Chapter Text
The red, Chevrolet Impala pulls into a screeching stop. Not a sudden stop in the middle of a full parking lot type, but a rather confident one, being the only car permitted to park in the mezzanine .
He brought his goggles up his eyes, searching for a console that has gone lost in the pile of bubble wraps and unfiled papers . Two men come to escort him out of the lot and into the 10-storey headquarters. Arriving at the lobby, he's greeted by even more men who bowed before him, followed by a united "Good afternoon."
After what seemed like endless greetings, he arrives at the top floor unit where he expects his father to greet him from his executive seat . A chat and a burrito or two, then leave.
Instead he's met by his father along with a tall, burly male and a petite blonde woman with laces adorning technically every part of her body . As if some doll, like the expensive, porcelain kind that gives you the creeps.
"Mail, I would like to introduce you to Ms. Ivanov." Matt quirks a brow, but smiles anyway as per the courtesy of meeting someone for the first time.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Ivanov, you can call me Matt--"
"Mattie, it's so nice to finally meet you!" In less than a second, Matt feels arms attacking him around his neck. This stranger is already hanging off of his body before he could even react. He stood there, stunned, and slowly pushes her away from him to no avail. Her smile is way all up to her ears, almost like joker but worse because she's a monster of a different intensity.
'I'm gonna start screaming at the count of one.' He complains in his head. The burly man from awhile ago pulls her off in one go, then bowing as an apology to the slightly disturbed male.
"Mochi! What did you do that for? You're being rude to him." More than anything Matt is hella grateful, but whatever right?
Matt straightens his striped shirt, "That was one hell of an introduction."
The burly man smiles, but Matt could just wonder why. "Actually, she's been hearing about you ever since she was young. Madam Amane and your mother are good friends."
Enlightenment seems to have washed him, "Oh! You're aunt Natsumi's daughter!" He says superficially , because deep inside he just didn't know how his elegant aunt could have made such a spontaneous, borderline crazy woman .
His father clears his throat, "You've never met before, but she's already like family so treat her well."
She nods her head, "Mom talked about how she wishes to have a smart son just like you. I think she's very frustrated to have a daughter instead of a son!" Matt thinks that aunt might be frustrated for a different reason, though.
"I know a lot of things about you though we've never officially met. It's kind of awkward, huh? With the things I know about, it's almost as if we're siblings." She smiles, again.
Matt laughs, "Woah there, siblings? Haha, Let's start off as friends." he whispers the later part. "Mi...Misa right?"
"Haha, I'm happy that you remember!" She points her finger at the man standing beside her. "This is Mochi, he's my bodyguard."
He salutes with a cheeky smile, "Kanzo Mogi, at your service!"
Matt makes a knowing "Ooooh" to compensate for his awkward disposition and not knowing how to act friendly, or worse -- where to put his hands .
"Okay Misa, and uhm, Mochi? Sounds almost like a dessert, huh?" He laughs, "Now, what, what's up, then? Why are you guys here? Like a vacation or something?"
His father finally stands up from his seat, arms crosses but a gentle smile, nevertheless . "Actually, Ms. Ivanov will be here way longer than a vacation, am I right?" They both laugh, "She'll be living here for the mean time while attending Wammy's."
Matt raises his brows, "Wammy? Like, my school?"
His father rolls his eyes. "Yes, and I need someone to show her the ropes because sir Mogi will not be around for a few days to attend some business back in Moscow,"
He catches his breath, "You see, it's going to be difficult to have just anybody do that. She's an Ivanov, a social media influencer at that.....you know?"
The teenager laughs, "Ah, indeed that's going to be hard. I truly , sincerely wish you guys luck."
"I'm saying that it has to be you."
"I'm sorry to break it to you but, uh, I'm a busy man. You should ask someone else."
The older male could not hide his disappointment, "Mail!"
Misa waves her hand, as if to ward off the thick air between the father and son, "I know it's a bother but I promise you that I'm really fun to be with ! You don't have to follow me around and we'll be in the same school so it's a lot easier than you think!"
Matt scoffs, "That's not the point! I'm not going to waste my time entertaining some girl 25/8!"
"She's not some girl, she's family! Do you know how much the Ivanov helped us to get where we are now? If I didn't follow her father's advice, we won't be in this building under my name!"
Matt groans, defeated but not completely, yet. "What am I getting out of this?"
Misa, for some ungodly reason, raises her hand. "You can shop with me and get whatever you want." Upon hearing this, Matt envisioned the scene and choked.
His father interrupted, "They won't know you're Mhijack."
Matt freezes, his gaze crawling from the cold floor to his father's even colder face, "How...how did you know?"
"We give the NCA names and faces of mob bosses that they could not even identify. Did you think that I wouldn't find out that small business of yours? What is it called again? Hacking?"
Matt sighs for the hundredth time that afternoon. He didn't think that, after three years of laying low and cleaning evidence, he hasn't ultimately left the grid of suspicion . Yes, it was considered borderline illegal but come on, it was used for peace! Peace ! He had busted many secrets about high ranking politicians and those sly, sly business moguls !
"Hah, are you going to do this to your own son?"
"I can just imagine how many people will be after you."
"Fine!" Matt surrenders, putting both arms in the air for emphasis. Misa shouts a little 'yay', but covers her mouth upon feeling Matt's heated glare. He softens, though. 'I know I'm being mean but I just hate -- okay never mind, dislike entitled alphas!'
"Define Mochi guy being gone for a few days."
"Two weeks." Oh, shoot me in front of my red Chevy baby. "Okay, I'll be a good son, whatever." He stomps to leave, but the moment he was out of the damned room Misa appears from behind him, quite literally screaming 'Wait !' in his ears.
She swallows, "I won't be in Wammy's for a long time. I'm just...I'm....."
"What? You're what?"
"I'm looking for someone." She grins.
"...That's neat! If that's the case, tell me his name, or no, just even his most distinct feature and I will surely find him! Text me, you probably got my number from dad already, right? Anyways, I'm in a hurry so gotta scram. Bye!" What? So all he needs to do is find the person and she'll be gone sooner!
Matt zooms out of the hall before she could even speak. Misa pouts her cherry glitter lips, "But I don't know his name or what he looks like...I've never even met him."
"So...you still got those chocolate bars -- there you go! Still under the bed!" Matsuda pulls out a reused box filled with his addictive stash, seeing that there's a mix of Hershey's and Ghiradelli bars in them . At the same instant, Mello kicks it back to where it came from.
"You still eat before you go to sleep?" A appears leaning on the door frame, a mix of both amazement and disgust in his face. "Do you go to the dentist regularly ?"
"Should someone with alcohol issues be saying that?" Mello jests, which to A replies with brown eyes squinted, "I haven't drunk in a year."
"Anyway, shouldn't you have something to talk about with Light?" Matusda says whilst opening each drawer he found in the room.
"He already knows what to do." Mello hardens his eyes. "Though it's fishy how he agreed to come home and let me perform in the music festival, in my own father's academy."
A quiet knock comes from the door. True enough, it's Light Yagami, whom they did not know if knocked to catch their attention or had simply heard enough .
"I already have your schedule for this weekend. Would it be alright to talk to you boys about your set for that night?" Light, with his almond eyes and defined features; his perfect posture and classy style, no one would think he's the manager of ASX . He still looks exactly the same as the time he left the company to become a band manager from a vice chairman.
"That's what we're all here for." A shrugs, then Matsuda, lighting up like a bulb that's too bright for the living room, chases a bee line to order pizza.
"Remember to change your voice a little." A says, then the meeting begins.
15 minutes into the planning and foreshadowing the many fortunate and unfortunate that may occur in the event, a doorbell rings through the conversation .
Light throws a suspicious glance at the door, "Are you boys expecting anybody?"
Matsuda laughs, "It's just the pizza man, Light!"
Light frowns, "The guards from the gate did not call. Don't tell me they let anybody in without asking?"
"It's fine! I'll get it." A rushes to the door. Before opening, he takes a deep breath and messes up his locks a bit. He chuckles to himself, 'Ah, I'll bless someone today by answering the door and letting them see me. This is what idols should be doing. Why hole up in a room?'
"Pizza?" A plasters the best television smile at the male standing before him.
Matt quirks a brow, "No? Hi there A. Is Mello in?" He peeks from his shoulder, tiptoeing a little to match A's humongous height. A thinks, 'No pizza?' He then realises that it could not be other than a passionate fan who probably found a way up to the private hill area of Mello's residence .
A makes a baffled noise, "Aren't you a little too fast to figure things out?"
"Wait, what?" The teen laughs. Laughs. A's displeasure deepens.
"Well, if you want my autograph that badly then..."
"....I really don't." The teen scratches his neck, "I'm Mello's friend, so just go get him please."
A tilts his head, "Strange. Mello doesn't have any friends-"
"Matt!" Mello shouts from behind, pushing A out of the walkway.
"I forgot you were coming. Got caught up in the meeting back there." Mello pulls Matt's arm into the house, all eyes now on the eccentric male at Mello's tail.
Mello quickly introduces him, "Matt, my band members. Guys, Matt, my best friend from childhood.
"Heard lots about you guys. Practically everywhere."
Matsuda smiles, "That's so cool! Mello has friends!" Mello brushes it off. It's annoying but they're not wrong.
"Oh, isn't this little Mail?" Light says from the back of the room, still on the sofa with his glasses drawn to the tip of his nose. Matt's carefree smile loses its day upon seeing the devil all too well.
"Light Im-a-gay, it's been what, 10 years? You're still alive?"
"That sharp tongue of yours hasn't changed." Light sneers, fixing his tie, "I guess fate has naturally brought you together. I can't do anything about it." Mello opens his mouth to say something, but Matt beats him into it.
"Like how you stopped every letter I sent to Mello before?" The tension grew thicker and darker, making it hard for any outsider to swallow. For Matsuda and A, all they can do is exchange glances and wish a meteor would miraculously crash into the 6-feet deep ice that otherwise none of them would do .
"It was an order." Light ends it there. Matt puked a little in his mouth, "You're still uncle Maruvick's dog?"
Ring. The sound didn't come from the door this time, but from the landline phone sitting at the perfect spot to watch the whole scene unfold . Matsuda staggers to pick it up, his sweat cooling down.
"The pizza's here!" A exclaims.
"Let's go?" Mello whispers to Matt. The teen nods his head violently and they leave, deaf to Matsuda telling them to stop.
A looks over at Light as if to say something, but he forgets about it the moment he meets the intimidating hazel eyes.
Near just finished what could be his thirty-second practice that day.
The clock had hit the seventh hour of the night, so there was nobody in the main building except him. If his arms were longer, they'd be dragging dramatically along the Sapphire hall with how tired he was.
People asked him before how much he loved music. He didn't know how much as he didn't even know if he loved it. He appreciates it to an extent, but he's not sure if that feeling can be described as loving something.
Music is the most calculated yet free form of art that he had ever come across. It's a fluid existence you can put into shape, and there's something about the control he feels that keeps him content . There's always something to perfect, and it's always easy to distinguish the flaws.
Lost in his thoughts, Near wondered if he's going to keep playing forever. There are times when he feels that strangers expect him to play more than he does so himself. Succeeding L's position is committing to the cage he's already tied to, and thinking about that suffocates him a little .
Before he reached the end of the hall, slow thumping sounds trailed on the marble floors. Near abruptly turns back to the source of what could be footsteps, only to find a dark, empty space. Near exhales, 'Really now...' His anxiety has been running out of lane these past few days that his imagination has grown physical too.
Watari stood by the black vehicle near the entrance, no cars lining up behind him. He greeted Near with a silent nod.
Near sat quietly for a good five minutes, feeling more and more haggard with each passing second. The notion that he barely ate that day finally dawns into him. Out of all the snacks Matt brought, he had only eaten the cereal bar while Matt himself ate the rest.
The sighing boy may not be the biggest fan of eating, but when the brutal pangs in his stomach do come, there's no helping it . "Watari, let's stop by the usual place for something to eat."
"As your command, sir." Watari stirs the wheel to a familiar route downtown, with lively people and golden lamp posts. Watari drops Near off at the entrance of the cafe with the unmistakeable red scheme and 'Tim Hortons' displayed at the front .
What's interesting is that, just a few more blocks down is a popular restaurant bar. The dark exterior concealed the blazing lights inside and the two, ranting males sitting by the glass window .
"So your dad blackmailed you into becoming a rich girl's bodyguard?" Mello puts down his drink.
"Uhuh. Honestly though, if he said he's gonna pay me at least $10 an hour I wouldn't react that bad to it." If she's not going to be too fussy then that's even better. At the same time, seeing how she acted today...that part is questionable. Matt shivers.
"I didn't know that Light was your manager. Does it feel like having tea with Lucifer?" Mello shakes his head.
"Uh...he's not that bad anymore nowadays. I mean, that fucker got his moments and I never forgot what happened but, he helped me."
Matt narrows his eyes. "How exactly did he help? Wasn't he like, you know, that to uncle Maruvick?" Both Matt and Mello are repulsed by the idea, coughing it out almost immediately.
"We don't even know if they were really that, but he quit the company to help me." Matt cringes at the second time hearing the word 'help'.
"Wait, that makes no sense. Why would he leave the company to follow a band around? And do you actually trust him?"
"I'm not saying that I trust him. I'm chill with him because he's useful. I mean, it did take years to get myself breathe in the same room as him but I matured." 'Matured' didn't sit right with Matt. Personally , it's not something he can ever associate with the blond. "I still hate him. But, compared to that animal of a dad? He's decent."
No matter how many times Matt told himself that people do change at some point, there's something about Light that doesn't make him eligible enough for that . That's like pledging to be good after already killing someone. Or Matt going to church.
"I got goosebumps when you said that." Matt jokes. His once laughing eyes dart behind Mello's back, which -- is technically the rest of the bar, and gags at the sight.
Mello, chewing his third chocolate bar, stops for a second. "What? Why do you look like that?"
"Sometimes I forget you're popular. Turning around is your choice." Matt blinks. Mello does turn around, only to see flashing phones right at his face. The chatter got louder upon Mello's recognition and women began to squeal. They wave their hands to their direction.
Mello smiles. A smile where his lips are tight like rusty hinges but still handsome. A flutter of light flashes from the glass window beside him. It came from the parking lot, where the paparazzis are doing the best job at hiding behind cars.
"Why do I feel like we're going to get mobbed in two seconds?" Matt grabs his console and keeps it in his pocket for safety.
What he said became the utter reality. People began coming to their table for autographs and pictures. Mello and Matt rose from their seats, the singer giving in for the time being. Matt stood there like an extra, a twenty-fourth-wheel with the increasing crowd. People passing by the bar also began flooding in to see the ASX star, and that's when Matt decided that it's a good night to run .
Mello calmly makes his way out while Matt, getting into his bodyguard character, raises his arms to stop people for possibly murdering his friend . He whispers, "Where are your bodyguards?" which to Mello shrugs. He outrun them when they circled downtown before stopping at the bar.
The two men are now running through the endless sea of sweaty beings and sprints to where Mello's motrcyle should be . Of course, they got there too. If they rode that shit, it will be a real walking dead with how much the girls are clinging to that bike.
"We're fucked." Matt curses at Mello. Why? Sometimes he's cool but sometimes about to get killed? There's no in-between?
Amidst the nasty dilemma and screaming women, Near has successfully ordered a vanilla cream shake and a plain muffin . On his way out, Watari points at a commotion near the end of the street. During instances like these, Near would normally roll his eyes, sip on his shake and get going. But across the crowd and blaring lights, he makes eye contact with very familiar, desperate eyes .
As expected with this man called Matt, his name is screamed at the top of the universe's lungs. "NEAR!"
Matt pulls a weight behind him, and it's the ball of hatred that goes by the name of Mello. And they're running. The people too. In his direction. Straight at him.
Near stumbles in his position, his brooding eyes getting wider and wider each second. His peace of mind has been broken yet again not by one, or even two people but a whole city this time around.
"NEAR OPEN THE DOOR!" Watari acts quick and opens the said door, and in comes Near pushed by Matt and Mello. In less than point two seconds, faces have already bombed the car windows and Watari steps on the gas in a way stoic old men don't .
The Bentley races away and the crowd gets smaller into the distance. Matt makes his biggest sigh of relief and internalises the new situation they're in. One, they're in Near's car. Two, it smells like vanilla. Three, it's Mello who smells like vanilla.
Near is frozen in place, his hand shaking just above Mello's leather pants. He's on the opposite side to Near's end, while Mello sat in the middle. The blond stared at the white substance trickling down to his boots, while Matt stifled a laugh.
Near composed himself, ".....what was that?"
"What the fuck, Near?" is what Mello replied.
Matt covers his mouth. If he laughs now, the headlines would be 'ASX main lead kills childhood friend?'. Matt swallows it all. "We-we were mobbed ." Matt pats Mello on the back, then glances at his thighs. "At least it's not chocolate this time."
"Matt!" Mello glares at Near, "You have talent for not holding things properly , don't you?"
"Who threw me off balance?" With this, both look at Matt.
"I'm sorry, okay? You had a car, I knew you, we had no choice! I saved your life Mello, damn."
"So what are you going to do about this? These pants are expensive." Mello does not say this to Matt, though -- but to the albino boy crushed beside him.
"With your father's money, you sure have ten of those." Near snaps. Why be so scrupulous about the price?
Mello scoffs. He couldn't even put his fucking hands down! The vanilla scent is getting too unbearable -- he might as well die back in the bar. How unlucky can this day be? He already needed at least 10 weeks off without seeing Near after what happened in the music room. Now this? They're glued to each other in this small space and he's about to fucking lose it!
"Sir Mello, here's a box of napkins and sanitisers. It is not enough but we shall replace your pair with new ones as soon as possible." The forgotten old man that had 80% contribution into saving their lives ( and the incident ) caught them off guard .
"Uh...thanks and you don't have to." Mello takes the box. Near, at this moment, notices how wet his right arm has been as well. He reaches for a napkin but Mello instinctively tore it away from him.
Matt couldn't hold it any longer and bursts into laughter, "This is hilarious! If you guys only saw your faces! Near you looked so damn surprised!"
"If anybody was grabbed and pushed in the same level as yours they'd be more than surprised." Near twirls a strand of hair. What Matt learned is that, this 'twirling' either indicates his concentration or uneasiness. When it comes to Matt however , it's usually the frustration that he's not strong enough to punch him in the face.
"Where to, boys?" Watari interrupts.
Mello looks up from his vigorous wiping, "My villa. It's in --"
"I know." Mello raises a brow but doesn't comment. This man screams 'exceptional' in his resume that he's somehow not surprised.
"You know?" Matt, the curious boy he is, did not possess the same brain wave as Mello.
"Yes. Master Lawliet owns Springtide Private Villas." Matt nods his head knowingly and with a thread of amusement. Watari continues, "We know everyone who stays in the villas."
Mello just nods. He almost forgot that this annoying twit beside him is L's successor. Firstly , he doesn't look anything like a qualified heir. He can't imagine Near bossing around anybody or even sitting at an office chair normally .
"Move over, Matt." Matt complies and pushes himself as close as possible to the door. Mello rolls his eyes, "I said move over."
"I did."
"Then more, dumbass."
"Do you see any more space to move here? I'm literally the door."
There's a wide space now separating Mello and Near. The white boy wasn't bothered and watched the trees go by.
There's a claustrophobic, awkward silence wafting among all four of them. Matt decides to speak up, purely to entertain himself and stop him from falling asleep. "Ah, who knew Near likes to go to Tim Hortons when he's finally hungry? If you weren't there, Mello would be gone by now."
Near spares a side glance, "Where is that Mello's bodyguards?" Matt thought his tone can't possibly get any colder, but boy was he wrong? Even with lips pursed and his whole face hidden from the teen, Matt could hear Near imploding inside out.
"We left them and only brought a motorcycle."
Near jeers, "How reckless as always." Matt forces a smile. 'This is going to be long ride,' is all he can say.
Mello lifts his head from his business to glower at Near, "Are you asking to beaten up? In this situation that's going to be very easy. You're smart enough to know that right?" Watari clears his throat. For a split second, Matt had forgotten that this old man will most likely gun them down if they were to hurt a strand of Near's hair .
"I didn't know that you three are such good friends." Watari muses. Near throws a wary look, a complete contrary to Matt's grin.
They all answered in unison, "No."
"Yes." Matt just lost his game upon hearing the two. All he could do is gape at them.
Watari nods. "I'm glad Near has people to get along with." Mello winces at the statement.
"Let's go back for the motorcycle tomorrow." Matt whispers.
Mello scrubs the last particle off of his boots, "Uhuh. Though it doesn't matter because I have around ten of those." Matt's mouth makes a big 'Ah' sound. Near stares at Mello with furrowed brows and eyes of ridiculing disbelief.
Near peeked out of the window to detach himself from reality, while Mello folded his arms and closed his eyes.
'Why is it always me,' is what Near thought.
'Why is always this fucker, and why am I the one sitting beside him?' is Mello's claim.
With the ultimate silence that Matt could no longer do anything about, he brings out his console. Ten minutes pass but they were no where near the villa and the traffic just keeps getting heavier. Matt dozes off, then falls asleep to the humming of the engines. If there's something to be aware of about Matt's sleeping patterns, it is that he never wakes up unless by his own accord. In the circumstances they're in, that's the worst case scenario.
Matt is now inching away from the door and closer to the blond. Mello opens his eyes at the sudden weight leaning against him to find a head already on his shoulder. 'Dammit, Matt.' His arm feels hot, and the friction throws him off. He plunges his left shoulder upwards to get the boy out, but Matt is just far too deep into his blacked out state. Mello does it for the second, then the third and fourth time, but the only thing he got from it is his pal rubbing him in the wrong way even more . There's only a certain extent to how long he could take it, so he ends up skipping out of his no-twits-allowed zone and to Near's side .
Near is receptive of how close Mello is now, so he himself decides to shift away and if he could, melt into the door. Mello is just as attentive, though. Seeing how the twit is actually annoyed with the unforgiveable distance, he's a mix of being irate and wanting to kick him out . Or kick him over the edge, either way is fine. He decides with the later.
'I'm the uncomfortable one here, shithead.' He cursed Matt in his head too.
Mello motions closer, close enough that their knees are touching. Near flinches and glances at Mello before crossing his legs. Before the albino boy could return to his mind cube, he feels their thighs touching. Thighs.
Near peers at Mello, soon regretting it upon meeting the mocking blue eyes with how close they are. They're upper bodies are stuck like two wet glass panes, and Near -- oh boy, it's not pleasant. For a second, he'd rather be sent to Paris.
Mello sneers. It's comedic how shaken the boy is. Somewhere in his twisted little mind, he just found squeezing Near with twice his weight enjoyable . However , what he thought of as the said 'entertainment' was short lived. A vicious gust of aroma disrupts his senses, and by putting one and one together he knows exactly what it is.
'It's that goddamn scent again! Is once not enough? Does it have to be now? Why is no one smelling shit!' Mello thrusts himself away from the source, hitting his friend just right under the chin to make him groan in pain .
Near, for the thousandth time that day, stares at the blond who seems to have an attack of some sort, incredulously reclining from the estranged man .
Mello covers his mouth, then his whole face, trying to get away from Near. Everything is happening too fast, and Mello is aware as fuck how hot his stomach is growing. His head is a mixture of disgust, denial and the godforsaken l-word; like a perfect grenade.
Mello just positioned himself as far as possible. Near couldn't take saying nothing. "If you're going to be that repulsed by it you shouldn't have done it in the first place."
To a third party, it would look like Mello is fucking around. To Watari, who is no ordinary third party, can tell that there's something wrong. Watari became too vigilant towards Mello's actions that he run over a small island on the road.
As the car swayed, so did Mello. Ungodly enough, he flew to Near's whole person.
Near and his calm, unterrorised abode is now plagued by the Mello, his arms just above his head and their noses a cursed gap away .
If Mello were to describe what this is, it's simply being fucked over. They're so close that he doesn't know where to look because every corner of his sight is Near's bare features. A little shift down and it's his lips, a little shift up and it's the asshole's eyes.
Mello does stick with the eyes, and shockingly , Near's is just as attentive as he is.
The problem is not the fact that they are two idiots acting out a drama scene, but the scent got stronger. Mello's senses are all excited with sharing the same pascal of air with Near.
Near held his breath. He doesn't know where on God's will this moment is written , but he's just as clueless as he can get.
There's a faint scent coming from Mello, lingering in his nose way longer than the fragrance of chocolate . It's so odd, and yet his body can't move.
"Fuck..." Mello began. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Is he saying it to swear at the albino or....?
"We're here boys." Mello snaps out of whatever nightmarish delusion he was trapped in. Out of a burst of emotions, he slaps Matt awake.
"Wha- what the hell? Wait, we're here?"
Watari smiled. "Springtide Villas, yes." Matt points a finger to the air, then directs it to Mello, then to Near.
"Do you guys not know how to wake up people properly ?" Matt receives another burning slap. "Awww, Even my chin hurts! Wait," Matt pokes Mello's cheek. "Why do you look like you went out in the sun for too long? So red!"
"This is your fault!"
"What? I just slept!" Matt takes a look at Near. For some reason unknown to him, the great Near Lawliet is in a daze with his cheeks appearing like a canvas splattered with pink paint .
"Get out!" Mello opens the door and violently kicks Matt out. Matt stumbles with confusion.
"Why are you like this? Oh yeah thank you for the ride --"
"Let's go, Watari." Near does not acknowledge Matt and slams the door shut. Like a robot, Watari accelerates away from the villa driveway and Matt felt like a thrown toy for the tenth time that day .
He puts his waving hand down, "Mello, what the hell honestly ? Man," Mello, who would cuss him out on a good day, doesn't reply.
"What's wrong with you, again?" His friend is breathing heavily . Is this a life-and-death situation?
Mello, with his blaring sapphire eyes, sharply peeks at Matt behind his lowered head. "I can't do this anymore. It's fucking irritating."
Matt shivers, "The...what?"
Mello bites, "What do you know about fated pairs?"
Near arrived in the mansion with tension still up to his neck. Watari followed him forth without a single word, or opinion on whatever he saw at that matter.
The boy walks past L's office upon hearing voices. Assuming that L is having issues again with Mr. Higuchi, he decides to retire early.
Before opening the white, laden door leading to his room, Watari finally speaks. "Does such rendezvous occur to you daily?"
Near does not think twice, "Yes. Every minute of the day."
"Would you like me to do something about it?" Watari's tone is lined with concern, to which Near picks up. If the teen were to speak from his pounding heart, the answer would be no doubt a 'yes.' However , one question remains open and that is if it's worth the displeasure.
He doesn't delve much into his thoughts, afraid he'll start thinking of unnecessary ideas . "No, it's a waste of time. Let them be and they'll soon get tired of it."
"Oh, you seem to care about them."
Near looks at him much like a stiffened deer in the hands of a blood-sucking goblin. The idea is exactly that. Unheard of. "It's as if you're trying to say a fruit fell because a kid from another town kept jumping. Yes, completely unrelated."
Watari makes a throaty chuckle, "Good night, master."
"Yes, indeed. Have a good rest, Watari. I hope you begin thinking rationally by dawn." Watari then steps away to head to his chambers, and Near is unsure whether he heard him laugh as he did so.
Near entered his room and changed quickly into his beloved attire -- cotton white pyjamas. Sticking to his routine, he lays out figurines from a box, where a small portion are undone. They've been all handmade from clay, and now he's in the process of painting them. They're an equal mix of real people with eccentricities and the plain ordinary.
The moment he picked up the brush, his mind began wandering to a particular peculiar being. He places his palm on his chest, "It's been thirty minutes and it hasn't died down." He whispers.
Whatever that was in the car, he's aware he could've avoided it. Pushed him, kicked him, bit off his nose, anything -- but he had to watch Mello eye him from his temples to his chin.
His mind did not race with its usual calculating thoughts, but it was a wash of just Mello, and more Mello. As if it blanked out not into white but Mello. He couldn't move by then.
There was a smell that intoxicated him along the way, he just can't pinpoint what it was or where it came from. It was sweet -- but not the sugar he hated, but sweet like morning, or what his stomach feels after finishing a sculpture . Nothing in the world smelled like it, yet there's a sense of familiarity with the scent.
One scent that brings many memories from the past, all those years ago, at the orphanage.
He knew someone just as sweet, who played with him with the most endearing of smiles. All he could remember was the snow, the birds, and the warmth amidst it all.
The four-year old Near thought that building a snowman is something that can go on forever. That perhaps , that person will not leave.
Yet he did, without a single trace, almost as if Near had imagined his existence. It's been fourteen years of occasional pondering where that person is, or if he changed at all. One day, maybe he can forget -- but today is not that day. Not when he feels what he feels, and emotions remind Near of him the most.
A boy as uncommon as his name, "Mihael."