Disclaimer: I down own Death Note, nor it's characters. Just this fanfiction.
Chapter One
The screen on the handhold game the read head hold in his hands flashed in fancy colors and the bright text "Game Over" popped up. Frustrated, he turned it off and tossed it at the other end of his bed.
The gangly young man stood up, running a hand through his entangled auburn hair before slowly walking towards the only window in his messy bedroom.
He rested his elbows on the wooden window sill while looking at the view. Not that you could call a dirty backyard a view.
He'd gotten the apartment for a small sum of money each month, so he wasn't in a condition to ask for more than he already had.
The striped-clad man pulled out a cigarette and lighted it before opening the window and exhaling slowly, looking at the smoke as it vanished into the air.
Then, all of a sudden, the phone rang: one, two, three times. First, Matt tried to ignore the signals – he had wanted that damn smoke for a long time by then – but realized soon that it was too annoying to easily ignore.
He sighed deeply and flicked out the newly lighted cancer stick though the window and down on the ground below after putting it out on the outer wall.
Muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "not even getting to take a fucking smoke" he made his way to the phone.
"Yeah?" he snarled into it, his somewhat good mood gone with the cigarette, and tapped his long, pale fingers impatiently against the desk while waiting for an answer.
After a while, just when he was about to hang up on whoever it was, he heard a familiar voice. A voice that he hadn't heard in years, "Matt?" it said, just loud enough for the irritated young man to catch.
At first he couldn't place the voice, and was on his way to ask the person who the hell he was, when it hit him. "M-Mello?" he whispered, his stomach suddenly felt uneasy, he wasn't sure if he dared to believe that it really was his long-lost childhood friend.
Well, not exactly childhood friend. As much as he knew, he had never been blonde's friend, even if Mello had been his.
Mello begun to talk again, slowly, his voice strained and barely a whisper, "I need you to do me a favor" he said simply, as if stating "the sky is blue".
He didn't give the read-head any chance to either say anything or trying to get what was going on. Instead, he told him that he needed a ride, quick, the address where he was at the time being, and then hung up on him.
The now very confused young man stood there a few seconds, dumbfounded, still with the phone in his hand, before writing down the address on a piece of paper, and then stomp his way towards the kitchen, where his car keys laid on the kitchen table.
What rights had he – who had just left him all alone, without either saying goodbye or explaining why, not even leaving a goddamn letter – to suddenly call him, when his life finally was in order, or at least somewhat in order, and order him around just like he had when they were younger?
That's right: none. And still, he obeyed. He got why the other kids at Wammy's called him "Mello's dog".
The striped-clad man angrily grabbed the keys off the table and ran out from his shabby apartment, because even though he was pissed, he knew that something was going on, otherwise he wouldn't have received that call. He hadn't been third at Wammy's for nothing.
Matt closed the door to his precious car with a bang. While he started the car and stepped on the throttle he took out a cigarette with the one hand he didn't use to drive and placed it between his pale lips, then lighted it and took a deep breath.
As soon as the nicotine begun to flow within his body he relaxed a bit, but that didn't hinder him from breaking the speed limit.
When he had been driving for about ten minutes – around half the time it would have taken to drive to the given address, if driving legal, the goggle-clad man discerned a pillar of dark smoke rising from the outer urban districts, just a few kilometers away.
Without thinking he sped up even more, hoping that the police wouldn't take notice of him. Without slowing down, he checked the paper where the address was written down; he looked up at the thick cloud of smoke, which just grew bigger for every second.
"Fuck", the anxious read head crumpled the piece of paper that he still hold in his hand and pursed his lips together, begging for his life that he was wrong.
When he came closer, though, his fears were confirmed: the place he had been given was somewhere close to where the dark could-like smoke came from. And since it was Mello, the chances of it being the same place were huge.
Here it is. The first chapter. In fact, I've been almost done with this for some time by now, so it'll take a long time for me to write the next chapter . I never just seem to get it right. And since I don't have a beta, I gotta read it through loads and loads of times.
However, I'd be happy if you'd review, criticize or giving me tips about how I could do it better. :D
And, I know that the chapters aren't long, but, I do my best. C: