Dear L,
When will you and Watari be returning next?
-Meri
Meri,
We won't be returning until November.
Watari will be back at Wammy's by the end of October.
-L
On tiptoe, Meredith stood on a stool with a pile of books in her left arm while her right arm reached toward the upper bookshelf, constantly retrieving books. Clouds of dust were raised as she pulled out the books she wanted, making her squint and hold her breath to avoid inhaling them. Despite this, she managed to hold the books closely and maintain her balance.
Cookbooks were rarely borrowed in Wammy's House, as they had a cook who handled meal prep for the children and staff.
To name a few of what she retrieved, including titles like "100 Desserts for Starters," "Sweet Treats," "Sugar Rush: Recipes for Homemade Sweets," and many more similar cookbooks.
There were occasions when she learned some cooking skills at school, as she still participated in some non-academic classes in high school. Home economics classes offered sewing and cooking courses, and although she couldn't attend every class, she managed to acquire some basic skills. It was not something Meredith had done frequently, and in her current predicament, all she could do was search through every relevant book that might align with the concept she had in mind.
She should turn to the local library instead of relying solely on Wammy's House library. The library at Wammy's House primarily housed academic works and textbooks that were essential reading material recommended by the institution's professors. While there were some donated books that catered to a wider range of interests, including literature, fiction, sheet music, newspapers, and reference books on various subjects, the diversity and breadth of the collection couldn't compare to what the local library had to offer.
Meredith wobbled a bit as the weight of the stack she had gathered became too much for her to hold in a single arm while maintaining her balance. She stepped down from the stool and headed to the study area. The study desks in the library were positioned next to tall windows, allowing the sunlight to stream onto the desks and provide ample light for studying. As she settled into a seat and flipped through the cookbook pages, she swiftly skimmed through the table of contents, searching for anything that she could make.
Cake. Cookie. Tart. Bread. Macarons. Puffs. Meringue.
No baking…Has to last long enough…Could be preserved in room temperature…and sweet…and to the best of her ability…
Her brows furrowed as she went through all the content in detail, crossing out the ineligible options one by one in her mind. After examining the last cookbook she could find, she placed it aside along with the rest. Leaning back against the chair's backrest, she took a deep breath and gazed up at the library's ceiling in silence.
Almost everything that L liked and craved fell within the realm of baked goods. And baking was not her thing. The last time she attempted to make butter cookies, only to end up with his comment, "Tastes like over-brewed coffee."
Come to think of his comment… it was actually a rather restrained and mild one coming from L, considering his tendency to make impolite remarks on other subjects. For instance, he once commented on an investigator's deduction conclusion, tilting his head and emotionlessly saying, "Were you thinking?" with a very innocent yet harsh tone. And without any hesitation. Although she actually agreed with him that the investigator's conclusion lacked logic and common sense, it was obviously better not to say so in front of the person.
L may be condescending sometimes, but she didn't mind, as she always thought that someone having the same intelligence as the children in Wammy's House would find communication with normal people quite tiring. Their world and mindset are built differently. Being the top one, L would experience much, much more occasions when people couldn't keep up with him. Would L also consider her stupid? She admitted that her intelligence level was maybe above average in Wammy's House, and perhaps all those years with L might have enhanced her intelligence level as well. However, no individual could actually beat L, and she doubted even the successors of L might not be able to surpass him. But L never did comment on her being stupid or show signs of condescension, as far as she could recall. Maybe he was being polite, or maybe it was because they have known each other for too long.
She blinked her eyes to moisturize them after staring at the ceiling for too long.
Regain your focus and thoughts back to ideas for gifts, Meri.
What she wanted to make had to be something that could last... Jam? Jam typically needed bread and other pastries, and L wasn't the type of person who enjoyed eating sweets with other accompaniments... Could he eat jam on its own? No, who eats jam alone...?
Perhaps she should consider a different approach. Handmade small things? She was quite good at handcraft and art, so it would be much easier to whip up something. However, L wasn't really interested in gadgets; he preferred playing with snacks, sugar cubes, or candy wrappers. Buying him a bag of sugar cubes seemed like a better option, although maybe… that was going a bit too far.
As she pondered over what else she could make, she tried to divert her frustration from the fruitless search to the surroundings of the library. That's when she noticed the desk across from hers, stacked with books related to music, albums, and sheet music.
With just a glimpse of the covers of the books from far away, she recognized the resources immediately. She had played all those pieces, or at least read them. In fact, Meredith had gone through all the music-related books available at Wammy's House, and some of them were even on the bookshelf in her room.
A boy, around 12 years old, was sitting there, engrossed in studying them. It was the boy that L had bumped into when they were heading to get the chess set in the game room that day. He had natural black hair just like L and herself, but his was untidy, much like L's. He sat slightly hunched, his demeanor resembling L's, but his face had a more natural tone, unlike L's pale skin. The boy also had bulging eyes and dark shadows under them, though not as intense as L's. The last time she saw him, he did not have those dark shadows under his eyes.
It was rare to find someone else interested in music at Wammy's House. She hadn't heard Watari mention taking in another child with a talent for music.
Curiosity sparked within her, and she stood up, pretending to return the books as she walked past the boy who had borrowed them, along with the sheet music. His attention was fully focused on a piece of paper in front of him. It wasn't writing or taking notes that he was engaged in but rather composing music on the staff lines, which surprised her even more. He at least had some concepts of music theory.
The boy appeared troubled by something, and she couldn't resist the urge to lean in and take a closer look. When he lifted his gaze, his brown eyes locked with Meredith's, but the whites of his eyes were bloodshot and red, evidence of him probably being sleep-deprived or overly focused on his work. Surprisingly, he remained calm and composed, unaffected by Meredith's proximity, as if he had noticed her approaching without diverting his attention.
"You understand composition?" the boy inquired, his tone soft and quiet. It wasn't because they were in the library and had to speak in a whisper, but rather his natural way of speaking.
Meredith nodded, "Kind of. Are you composing?"
"Yeah, I've been working on a piece. I'm just stuck on the next bar, couldn't come up with a better transition."
She studied the chords and notes on his sheet. Nice, simple piece, with a somewhat gloomy tone, not yet finished.
"Have you considered adding a descending chord progression in the bridge? It might create a more emotive transition and enhance the overall dynamics of your composition."
She hummed under her breath the suggested notes, illustrating. The boy refocused on his composition, his pen gliding across the staff lines as he notated the notes she suggested. A satisfied smile formed at the corner of his mouth, indicating that her suggestion aligned with his vision.
Taking a seat across from the boy, she asked, "You composed before?"
"…Not really, I'm just trying."
"It's quite impressive that you have such progress."
"…Impressive?"
"Yes."
"That's nice of you to say."
"It's facts."
The boy had a faint smile spread across his face upon hearing her compliment. "I want to give it to someone, as a gift. My friend. He knows more about music."
"Does your friend play any instrument?"
"He told me he played guitar and piano, but that was a long time ago. It's just a hobby."
"Hobbies are necessary in life."
Upon hearing, the boy slightly avoided her gaze, and muttered, "He wanted to continue. But they said music is unnecessary in our training."
"Who are 'they'?"
"The instructors."
"Professors?"
"Some of them are."
She wasn't sure if she should inquire further about the boy. As far as she knew, she was the only one at Wammy's House who received formal music training. Over time, most professors couldn't offer her advice anymore as her abilities surpassed their expertise. Intuition and practice were what she relied on to further develop her musical skills.
It was possible that other professors simply didn't have a deep understanding of music or failed to recognize its importance. Yet, at times, she herself questioned whether musical talent in Wammy's House held any true value. Watari wanted to raise geniuses that could change the world, stop conflicts, and contribute to human society, but could music itself achieve such grand goals? Music knows no boundaries and can touch people's hearts, but it certainly can't stop World Wars or political conflicts, nor can it catch criminals or bring about justice... However, she had never heard any professor explicitly deny the importance of a specific skill before. Maybe it was a new professor, or perhaps they were instructors specifically selected for this boy...
And why not let other children have some opportunity to explore other hobbies? After all, it didn't seem fair for her to have exclusive access to the piano. Maybe she could suggest to Watari that they move the piano outside her room and create a dedicated piano room where anyone who wanted to play the instrument could have the opportunity to do so.
"If you need advice on composing, feel free to ask," she said, pausing to consider whether she should continue, "I'm... experienced."
Recent works of Meredith included a TV commercial for cereals, which had the children humming the melody and begging Roger to buy the product for breakfast, though Roger firmly rejected their pleas. The only people who knew about the specific composition invitation she accepted were Watari and Roger, as they were the ones who approved it, and sometimes L, if he was interested in knowing. It was better to keep it to herself.
The boy contemplated her offer for a moment, "That sounds nice, but I don't have much free time. My training programs take up most of my schedule."
Training programs taking up most of the schedules?
They have structured curriculum at Wammy's House, which included common courses that all children had to take at a young age. Meredith was familiar with those. A boy his age should be starting to have specified courses, but also follow group schedules. It seemed rather unusual for this boy's training programs to occupy the majority of his time. Perhaps he was an exceptional case, someone with unique abilities that didn't require following the standard schedule.
Like L.
"Take your time. Whenever you find some time, just leave a note on my bedroom door to let me know when you'll be at the library. My room is on the right side of the stairs, at the end of the corridor, on the third floor."
Meredith then asked the boy's name.
The boy lapsed into a momentary silence before responding, "I'm Adam."
Adam. She had never heard this name before. Or she was too engrossed in her studies to notice any new arrivals.
"By the way, Adam, do you know of any sweet treat that can last long, be eaten on its own, portable, and doesn't require baking?"
Adam contemplated for a moment before responding, "...Jam."
"…Who eats jam on its own?"
"I know someone who eats jam on its own," Adam muttered with his eyes slowly blinking, "But if jam isn't an option, something similar but can be eaten on its own…you could try candied fruit."
Meredith considered his suggestion and nodded. "I'll look into that. Thanks for the idea."
"Mr. Hyde, would you kindly inform us where you buried your girlfriend after you dismembered her?"
There was one marshmallow in L's plate before him, with the background screens shining, creating a tiny shadow of the sweet. A bowl of marshmallows was at his right, and he pinched another one from the bowl and delicately placed it on the one that was on his plate before him, waiting for the man on the monitor to respond. Through the monitor screen, in a small room with plain gray walls and an iron-locked door, an officer stood in the corner carefully watching.
This was the first time she worked with the famous detective L. Although the voice coming from the monitor was altered, it didn't change the fact that the person could calmly ask a culprit while knowing that he had dismembered a person. Guess he was famous for being rational and emotionally detached not just for nothing.
The man in the room looked up, straight into the camera, his hands handcuffed behind the chair, "…You'll get nothing from me."
L gently dropped another marshmallow on the one marshmallow before him. Looks like a marshmallow snowman. He was quite pleased.
"Mr. Hyde, why did you commit such crimes? Of course, I am not truly interested in it, but rather more interested in how you found the perfect spot to bury the body pieces. However, Ms. Carlisle behind you would greatly appreciate your answer in order to write a decent report about the case."
The officer at the back of the room twitched her eyebrows, attempting to maintain her composure, but she knew better than to intervene in the detective's interrogation.
"...You will never understand, do you? You, the sound behind the monitor, I bet you never loved someone like I loved and adored her—"
Love? Is that how love should be like? To be obsessed and able to commit murder in such methods? L placed two more marshmallows on the top of the two stacked sweets, and slowly moved his fingers away, watching the four stacked marshmallows tower before him.
He could make it taller.
"And then, because you suspected that she cheated on you, you held her in captivity in the basement for 18 days, sexually assaulted her, went to her house, detained and interrogated her family, abased her parents, and threatened any man that talked to her in her working environment?"
He glanced at the case file beside him and pulled it closer, flipping through the pages, with his eyes scanning at the lines of the file. Ten deaths, ten victims' photo were pinned with paper clips on the top of the pages. Ten deaths were related to this case, meeting the minimum standard for him to be interested. If the police had asked for help earlier, maybe before the 15th day of the victim's captivity, she would have had a chance to be alive. But the investigators were too blindfolded to notice that Hyde was acting abnormally, so even after three visits to his house, they didn't see any signs or clues.
"Those who accompanied her are covering the truth. I have evidence that she did all that to me. I just wanted her to admit that she was at fault. If she admitted it, I would have released her, and everything would be back to normal."
The culprit continued, "You never loved someone like I do. Whenever I see her…I fall in love all over again, and I wanted her to be mine, to be mine forever. That smile, those pale blue eyes- it belonged to me, she promised that I'll be the only one, and I will preserve that forever- but she- she was a fucking liar, lied through her teeth and fucking every word- she was like a bird, a bird that always needed freedom, and how I wished I was the cage that she wanted to stay in- And it's not fair- IT'S NOT FAIR THAT I AM THE ONE THAT'S ALWAYS ALONE!"
L lowered the computer volume, muffling Hyde's screams of "I DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS!" and violent struggles in his chair, the chains on his feet and handcuffs rattled and rustled vigorously. His voice grew hoarse from all the yelling and resistance.
The detective observed him closely. Hyde resembled a child throwing a tantrum in a supermarket, demanding sweets from his mother, but this man was much older, and his grievances went far beyond mere candies.
L then pressed the button on his microphone and directed, "Ms. Carlisle, please administer another shot of sedative. Clearly Mr. Hyde needs to calm down before we can proceed with further questioning. Let's take a break for now."
"Yes, sir."
The multiple screens were still displaying different contents. Some showed data stats for other ongoing cases that L required from the investigation bodies, while others displayed classified authorities' files, news updates, confessions transcripts, and his email in the Wammy Organization mail system. On his disorganized desk, aside from sweets, case files were piled on both sides of him, with papers sticking out from the stacks. His focus returned to the marshmallows before him.
Adding three more shouldn't be a problem.
The tower of marshmallows stood before him on his plate as he stacked three more on top. Hyde seemed to understand his girlfriend profoundly, enabling him to cover up all signs and clues, thus leaving no abnormalities for the police to track down the true killer of the victim. Was such a deep understanding a result of love, too? Could love form an emotional conflict that could transform someone becoming a monster who seeks to control another being, even to the point of controlling life and death? Could it be that severe?
If so, he certainly did not have any love inside him, if that defines what love was.
He continued to stack more marshmallows as Watari walked into the dimly lit room which was only illuminated by the light of the screens, placing a cup of hot black tea before him.
And of course, with a jar of sugar next to it.
"The murder case that was assigned two days ago?"
Without lifting his focus, L responded, "Yes. Mr. Hyde said that he loved her and that's why he committed such crimes."
He didn't tear his attention away from the marshmallow tower and continued, "If love is what Mr. Hyde defines, then I am thankful that I do not have love in myself, Watari."
"I consider it is wiser to understand love in another perspective other than Mr. Hyde's perspective, L," Watari replied with a wry smile.
The tower of marshmallows collapsed, scattering in silence. During the earlier interrogation, Hyde also revealed that being with his girlfriend brought him so much joy that he wished she could be with him forever. He had an intense desire to possess every expression she had, wanting her smiles and tears to belong solely to him. Hyde further confessed that memories of his girlfriend smiling at him flooded his mind when he held her in captivity and dismembered her. Strangely, there was a smile of longing on his face as he recounted those horrific actions. "And that's love, Mr. Detective. In your brilliant mind that you don't know such things. You're a fool in this field," he concluded.
A fool? That was not how he sees himself often. Nor do authorities regard him as a fool. Most of the time, it was he who considered others as fools. It was obvious that under the definition of Hyde's explanation of love, he did not have any of those feelings toward anyone. But thinking of someone frequently, L had experienced that recently.
Even using all his knowledge and analyzing skills, he still couldn't explain why he had been thinking about Meredith more often lately, especially since their visit to the amusement park. It wasn't the first time he sensed something abnormal, from the day she had popped up in his mind while he was working. It was unlike the type of thinking he had when he used to not see her around, and that marked an unusual phenomenon for him.
Since a young age, he had been accustomed to her being around. It felt natural. Her presence was so... reasonable. She existed. She was there. She listened. She replied, and she commented. He saw her. He listened to her talking, and he accepted her presence. That's it.
When he moved out from Wammy's, he was slightly not used to her absence, but quickly grew accustomed to the new state a year ago.
But things were changing. Was it abnormal for him to think of her smile more frequently, just like Hyde had his girlfriend's smiling memories in his mind when he murdered her? He certainly did not want to harm Meredith, but the same phenomenon he experienced with Hyde was disconcerting. It made him feel uneasy to discover that he had something in common with a psycho killer. Was he going crazy as well? However, he felt quite like himself most of the time.
Thinking about her and having her on his mind during work was starting to interfere with his focus. This had to stop. He needed to find a solution to it. But first, he had to determine the nature of this phenomenon. It was beyond his comprehension, beyond logic and reason, something that defied all his calculations and predictions.
"Is there anything that is on your mind, L?"
L restacked the marshmallows on this plate, pondering how to respond to Watari. There was only one method he knew to understand the culprit's mind, and also, figure out what was going on in his own.
And that would be, more research.
"Watari, could you lend me every book, tape, journals in the nearest library that relates to affection...Academic or fiction, maybe romance... anything."
"Why so?"
"...Mr. Hyde claimed that he murdered the victim because of love. It was beyond my comprehension, and it seems that I'll have to understand his mindset better with further research."
Nobody knew the cook's real name, but simply calling him "the cook" is sufficient.
The kitchen at Wammy's House was primarily managed by the cook.
Every week, he went to the market to select seasonal ingredients and placed orders with specific vendors, who then delivered the goods to Wammy's House. He covered all the meals at Wammy's House, including breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, and special holiday meals. He could cook almost any imaginable food, from pastries, soups, desserts, and side dishes to common dishes like noodles and ravioli – they have all appeared on the dining table at Wammy's House. Traditional British meals or even international cuisines pose no challenge to the cook.
The children hardly see him, as he did not take on any caregiving duties, and arrived at the institution before breakfast and leaves after dinner. The most regular time to see the cook was during mealtime. He would gather with Watari, and now with Roger, and all the children, to say prayers together before dining. It was a definite opportunity to catch a glimpse of him.
He had a robust physique, a shaved head, and a clean-shaven beard (he said it was for cleanliness). His nose had a slight hook, and he appeared to be around 40 years old, with deep-set eyes that sometimes made you wonder if they could double as an ice cream scoop.
If the children were fortunate enough, there were times when they would encounter the cook in the corridors or at the backyard of the orphanage. It was not uncommon to find him busy tending to the vegetable garden (he primarily grew herbs that were used in meals), or collecting fresh eggs from the hen coop. During these moments, if the cook happened to be in a good mood, the children could make special meal requests.
Nobody knows who he was, but one thing was certain: the employees who work at Wammy's House have earned Watari's trust, and certainly the cook too.
Like Roger, the cook also possessed an exceptional memory. With so many children at Wammy's House, it would have been impossible to serve the same food to everyone. Some children had peanut allergies, while others were allergic to seafood, but he remembered it all. In addition to taking care of the majority of the children's meals, he also accommodated the dietary needs of those with specific allergies, ensuring their meals were free from allergens. At Wammy's House, apart from special cases like L, who had an obsession with sugar, the meals were generally well-balanced and nutritious. Of course, there were times when children disliked certain ingredients, such as spinach or bell peppers, but in a communal living environment, they had to eat what was prepared nonetheless.
Despite his mysterious and low-key nature, the children did not disrespect him when they saw him. After all, nobody wanted to have a strained relationship with the person responsible for cooking their meals. The last time a kid offended him, though no one knew the reason, it resulted in the cook serving a special meal with all the food that the kid complained about. The meal remained very nutritious and well-balanced in general, so Roger still made her finish it.
The cook, who was kneading bread dough for breakfast, soon noticed the girl standing at the entrance of the kitchen. He knows all the children's names, and he soon figured out who was standing at the entrance.
With his hands full of flour, he waved at her, and she approached him, feeling slightly shy and unsure.
"It's rare that you would come to the kitchen, Meredith," said the cook while still kneading the bread dough that he was working on.
"A-Are you busy?" stammered Meredith, quite startled that the cook remembered her alias. She had never talked to the cook before. The few times she could recall seeing him were when she followed Watari around the orphanage, observing their discussions about menus. After L came to Wammy's, she also watched Watari discussing dessert options with the cook. However, as she started spending more time with L and following Watari around less, she hadn't seen the cook alone for quite a while.
"Not really, I just have to finish this dough," the cook replied in a low and calm tone. Perhaps those who were trusted by Watari all had the same composure, which made her feel more at ease.
Meredith tried to come up with something to talk about before making her request, "What are you making?"
"Fig and walnut bread, it would be tomorrow's breakfast. What brings you here?"
"I…I was wondering if you could teach me how to make this, based on this recipe," Meredith pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket.
The cook paused and patted his apron, wiping away some of the flour on his hands, before taking the paper and carefully studying the notes that she copied by hand.
"It's simple, but the version you chose requires a long period of time to complete. There is a shorter version that would take less time."
"No, I want to use this recipe for the best results."
"Making it for someone special?" the cook returned the note to her, lifting his eyebrows, while the girl before him hesitated to respond.
"...It's for someone's birthday. We don't usually celebrate birthdays here."
In Wammy's House, if they were to celebrate each child's birthday in the institution, they would have to eat cake for the entire year, even if they celebrated it once a month. Usually, the birthday child would receive an additional cupcake with icing for their birthday after dinner, but that was about it. Many children preferred not to celebrate birthdays at all, especially anything related to their original families, including their own birthdays.
Meredith didn't celebrate her own birthday and preferred to keep it to herself. She had mentioned it to L once when they were younger, but she doubted he would remember such trivial details, as he never mentioned or did anything in response. On the contrary, L had a fondness for birthday celebrations. He saw them as an additional opportunity to indulge in cake, and having a legitimate reason for it made it even more enjoyable. In the previous years, Watari would be the one to prepare his cake, and together with Meredith, they would celebrate L's birthday in the privacy of his bedroom.
This year marked the first time she couldn't celebrate L's birthday with him. As Watari returned to Wammy's House alone in the following days, she made up her mind to prepare a treat for him, something that could last long without needing refrigeration, and that Watari could take back to L's place.
"If you want me to instruct you, you can come to the kitchen after supper and help me with the dishes. Then I'll be able to spare some time to supervise your progress on this recipe."
Meredith nodded, "Thank you, cook."
"We don't wrestle in the gaming room," Roger stated firmly.
"But wrestling is fun, Roger!" barked the boy with golden blonde hair, standing before Roger. The eyes under his neat bangs stared up right at Roger, and they were as sharp as knives, ready to cut through the manager of the orphanage. He was no older than 8, and there was a great height disparity between him and Roger, but his tone was firm, strong, and impulsive, unlike his young age and appearance.
"Yes, but only when the other person consents to wrestling. You can't just pull someone in and wrestle with them, Mello. That is pure fighting. Apologize to Matt."
"I actually said yes, Roger, so we're wrestling," shrugged the boy named Matt, who had brown hair and dark blue eyes. Matt's response did no good to the situation. It wasn't very convincing to Roger either, especially with Matt sporting a black eye from taking a punch from Mello.
They still needed to be disciplined. With other children complaining about them using up the space in the game room, Roger had to step in.
"You still can't wrestle in the gaming room. If you two were wrestling in there, how would the others borrow games and play with toys in peace?"
Before the two boys could talk back to Roger, their disciplining was halted by a knock on the door.
"Come in!"
Meredith leaned to the side, her upper body reaching toward the office door, while she carried a jar of orangettes in her arms.
"What is it, Meredith?" Roger's tone retained a hint of sternness, as he had not completely transitioned out of the state of disciplining the two boys.
"Are you busy, Mr. Ruive?" Meredith glanced at the two boys who turned their heads to observe the older visitor. She was only familiar with her peers who were around her age, and some older teens, like L and Kimiko, and she rarely had the opportunity to interact with younger children, especially newcomers.
Roger let out a weary sigh, realizing that he needed to temporarily halt the disciplining process. His principle was handling the discipline of younger boys in private, respecting their dignity, and preserving their self-respect.
His tone softened, "It's alright, proceed with what you need to say. What's the matter?"
She stepped into the office, her footsteps quick and purposeful, and approached Roger, "I was wondering if you could give me a taste test on this," she turned to the two boys and asked, "Do you two want some, too?"
The two boys cast their eyes toward the jar she held. With a nod, Meredith handed Roger and the boys a piece of the candied orange slice, half-dipped in chocolate.
Roger adjusted his glasses and examined the piece that was given to him. He wasn't particularly fond of sweets, but he had to admit that the orangette in his palm was exquisite.
The orangette was a perfect circle with a perfect thickness, evenly sized with the slices in the jar. It glistened with sugar, the translucence allowing light to pass through and casting a golden, crystal-like glow. Half of each citrus slice was enrobed in a rich, dark chocolate coating, creating a dark half-moon shape that offered an alluring contrast of colors against the golden candied fruit.
The dessert's appearance was truly captivating.
"They are incredibly sophisticated, Meri," remarked Roger. The two boys didn't offer any comments and immersed themselves in the sweet directly, savoring it thoroughly.
"Overly sweet," replied Roger with a frown after he tasted it. Meredith wasn't bothered by the remark; she knew it was precisely the kind of comment that indicated the dessert would suit L's taste buds.
"I think it's nice," Matt replied while still chewing.
Mello bit off the part with the chocolate coating. "It goes well with chocolate," he remarked and handed the remains to Matt, who nibbled on it without complaining about the lack of chocolate.
"Mello- " sighed Roger, with Mello giving the "What?" look. A picky eater, Mello was. But Roger was already done with scolding Mello.
Their comments and reactions to the orangettes fueled Meredith's confidence in the gift that she prepared.
It was October 31st, 1998. Watari would be returning today.
A/N:
Mello is still very young in this arc. Near hasn't even entered Wammy yet. Hoping to write some more parts of Mello being a child before him becoming aggressive.
Comments are always welcomed.