A/N: Ah, thank you all for your kind support. Hopefully, you'll enjoy.
-
Escort to Happiness.
Two.
-
The thought of burying his best friend when the summer winds blew the grass this way and that never really occurred to Mello. He looked up at the trees that provided slight shade to the cemetery beneath them and the sun was hiding somewhere above, sending little speckles of light down onto Mello's pallid face. It was beyond surreal and he didn't even feel like Matt was in that coffin at his feet.
Surely, Matt was somewhere with a cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth, maybe at a street corner, waiting for the light to change. He was probably somewhere walking with that arrogant swagger in his step like he was God's gift to the world. Off somewhere, refusing to work and thinking about Mello with a grin on his face, laughing about the way he frowned. Thinking he'd truly gotten to him.
This was probably true.
And Mello had no reason to think Matt really was dead. The wake had been closed-casket, after all, but that was probably because there was no need to show Matt's weeping mother her baby boy all mangled like that. Mello thought this with slight agitation. Sure, no need to show his weeping mother… but what about his roommate? The same roommate who had watched over Matt's crazy ass and had gotten into street fights with him when need be? Who had gotten him an interview at the flower shop?
Mello sighed and placed his hands inside the pockets of his trousers. He felt most uncomfortable in the suit and thought maybe Matt wouldn't have wanted anyone in a suit at his funeral. If it had really been up to him, he would have told everyone to come naked as the day they were born and Matt would have never excluded his mother which really said something.
"Oh… M-Matt," she wept and wept beside Mello and he was really getting pissed off. If she kept this up much longer, she might trigger some sort of chain reaction and make him cry.
And that just wouldn't be good.
Mello sighed audibly and kicked at a leaf on the ground. There was no one else there besides the two of them and the preacher, who was currently leaving after Matt had been soundly delivered to the ground. Mello watched his retreating form through the fields and thought maybe he had a dead body calling to him and he ran to answer that call. The whole thing seemed immensely creepy but it was probably a necessary evil. Couldn't have dead bodies just lay around like that.
Mello figured it was about time for him to get going too, though. He looked at the older woman who was wrapped up in black garments - her bonnet, her dress and stockings and her gray hair pulled tight into a bun. Mello walked up to her and she didn't take much notice, face covered in tears as it was.
He had to find something to say.
"Um. Hey, you know…" and it sort of stopped there.
She didn't take any noticed - only cried and sobbed into her hands for the death of her only son. Matt had told Mello once that he was one boy out of a litter of seven girls. Mello looked at the old woman now and thought about what an active life she must've had, chasing around all those kids. Without the wisdom to console her, Mello turned on his heel and skulked his way through the fields, as the preacher had, and left the woman with the ghost of her son.
-
It was a Sunday afternoon and, for once, it wasn't so blazing outside. The wind blew the canvas material on the green and white striped umbrellas that were attached to each outdoors table at the local Marble Slab Creamery. The building itself was sandwiched between other shops and businesses that lined the street and Raito calmly watched the people walking by his and L's table with a small spoon hanging out of his mouth. He sighed, the fifth time in the past few minutes, and looked over to find L staring at his ice cream.
"… You know," Raito said, putting on a smile, "that would taste a lot better if it were in your mouth."
"Yes," L murmured, not paying Raito much attention.
This was certainly a new thing for Raito. Ever since they had that accident a week ago, L was almost like a zombie, which complemented his appearance really, but was just so unlike him. He hadn't teased Raito, gotten on his nerves, and hadn't even asked to go out for ice cream. This was a desperate effort from Raito to cheer him up and it didn't seem to be working even with the (now melting) large strawberry ice cream with cookie dough and gummy bears Raito had purchased for him.
He cleared his throat and managed to get the man's attention. "Hey, L, come on now… I thought maybe if I gave you something sweet, you'd get on some kind of sugar rush. That maybe you'd get back to your old self but-"
"Raito, I feel I must tell you that I've never had a sugar rush once in my life."
"… Really?"
"Really."
"That's a little worrying, L."
L sighed and looked away towards the street, dipping the small spoon back into his bowl of ice cream. "I apologize, Raito. But I haven't been able to think of anything other than that young man. I've never had an accident before."
Raito nodded. "I know, L, it's okay. I understand. I'm still a little shaken about the whole thing. But… you know, even the police officer told you it wasn't your fault. He ran right out into the middle of the road. He was obviously very disturbed."
"I'm not talking about that young man."
"… you hit another one?"
"No," L grunted and spared the brunet a glance. "The blond. The boy that ran out when his friend was hit and tried to slap him back to consciousness. For some reason, I see it all the time, the way he screamed. He barely took note of us at all."
"Oh. Yeah, that was a little depraved."
"You don't understand," L mumbled, "I'm responsible for the death of that boy's friend. He's alone now."
"You don't know that. He… he could have dozens-"
"One friend is worth a million. I would be devastated if I lost you," L said, gaze settling on the table.
Raito blinked widely, eyebrows tented. "Aw, L, that's so-"
"Wait, look," L whispered, waving his hand in Raito's face to shush whatever mushy things would come out. He then pointed just over Raito's shoulder towards the street corner and Raito turned to see what all the fuss was about. Across the street was a young man, a blond in maybe his early twenties, standing by the light post and waiting on the signs to change. He was dressed in a black suit and tie, much too formal for just walking around town. Raito squinted in the midday sun and saw the scar on the side of the man's face, the same one from the day of the car crash.
"Wow, it's him," Raito hummed. He studied the suit and said, "He must've just gotten back from the funeral, I guess…"
"Yes."
"Hey, L, why didn't you go to the funeral? To, I guess, absolve some guilt?" Raito mused, somewhat to himself, and turned back around when he heard the grating of L's metal chair against the concrete. He had stood, hands planted on the table, watching as the young man crossed the street. "L, what're you-"
"I'm going to follow him," L said, scooting the chair back under the table. He picked up his big bowl of ice cream, which was now mostly soup, and nodded at Raito. "Let's go."
"… excuse me, what? You can't just decide to follow someone - L! L, come back here!" Raito stood up and ran after his co-worker. He had to bob and weave through the other pedestrians and finally found L, placing a hand on his shoulder like a leash. "L," he whispered harshly, "what are you doing?"
L stopped at the crosswalk and continued when the signs changed. "I'm crossing the street with you, Raito." He slurped some of the strawberry-gummy bear mixture.
Raito noticed he was eating and was slightly glad for that. He sighed and released L's shoulder from his grip. "L, can't we just sit down somewhere and talk about this rationally?"
"I'm not being irrational. You may sit somewhere if you please."
"There's no way I'm letting you out of my sight!"
"That's your choice."
Raito groaned and stayed by L's side, noticing that they were on the opposite side of the street as the blond young man. He hadn't noticed them and Raito hoped it stayed that way - he really wasn't interested in pulling L's behind out of a fight with some emotionally unstable youth. They crossed the street again when the young man turned the corner and was out of sight.
"L, don't you feel… I don't know, creepy?"
"No."
… I guess that was the wrong question… Raito thought, frowning to himself. He tried again with a different approach. "L, I know how you feel… this whole thing's been on my mind for the past week too, but… shouldn't we just leave the kid alone? He's been through enough, I think. I don't think he'd want us following him."
"You're right," L said, eyes set ahead. "If someone killed my friend, I surely would not want to talk to them. But I don't intend on making small-talk. Don't you remember the look on his face when he was holding his dying friend?"
"Jesus, L," Raito hissed under his breath, looking about them to see if anyone had heard what L was saying. "Do you think you could keep your voice down?"
However, it didn't seem that L was listening and he continued to follow the bobbing head of blond hair somewhere in the distant crowds. As one block turned to two and then to three and four, Raito seriously gave consideration to abandoning L and going home to catch the rest of Judge Judy. This was just getting too ridiculous - following some kid all around the city and for what?
"L, I'm going to go home," Raito threatened, still walking alongside the slightly hunched-over man. "I mean it!"
"I understand. And I apologize for ruining our date but I have to do this."
"It was not a date," Raito shouted, red in the face. Apparently, L was feeling much better, as he had tossed that empty plastic bowl away blocks ago and was now succeeding in getting under Raito's skin. Attempting to compose himself, Raito shook the hair out of his eyes and continued with L without comment.
-
The only thing that was going through Mello's mind as he ascended the stairs of his apartment building was getting that damned suit off. It was itchy, having been up in the closet for too long, and it was just too hot for this kind of mess. He reached the third floor and dug his keys out of his back pocket, opening the door to his own little world. He walked in and started taking the jacket off, throwing it on the recliner in the middle of the room. If possible, it was even hotter inside than it was outside.
He pulled at his tie and then began work on the buttons of his white shirt underneath. Garment after garment, he pulled everything off as if the entire outfit was acidic and threw it all over the chair, surveying the place when he was finally standing in nothing but a pair of black socks. His breathing was labored as he inhaled the stale smell of old smoke throughout the room.
The source of it was coming from the unstable old coffee table in the middle of the room and Mello glared at the ashtray sitting on it. It was glass, made in the shape of a four-leaf clover and Matt used to say it brought luck to the place.
Mello looked around and, upon remembering that Matt was now six feet under, he thought grimly, Guess that shot the whole luck thing out of the water… He taped his foot on the ground and thought maybe he should do something to occupy himself - maybe watch some daytime TV to calm himself. He nodded as if that was a good idea and walked over to the television over in the corner that sat on the bare floor and turned it on.
The screen came alive with fuzz and Mello turned the channels manually, looking through all the static.
"Don't leave me! Come back-"
Click.
"Oh God, Taro, harder, fas-"
Click.
"You've won FIVE THOUSAND DOLLAR-"
Click.
"When a tortoise engages in coitus-"
Mello shut off the television. There was never anything on this time of day anyway. He stood up, and opened the window for a little breeze, ignoring the fact that he was completely nude, thinking no one could see him from the third floor. He stood there for a moment and turned to his side, trying to think of anything to do, just anything to occupy him for a little while. Maybe a nap. No, then he wouldn't be able to sleep at night. Maybe… maybe some food.
Mello turned around for the small, dirty kitchenette at the side of the living room. He only took three or four steps before whirling around and grabbing the glass ashtray from the table. He stomped back over to the window and in one blast of fury, threw the thing to the street below and shouted, voice tear-logged, "I HATE YOU, MATT!"
-
"Good God!" Raito shouted, jumping backwards as a glass knickknack came hurdling towards the earth. L had moved back a few feet and everyone else on the street ran for cover when the glass shattered on contact and shards flew everywhere. Everyone looked up at the window and the half-naked blond hanging out of it, shouting.
A random by-passer shouted up at him, "You loon!" and in a moment the window slammed shut. People muttered to themselves and each other but walked by quickly, not wanting anything to be thrown and hit them.
Raito walked slowly into the pile of glass glittering in the sun, looking up at the window cautiously as he made his way to L. "He's insane, L…"
"He is mourning his friend."
"He threw an ashtray out the window!"
L nodded and raised a thumb to his lips. "Obviously, they meant a lot to each other."
"Oh, really? Would you throw an ashtray for me? No, wait, don't answer that. L, what are we doing here?"
There was a pause and L seemed to be considering. Finally, he took his thumb away from his mouth and said, looking up at the window, "I guess I want to help him. I hate owing someone something and, if you think about it, I owe him a life. I want to make him happy."
Raito raised a questionable eyebrow in L's direction and sighed, shaking his head. "You know, you still owe me five bucks…"
-
To be continued.
-
A/N: Thoughts, comments? Hit me.