After making promises with Matt, we split apart, swearing to meet after it was over.
I left a letter for him at the shop we'd promised to meet in, apologizing for my death and telling him to leave Japan. As I said in the note, I wanted him to "find someone who won't lie to you about his own death to keep that cheeky grin on your face a little longer."
Kiyomi was quickly and easily obtained, thanks to Matt's ability to keep watch and cause a distraction. I shot a goodbye glance at the red car that was speeding off, and continued to my business. Halle helped Kiyomi onto the motorcycle. Once she was behind me, convinced of her safety, I took off.
She was moved into the back of the truck once I reached my first stop. She's there now, naked and unarmed. Her things are in the passenger seat up front, and I can keep a watch on her movements from the window behind me.
There is so much left I wanted to do, so much I could have already done. To convince myself that I should keep going, I have to remind myself why I'm doing it in the first place.
"This is the only thing that can be done. If I don't do it..."
My eyes flicker to the screen that was placed in the transfer truck, the news taking on this exciting story and broadcasting it with enthusiasm. The beloved Kiyomi Takada has been kidnapped, and--
Matt was killed? I mutter apologies under my breath, in the hopes that he somehow might hear them. "I never thought you'd be killed," I murmur, eyes never looking away from the dented car. Matt must have looked so much worse. There was no way anyone would have survived that. "I'm sorry..."
The note will now be found by someone else- a complete stranger, most likely- and crumpled up, tossed into the nearest garbage bin.
Who would really care that much for a stupid apology note, anyway?
I pulled into an abandoned, decrepit church. It seems like the best place to wait. I know Kira will either come for her or tell her to kill me. If Kira doesn't arrive soon, and I'm not killed, I can interrogate her. But as thorough as my plans are...
I don't want to die.
I deserve death for bringing an endless stream of bullets upon the only guy who could ever stand me for prolonged amounts of time, and helped however he could.
I don't want to die.
I deserve death for killing a man- a police chief- who only wanted his daughter safe and sound. Who only wanted justice.
I don't want to die.
I deserve death for killing someone who was on the phone with his children- who begged me to spare him, despite being the head of a rival mafia.
As much as I deserve it, as much as Kira believes I deserve it, I don't want to die.
“—You know, if that was my DS, it’d still be playable.”
Clearly whatever mood was in the room had begun to effect him as well, if his lack of reaction was anything to go by. He chewed on the butt of his cigarette, eventually choosing to spit it out all together and grind the remains into the worn wood paneled floor.
Mello chewed the inside of his cheek, reaching for the unwrapped bar of chocolate that had been on the table for a long while now. Bringing it to his mouth, he thought better of it and it was laying neglected on the table again.
"You remember what I told you." His eyes flickered up to look at the goggles covering Matt's eyes. Damn. "There's a chance you will get caught. You have to avoid that at all costs..."
For a few minutes, he rambled about what needed to be done, again and again. Knowing Matt was listening, but hoping that by repeating the plans, nothing would go awry.
Somewhere amongst the cacophony of characters being blown to smithereens, he could hear a particular undertone to Mello’s voice. Something he’d only ever heard a few times before. The feeling almost drove him to attempt to pause the level.
If Matt wasn't off that game in ten, he would make sure he would never get on it again.
Five seconds was close enough. The sound was driving him insane.
With a quick movement forward, the game console was in his hands. In milliseconds, it connected with the table and hit the floor, making a series of pathetic sounds accompanied by its just death.
Some twenty minutes later found the redhead kicking at the base of the shabby flat’s door. Knocking was decidedly not an option, what with both of his hands glued to his PSP. A snubbed out fag dangled from his lips as he muttered something about rotating platforms and health bars.
Mello gave a quiet sigh, stepping to the door and tugging it open. "'Ten minutes' was almost an hour ago, Matt."
He returned to his chair, leaving the sofa across the table for Matt's gaming pleasure. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to deal with the noises coming from the console in those gloved hands.
"Turn the volume down or turn it off," he demanded, harshness gone from his voice. He sounded more melancholy than he ever had; with a clear of his throat he attempted to fix that.
Under normal circumstances, he would’ve answered his cell on the first ring. But facing down the masks with one heart left on an already glitchy game? Oh no. Whatever it was, it could wait.
That was, until the screen froze.
“… You’ve gotta be kiddin’,” he whispered. Considering the age of the game—and the general dodginess of the cartridge itself—he really should’ve been expecting it, but now? Now?
“Nononono—”
BEEPBEEPBEEP
He kept his eyes trained on the screen as he groped for his phone.
“… Now? What?”
It was a rhetorical question, really. He knew full well what the blond was talking about. And as usual, his timing was shitastic.
"Alright." With the closing of his phone, he waited. Waiting being the perfect word. The blond gazed at the door, seldom blinking, never reaching for the dark chocolate on the table.
If he ever resembled L, it was now. Hair a mess, leaning heavily against his knees, watching the door with a deadpan gaze.
He was debating internally on whether to tell Matt the risks at all.
It all depended on how Matt came in, and what he asked.
Running my right hand through my hair, lolling my head to the side, and opening my eyes to peer through the door in his bedroom, I gave a groan. The pain medicine had worn off and the few windows here were allowing light inside my apartment, which means I was out for more than a few hours.
Matt had probably gone home hours ago, and if he hadn't, it was unlikely he took the time to rest here.
I wouldn't have rested, either, if it weren't for the side-effects from the pain pills I'd scored.
Sitting up, wincing at the tearing burn, clutching my shoulder as it tried to stick to the bed sheets "Damn it..." If Matt knew it were still oozing and sensitive, he would have begged me to push this mission back much further.
After doing a thorough search through my flat, it seemed like my friend had left to do better things. Hopefully, he could do that after tomorrow, too. It's only myself I'm worried about; if Matt can get away- and he should be able to- he'll be just fine.
I glanced at my phone, wondering if Halle's number had been changed. She had been so useful in the past, and would definitely pass along taunting messages if I asked her that much. I dialed her number, placing the phone to my ear and sitting in the nearest sofa.
"Mello?" came the answer. One ring was all it took.
"Am I interrupting anything, Lidner?" I asked, knowing her better than to trust it was just luck that had her at the phone so easily.
"No, not at all. What is it you need?"
I looked at the pile of papers on the table- the papers about Beyond Birthday and what L had told me about them- and a new idea settled itself in my brains.
"I have something I would like you to publish. It will be in your personal box tomorrow morning."
There was silence, and finally, she muttered, "I'll see what I can do. Is that really all you wanted?"
"Yes. Good-bye, Halle. Thanks for your time."
"Bye, Mello. I hope you'll drop in again sometime." She sounded sincere, but I huffed in amusement and snapped my phone closed.
That wasn't going to happen.
Near knew that much when I told him goodbye.
I wonder if he had heard the conversation between myself and Lidner. If he had, was he envious I didn't ask her to pass a message along to him?
Her eyes widen in shock as she collapses to the floor, she holds her head in her hands, and sobs. "It is my business!! I know you don't like me! I know that! And I know that I can't stop you!" She looks up at him and raises her hand to him, "
As much as you want it to be, it isn't. What I do to catch Kira is my own business, and you are having no part in it.
She continues to hold his arm. "Mello, I'm begging you! This won't end well!! I know I haven't known you for long, and I know you aren't interested in a relationship! But I can't keep this inside forever! I love you, Mello and I can't stand seeing you about to walk out that door and get yourself killed!!" She starts to cry, hesitates, then quickly kisses his lips before pulling back and letting go of his arm.
Get out. I'm not letting you join me, and I'm not stopping this while I'm so close to an ending.
I have no desire to pursue a relationship with you. Save yourself the trouble and get lost while you can. Whether it ends well or not is none of your business, anyway.
[His mouth is pulled into almost a snarl, scar keeping the left half of his face from moving significantly. The kiss was clearly a snapping point.]
"I know it's a risk!! But I don't care. If you let me help you, I can be of great assistance. And at least..." She grabbed his arm softly, and began to cry. But she wiped her tears quickly, hoping he hadn't seen them. "At least if something happens, I'll die too! I couldn't live knowing that you weren't alive. I cant live without you here, Mello"
In one fell swoop, Matt defenestrated the entirety of his ill-gotten munchies—along with the contents of his stomach. Woe be to any poor sap who happened to be on the street below the nearest window.
Sigh. Hopefully no one would suffer the wrath of terrible food. A gloved hand met his face, though immediately left it once it made contact with the burn. So much for that.
The question as to how Matt managed to find a much worse fast-food place baffled him, though it really shouldn't have. Mello responded halfheartedly. "Thanks."
"Are you sure? I can cook something." The smell from the last box wafted to him, and his eyes narrowed, fingers drumming on the countertop to avoid an oncoming gag.
"Get those boxes out of here, Matt. And don't eat them."
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