Okay. I'll put this chapter up too, then wait and see if anyone even wants to read more x33 If not, I'll find somethin' else to do :3

'Tis all.

Oh, and sorry for mistakes. I only went over it roughly. And I'm bad at checking stuff I've written....

Love, kyo

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I made a pact with myself. The person in room 46 was my enemy, second only to Near. The person in room 46 was trying to stop my goal from being achieved. But I did have to control myself, at least to the point that I didn't punch him. But that didn't mean I was gonna make friends.

With it all settled in my mind, I unlocked the door and walked in, ready to defend myself. But the boy didn't even glance up at me. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor - right in front of a freaking couch - with a PS3 controller in his hands and some sort of epic-looking battle-to-the-death on the TV screen. His crimson hair was hanging in his face making it so it would have been hard to see his eyes, if those weren't covered by orange-tinted goggles. Yeah, right? What goggles? He was wearing a baggy black and white striped shirt that made my eyes hurt and grey-blue skinny jeans that had horizontal stripes, too. An open, half-eaten bag of potato chips - along with another empty one, crumpled up into a ball - three boxes of pokey - a strawberry one eaten and discarded along with another strawberry and one chocolate open - three empty soda cans and two empty cups of ramen. I couldn't help the grimace that found my face. He was such a geek, and did he live off of junk food or what?

I cleared my throat loudly. "Hel~lo?" I waved my hand in front of his face. He didn't move, staying focused on his graphic, bloody game that seemed to involve zombies... or Nazis... zombie Nazis? "I'M YOUR NEW ROOMMATE." I stated loudly. He nodded his head slightly. At least I knew he was alive - his fingers flying across the buttons of his controller being the only movement in his body. "MY NAME IS-" I tried.

"Mello." He finished. "I'm not stupid, don't treat my like a retard." His tone held no malice, but he totally pissed me off.

"Video games rot your brain." I bit.

He played one-handed long enough to grab a chip. "I've done just fine." He answered, before eating so he could use his hand fo the game again.

"Ugh, this place is discusting." I huffed. "How long have you been living alone here?"

"A few weeks."

"Are you new?" I blinked.

"Roommate's gone."

"Couldn't stand your living habits so he moved out?" I guessed.

"Stress." He muttered, his hand frantically searching for the pocky box while his eyes stayed glued to the screen. I humoured him for the sake of hearing the rest of the story and used my foot to nudge the chocolate pocky box into his hand. He grabbed one like one would a cigarette and put it between his lips. "Thanks," he offered, before a sudden seriousness overcame him and his hand flew back to the controller. A second of buttons clicking turning to guns shooting later and whatever he was fighting died with a scream.

"Stress?" I urged.

"Oh, he was 4th. Kousuke or something, I think." He muttered, his eyes still fixed on the screen. I was beginning to think he may never move out of that position - except maybe to change the game. "He got totally stressed out over becoming the next L and whatever." He just said "and whatever," didn't he? Wasn't it a big deal? Our life goal? "Said he was doing some research on stuff about L. On previous cases that he solved, all the things he did, right up to the Kira case. How one day that would be expected from one of us. All that work. All that success. Sleepless nights, sacrifices for the good of the world. How failing wasn't an option. And, okay, he never said all that to me out loud. But you could see he was thinking it. In his eyes and the way he held himself. He was falling apart just thinkin'about being L." He explained, munching on the pocky. "He was walking down the wrong path, thinking too much." He set down the controller since he had, I guess, beaten the game or at least the level. "Till one day," he held his fingers to his head like a gun, "bang. And he was done." He finished. "Stress free."

"Suicide?! I never heard of it!"

"Un. Watari tried to brush it under the rug and all. Kousuke only had a few close friends, anyway. He was already 18, so they just said someone made a job offering and he took it. Nothing out of the usual."

"So how do you know he did it?" I huffed.

"Outside sources. 'Sides, if you saw him in those last few days, you could put the pieces together."

"Almost everyone goes through a little panic attack about that stuff at some point. Doesn't mean he killed himself." I rolled my eyes.

"Trust me, he did. Outside sources told me so."

"Bullshit, "outside sources!" No one has "outside sources" from Wammy's. You're making it all up!" I accused.

"Whatever you wanna think." He allowed. The worst part was that I knew, deep down, I believed his story. And I knew that he could tell I believed it, too. I could see a bit of Kousuke in me. In Near, too. In all of us, there was a bit of ourself that begged us to stop it before it snowballed until it was too much for us to handle. But there was also his non-chalance. Like he was the exception. Like the thoughts had never once crossed his mind, or even if they had, he had never taken them seriously. The annoying little geek. "It's nice to have a roommate again, though." He smiled at me, taking me by surprise. "I get sorta reclusive, so the only contact with people I'll have for weeks at a time would be my roommate."

"So what, you lock yourself up and live off junk food?" I frowned, even though he was still smiling. "What about classes?"

He shrugged it off. "I just skip classes for a while."

"What?! I heard you were 3ird!"

He looked up at me from the floor, with his eyes distorted by the goggles. After a pause, he answered, "seriously?"

I couldn't believe him. It had to be a trick. No one could be 3ird in Wammy's without even trying, without putting some effort forth. God knows I work day and night to keep my position - or better - and even Near works. Well, granted, that's more of a he's-so-anti-social-he-has-nothing-better-to-do-than-study thing, but still, study he does. "How much do you study? I mean, when you skip classes, you dedicate some time to studying, right?" I tried. He frowned a little.

"What's the point of studying when you skip class? Then you might as well just go to the damn class."

"So, what, you just," I started.

"Enjoy myself a bit. Video games, snacks galore, and if I'm sure Roger's not lurking around I can sneak a smoke."

I grimaced. "No. No, that's gonna stop. There's gonna be no more of that." I ordered. He cocked his head. "Smoking." I clarified.

He jumped to his feet, officially tweaked. "Fuck you, you can't tell me not to smoke! Like hell I'll listen to you!" He growled.

"You will listen to me. I'm your roommate and I'm the boss." I snickered.

"Fuck that, who says so? What are you, a five-year-old?!"

"I'm boss 'cause I'm older. And taller." I informed.

"I ain't taking orders from a fucking transvestite!" He snapped.

"Why you little shit!!"

Before my brain could remind me how stupid I was, I had already hit him. Unlike passive-aggressive Near, though, Matt hit back. Harder than he looked like he could. What kind of geek can actually fight? Of course, once he hit me, I wasn't going to let it end like that, so in no time we were in a full blown fist fight until the brat went and drop kicked me so I hit the floor with a thud. "Learned that from Mortal Combat." He grinned, but his cheek was swelling, one of his cheek bones had already begun to bruise and his lip was split. I wondered if I looked that bad. "So do you admit defeat?" I made a disgusted sound in the back of my throat before spinning myself so my legs caught his and dragged him down, too. He hit the floor awkwardly, but I didn't allow time to worry before I grabbed a chunk of his hair and yanked it. "Ow! Ooooowwww!" He bit, one of his hands immediately going for my blonde hair. My free hand flew out to stop him out of pure impulse, but instead smacked him in the face. "Ow, Christ, you dip shit!" He growled. But I had a plan already.

"So, what's up with these goggles, anyway?" I grinned, reaching for them. He reacted instently by making an X shield with his arms.

"Uncle, uncle, uncle! You win, okay?" He offered quickly.

"What? What a bore." I sighed, tugging at his hair. He peeked at me from behind his arm shield.

"Say, don't you have luggage or something?" He asked.

"... Uh." I offered.

"Don't tell me you didn't even think about it." He smiled like a Cheshire cat.

"Why didn't you remind me earlier!?" I barked.

"Like it was my job?!" He bit back.

"Arg, I have to get my crap! God knows what Near'll do to my stuff, the little creep!" I flew towards the door.

"What? Hey, wait! It's already past curfew!" Matt lurched after me, grabbing my arm.

"So? If I don't get caught it's fine." I pointed out.

"Can you really get it all in one trip? Risking two is a bad idea, don't you think? Just wait until tomorrow." He offered.

"No way in hell. I want my stuff. Now."

"Why? It doesn't matter. Do you need pajamas? Just wear something of mine." He offered.

"Thanks, but no thanks." I frowned. "Do you have chocolate?"

"... Did you just ask that? What the hell, chocolate?" He made a weird face.

"Yeah, bye, I need my chocolate, thank you." I bid.

"I'm being serious! Do you really think-"

"Come be my pack mule, then." I grabbed his arm and dragged him into the hallway with me. "Near never remembers to lock the door, so it'll be just fine."

"That's not so much what I'm worried about." He huffed quietly, following me silently. I had to hand it to the nerd. He seemed like he'd had plenty of practice with sneaking around for someone with such goody-goody complaints.