Wait a minute," Raito interrupted, vigor returning, "You have...'feelings' for me? Where the hell did this come from."

"Well…" L began, pensively "…I believe it originated from sex, and then as we spent more time together, it kind of snowballed –"

"I didn't mean tell me!" Raito snapped. "I just don't get you. How can you say you…uh" failing to retrieve the word, he simply left it out for sheer embarrassment, "how can you say those things when you tortured me."

L gave him a sobering look. "Feelings or not, I believe you are evil-incarnate, and I will do all that I can to make you pay. I hope you can be understanding about this."

This insensitive little -- ! "Are you insane?"

"I think you should be the last person to question another's mental health."

Raito hung his head and tried to wrap his brain about this situation.

He quickly came to the conclusion that this was possibly the worst confession he had ever received in his life, and believe him, he'd gone through quite a lot during high school to know what one sounded like. Though no one had ever…insulted him partway through it. What exactly was wrong with L? If he was suggesting he…he liked him, then the last thing he should do was call him "evil-incarnate" to his face!

Raito was seriously questioning the intentions of the person next to him.

"I feel somewhat better now that I have gotten that off my chest," L admitted, interrupting his thoughts, the brooding expression he had previously worn all but gone. "Thank you, Raito-kun. It is a nice feeling to have someone to talk to this about, even if that person is the very one that causes you the trouble in the first place."

Before he could retort to the concealed insult, L's cell phone went off and he picked it up from the cushion. "I have to get this, but please do not go anywhere." The detective did not even wait for his response and began to converse with who Raito supposed was Watari on the other line.

Raito wished he could ignore them, but it was easier said than done, especially with L being so…loud.

"No."

Why would you say that?"

If you think that then you are not mistaken."

But I am in a better mood because of another reason."

You do not need to remind me – I know."

L stared up at the ceiling.

"That was different, I asked for your advice, do you see me asking now."

Raito thought that L seriously needed to work on his people skills.

"Yes..."

Yes, she has bought the story and is handling the situation quite well. Misa-san is a trooper."

Raito rolled his eyes and could not help but recall what L had fed to the blond in order to explain why he had taken her to England. It went along the lines of 'things are looking not so good in Japan right now, and even though Kira is no longer a threat, I cannot have the two who were once suspected going back to Japan. It is not safe for you, so we will be going to England now. Pack your things.'

Raito could also not help but recall the migraine that had followed that instant.

"She does not seem to have any visible problems with any of the items you purchased for her. I even asked." There was a longer pause and then, "He's getting used to things. Actually, he's sitting right next to me, and there is a good amount of space between us."

The brunette felt his eyebrow twitch.

"I did not think to ask."

That seems like something the two of you should work out on your own."

L looked down at his feet.

"What does it matter?"

He began to wiggle his toes, like he needed amusement and this would provide that.

"Well…he is gaining back the weight…" the detective had turned his head and was now staring at him brazenly, as if to confirm this, his line of sight moving down his upper leg and stopping at the knees.

"Everything looks fine to me."

What kind of inappropriate crap was L saying about him over the phone?

"So they are a little more close-fitting – that is how he usually wears his clothes."

L rubbed his head gruffly.

"Then I'll just tell Roger to get him new ones, but he is going to try and make me do it."

You know my feelings towards shopping are similar to my feelings towards injustice."

A longer pause. "Then I will get Misa-san to do it. That sounds fair."

After listening to Watari for another minute or two, L finished with an abrupt 'good night then' and switched off his phone.

He turned to him, hands depositing his cell back into his pocket. "Sorry about that, but other than the short phone call I made to him upon our arrival, I had not updated him on the superficial things."

Raito had been wondering about this ever since they had reached England but "Where is he?"

"He has family that lives in London," L answered, "two daughters actually. They are quite grown-up -- one of them is my age and the other is five years older." L was not saying anything about a wife and Raito doubted he was shy about mentioning someone's divorce.

Watari was probably a widower.

"He is also busy with collecting information for prospective cases," L added. "However, it will be some time until I can take a case and even longer until I can use my name to secure one. Everyone in the investigation team believes I'm dead. I doubt they would question anything if they heard "L" was investigating a new case and assume Watari was behind it, but I do not want to take that chance and so soon. Plus, it would be best to give the public time to realize that Kira is not coming back. That way it will not surprise them if it leaks out that I am working on another case."

"So it's going to be awhile?" Raito asked, not really knowing how to handle that news. He was now somewhat ambivalent over the whole 'working for L' thing. He did not like the idea of someone bossing him around, but at the same time, he was starting to feel awfully curious over what the detective had lined up. Now that he'd had a little time to calm down, he supposed that emotion had something to do with L being a little more reasonable today. Well, compared to his other days.

"It will be awhile," L confirmed, "But I suggest you enjoy your vacation. It is the only one I'm ever going to give you."

Raito looked him straight in the eye.

Even if he tried to be nice to the jerk, that undertaking never lasted long. "Thanks for putting it that way," he told him, sardonically, "but I doubt I'll need a vacation, as your job should be easy enough."

"You are making jokes at my expense," L stood up from the couch, "But I will look the other this time. I would rather we try to put our differences aside and get along from now on…" he paused thoughtfully before saying, "…like business partners."

Standing as well, Raito gave him a strange look.

"Do you want to shake on it?" L asked and held his hand out.

Raito looked down at the pale fingers…

…and slipped his own into the loose grasp. It immediately tightened around his hand and he squeezed back competitively. "You really bug me," and confuse me, Raito thought, wondering how exactly to react to L saying he had feelings for him, "But I think I can put up with you to a point."

"Then we are getting somewhere."

"That guy bugs me…"

"What guy? Peter. Yeah, he bugs me too."

Obviously paying more attention to his handheld than to any of his concerns, Matt's actions quickly prompted the blond to pick up a book from his desk. Mello then went onto chuck that very book at the other boy. "No," he finally grumbled out as he watched the other get pegged, "I'm talking about Kiyoshi."

Rubbing his temple, where "Classic Literature" had left its mark, the redhead picked up his portable and resumed his game, like he hadn't just been hit in the face with a flying book. He supposed he was only grateful that it hadn't been hardback. "Oh, him? What about Kiyoshi?"

Mello's forehead crinkled under the sweep of thick bangs. "You mean you don't think something weird's going on?"

The redhead shrugged, focus still split between his friend and his game. "Yeah…but weird things are always happening here. I kind of got used to it."

"You mean you just ignore it," Mello corrected as he pushed away from his study desk and climbed onto his bed, and sprawled all over the sheets. He laid still for a couple of seconds before he rolled over to his other side, arm reaching into his bedside drawer and coming away with a semi-melted bar of chocolate. He sat up, scooting to the edge of the mattress that Matt was currently using as a backrest as he sat on the floor, and began chewing pensively on the wrapper before tearing it away with small, but sharp incisors. "So you don't have an opinion about this guy."

Matt shifted on the carpet, head falling back and resting against the knee dangling off the bed that belonged to Mello. He raised his hands so he was now holding his game directly over his face. "I dig him; he seems nice enough."

Mello, who had been gnawing rather thoughtfully on an edge of his candy bar, abruptly bit into it and snapped off a large chunk. Matt felt crumbs on his forehead and brushed them away. He glanced up at the blond, who had been staring at the wall with a dazed look, black eyes more on the side of glassy green as the sun poured in through the open window across from them. He didn't look angry or even annoyed. It seemed like he only wanted to brood.

"So…is there a reason why you're asking me this?"

Mello looked down at him and gravity caused thick shoulder-length blond hair to slope forward and hang around his face. "It's only been two weeks since those two showed up and everyone's already forgotten that they're outsiders – and suspicious outsiders at that."

"I think you're being a little paranoid," Matt glanced up at him, "and you're shedding all over me," he commented and began picking blond hairs off his shirt.

"You have something I can tie it back with?" Mello asked, momentarily putting his worries aside.

"I think so…" Matt searched his wrist and came away with a rubber band. "You need a bobby-pin or something…I think I have a few in my pocket…"

"Just two," then the blond added, "Save the rest for their intentioned use."

"The only reason I walk around with bobby-pins is because my best friend has really girly hair. There's no other reason for me to carry them around other than that."

Mello did not look the least bit bothered by the redhead calling him out on the 'girly hair' thing. "If Roger actually catches you breaking into someone's room then you're not going to be able to use that excuse anymore."

"It's not an excuse. Do you want me to carry around a brush to prove it?" Matt asked as he watched the blond messily collect his hair in a ponytail and stick the pins wherever. "A hair-dryer…maybe a bottle of gel…?"

"I'll seriously piss myself laughing if I see you carrying around that stuff," the blond said and got up to go close his window. "And you got me off topic."

"Oh yeah, so what's up with the guy L hired again?"

"You don't think it's weird," Mello repeated, again blown away by Matt's skill of total indifference. "Why would L need to hire someone when he has --"

"When he has you guys," Matt finished and the blond did not look too happy about how he'd worded that.

"No," Mello clutched the material of his pants, "he's got Near…"

"Didn't L say that's it's not over until the fat lady sings?"

"That's not the point - the point is L needs to choose one of us, but for some reason he goes to some…some Ken-wannabe. I just want to know why."

"He also said he wasn't ready to make a choice."

"I know. He says that, and I believe him, but…this situation still bugs me."

"Are you worried that this guy might actually be --"

"It can't be," Mello said quickly, firmly. "If that guy was his real successor, then L would have told us. He would never give us false hope. He's not like that."

"Then what's the problem?"

"The problem is what I keep seeing." Albeit he hadn't seen L and Kiyoshi in the same room since the day he had walked in on them talking -- more like that show-off blabbing away -- about a problem that Mello very distinctly remembered on one of the exams. But even before that, L had been hanging around with that guy and giving him more attention than was normal for him to allot to one person. It had been…annoying, so Mello was really glad that L had gone back to normal.

Though normal was stretching it a bit, since for the past two weeks L had been acting a little funny.

Worrying his bottom lip, Mello wondered if he was making a mountain out a molehill again. L had given him advice about that, but it was harder to follow it than give it lip service.

"Hey, I want to go to class today," he said, sounding aggravated and not caring. He didn't feel like dealing with his thoughts right now and there was no way he could study like this.

…………………

"Hi Mello, hey Matt," a blond with pigtails and large blue eyes greeted as they entered the classroom. She was messing around with a sliding puzzle, but when not greeted in return by the grumpy blond walking past her, she turned to the redhead. "What's up with him?"

Matt shrugged. "Hey Linda, do you know where Roger is?"

"I think he left us on our own to –"

"Geez Mello," a boy protested, outraged, "I was sitting in that chair. You didn't have to shove me out of it."

"Tough luck," the blond who making all the commotion answered back, "I always sit in this spot, so unless you want me to hang you from the second floor by your shirt-tail, then you'll find another seat – and quick."

The boy shuffled in his spot, but then reluctantly gave up and moved onto another table.

"Why are you so angry?" Linda said to Mello, as she sat down in one of chairs opposite of him.

"And why are you always so nosy?" Mello countered.

Matt sat down beside Mello and switched on his handheld. It would be best to let the blond yell at someone who had the nerve to actually talk back.

"You don't have to put it that way. I was only trying to be nice," the girl pointed out. "Maybe you should talk about it. It's not good to bottle things up."

"It's also not healthy to be so nosy. You might find yourself swinging from a tree."

"I don't think you mean that," she dismissed, either bravely or foolhardily, as there was a fine line between the two at the moment. "By the way," she started up casually, like Mello hadn't threatened her, "do you think you could spare an hour? I want to practice more with portraits, but the last time I asked you, you left before I could finish."

Mello shook his head at her. "I need to study after this."

"That's okay," she reasoned. "I could observe you while you're doing it. Oh, but you can't look all stressed-out and frustrated. You have to look calm or else it'll ruin the mood that I'm going for. That's why I need you to tell me your problems now, so it won't come out on the canvas later."

Mello 'hmphed' at her, not really caring that she had ulterior motives. "You want to know what my problem is," he began, suddenly angry, "then I'll tell you exactly what it is." He slammed his hand down on the table and startled some of the children across from them. "It's that guythat walks around here like he has a stick up his ass."

It seemed like Mello thought that description suited Kiyoshi better than his name.

"You mean Kiyoshi?"

"I can't believe you could actually figured it out from that," Matt mumbled.

Linda looked like she was thinking over what Mello had said previously. "I think it's because he has great posture. I wonder if he would mind posing for me too. You think I should ask him. He's really handsome and elegant-looking, but you can tell from his face that he hasn't matured all the way, like it would if he was older." The girl took out her sketchbook and began flipping through the pages.

"Unlike Mello" she compared, "who has a doll-face but a questionable personality," Mello scowled, "that guy seems nice…but just a little haughty. I definitely want to draw that." Linda stopped on a blank sheet and looked up just in time to see who was coming through the door. "Speaking of which…"

Kiyoshi had walked into the classroom. He took a seat by the table nearest to the entrance, composed and maybe a little more blasé looking than usual. It seemed that Roger had gotten him to come sit in and watch them today. They had noticed that Kiyoshi was the polite-type that couldn't say "no" to a request from an adult.

It could be that he was a pushover, but when he was alone, when Roger or Miss Bethany were nowhere in sight, the agreeable face that he showed towards them was quick to disappear and the question of pushover was no longer valid when approaching him in the first place was so difficult.

The three of them watched him take a book from under his arm. He began to read, and not before too long, some of the smaller, less aware kids had wondered over to him. Even with that cold and equally unsociable attitude he took to them with, the majority had warmed up to him pretty fast. It wasn't like he was mean, but it wasn't like he was nice either. Mello hated that kind of fence behavior: people like that couldn't be trusted.

"I think he'll notice if you keep glaring at him like that."

Mello did not respond, but loudly pushed back his chair. "This is stupid. I can't get anything done here. I'm going back to my room." The blond walked away before Linda could comment and Matt could accompany.

Marching past the table that Kiyoshi was sitting in, Mello was not able to hold back the scowl he had for its resident.

However, instead of showing his usual unresponsiveness as he had been for the past two weeks, Kiyoshi actually…narrowed his eyes at him.

Mello stopped in his tracks

Then he turned in the direction of the table, legs now moving forward of their own accord.

Mello had always known that he had a difficult time controlling his temper. It wasn't like he went on mad rampages every day; sometimes his temper was manageable and other times it made want to start a fight.

Today was definitely going to be one of those days.

"Do you have something in your eye, because you keep squinting at me?" Mello asked, bluntly.

The expression on Kiyoshi's face was blank, but Mello could detect the faintest trace of disgust in the way he was looking at him; almost like he couldn't believe someone had the gall to speak to him in such a way. On closer inspection, he also looked kind of…tired, the small dark circles under his eyes making his pupils look lighter and glassy.

"Can I help you with something?"

Mello wondered if this guy thought he was a moron. "Do I look like I want your help? I came over here to ask you what the hell's wrong with your face."

That disgusted look was becoming more pronounced, but Kiyoshi hid it well behind a veil of put-on patience.

"Hey Mello, cut it out," another resident of the table hissed at him and Mello turned his fury on them.

"You cut it out, this guy is glaring at me and I want to know the reason behind it."

Suddenly Kiyoshi stood from his chair, causing the bickering to come to a halt.

He set his book down gently on the table, and with those long legs, he took a step towards Mello.

This guy was so much bigger than him that Mello could recognize he would be at a total disadvantage if he rushed the jerk. But odds being against him could never deter the blond. All Mello wanted was a couple of hits, being scrappy was more important than physical strength sometimes.

The brunette effortlessly stepped past him and walked out of the classroom. "Let's talk somewhere else, please," he said calmly before starting down the corridor.

'What? Too good to let anyone see you lose your temper,' Mello thought and followed the snob out to the front entrance, the brunette descending a few of the steps before graciously taking a seat. He dusted the top of his knees casually and seemed to get distracted with his hand, thumb flicking against the corner of a nail and getting out whatever supposed imperfection had lodged in the crevice.

Mello stood there, wondering what the hell this guy was doing and intending to ask that very question when --

"Be quiet," Kiyoshi interrupted and threw a wilting stare his way. "I don't appreciate some petulant brat that I don't even know jumping in my face when I've done nothing wrong. You say you don't like how I'm looking at you, well the sentiment is mutual. I don't like you either, but at least pay attention to the fact that I'm older than you and show respect where it's due."

Mello stood there, face beet red in anger, like he was about to blow up and take everything with him. "You got some nerve," he seethed, "acting like you're above me or something. I heard you're only nineteen. We're only four years apart and I definitely don't want to get lectured by some guy who thinks he's superior to me without the scores to prove it." It had never been his intention to get into this with this prissy-faced bastard, but it gave him the chance to assess where he actually stood.

"Don't kid yourself," the brunette chuckled, obviously finding what he said amusing – really amusing by the smug look on his face. He stood up from his seat, the height he had over Mello serving as another blow to his pride. "I wasn't going to bring this up because I was trying to be fair, but there's no way anyone at this institution is smarter than me. Not you, not Near, and certainly not L," he enunciated, absolutely confident about that.

Mello was seeing nothing but red and white spots as he stood there, a bull ready to charge into this idiot and give his ass a good tumble down the orphanage steps. This guy had insulted not only him, but Near and L. Now the blond normally did not like his white-haired rival, but nobody was going to indirectly insult him by calling Near a dumbass. Even worse was his outright declaration that he was…smarter than L! Who did this guy think he was?!

"Why you -- !" Mello stepped in too quickly and found a hand plastered onto his face, impeding any further movement forward. The blond batted the hand away angrily, but as he rushed forward, he suddenly came up short again. This time by an unseen force.

"It's good to see that everyone is so energetic this early in the morning." L tightened his hold on the scruff of Mello's shirt and pulled him backwards. "But I don't like it when I have to cut my breakfast short because everyone is a little too energetic." The detective turned to look at the brunette. "What exactly are you doing, Kiyoshi-kun?"

The brunette straightened and the displeased look on his face smoothed out, like wrinkles from immaculately folded laundry. "Nothing," he said, but as he brushed past L, he hissed "However, please feel free to have a word with your little prodigy over there." He promptly walked back into the building, leaving L and him on the doorstep.

'Have a word, hmm?' Well, Mello had three words for him.

"What a bitc--"

"Ah, ah," L said, cutting him off before he could finish. "No need to call back the beast, for I will be the one in trouble if that happens." The detective looked down at him, instruction in his voice. "If you must start an argument with someone, do so when they are well-rested and not moody. Otherwise, that is the result."

Mello looked up the detective, confused.

How could L take that crap from somebody who was working for him? Shouldn't he like tell him to 'eat floor' or something if he stepped out of line and started a snit with him. Why was he even defending him? "Sorry, but I can't stand that guy. You can tell Roger what I did, but I'm not going to apologize."

L tilted his head. "You're straightforwardness is commendable and I feel no need to tattle on you to Roger. In fact," L said, somewhat puffed out, "I feel proud that you are no longer going after prey, but a predator like yourself." Patting him on the head, the detective then added, "In the long run, it will make you a much better person. Though I'll discourage the physical fighting, as Kiyoshi-kun hits very hard, and I would not wish that upon anyone."

Mello really had no idea what was going on here, but if L was encouraging him to give this guy a hard time, then he would be more than happy to. Even without permission, he'd have gone for it.

Feeling suddenly emboldened by L's support, Mello asked, "Is there any truth to what he was saying earlier?"

"Pardon?" L put a hand up to his ear.

"I mean…" of course it wasn't true. There was no way in hell that he was smarter than L or even close to. But there was something else that was bothering Mello, even if Kiyoshi had never said anything about it. "…is he in the running to be your successor too?"

L gave the teen an unreadable look before he smiled and patted his on the head again.

"Sure," he answered, like he was going along with what he said.

Sure? "So he's…"

L nodded and did not give Mello the time to react, going back the way he came, the smile on his face still indecipherable. He passed Near in the doorway, the boy standing motionless except for the single finger curling in and out of his hair; he was gazing at the blond who had his back to him.

When Mello turned around and found who was in the entrance, his face immediately lost its meditative appearance, anger rushing to the forefront. "What the hell are you looking at?"

Near did not walk off like he usually did, but continued to stand there, staring at him with that hollow gaze.

"I hope you heard what L just said," the blond grumbled, taking a few challenging steps forward.

"I heard all of it," he dryly informed, and from the way he was looking at the steps where Kiyoshi had been sitting, he meant ALL of it. Knowing his luck, Near was probably the one that had told on him to L – that wuss.

"You knew, didn't you?" Mello asked, alluding to what the detective had revealed. It had become common knowledge that Near was sometimes seen in presence of the brunette, so if anyone should know what was going on, it should have been him.

Finger stopping its motions, Near let his hand fall to his side. "This is the first I've ever heard of this."

Scowling at an answer that he did not expect and feeling stupid for even asking in the first place, Mello brushed past the shorter boy in a hurry of limbs.

"I could ask him?" Near offered, unexpectedly. He had resumed playing with his hair.

Mello stopped and glared at the white-haired boy. "What's wrong with you? You're acting like you don't trust L," the blond accused and stomped down the hallway without another word.