Dropped

“I want to get us there tonight,” Matt pushes his hair out of his face, and rubs his eyes with one hand, the other fighting clumsily with the chopsticks as he tries to manage the bowl of noodles in front of him, “I really want to, but my instincts say we need to sleep.”



Matt knows L a little better than the other two. When he was seven, and new at Wammy’s and not anyone’s best friend yet, he had... semi accidentally hacked into CIA files, and completely accidentally triggered a trap.



L had heard about it and was thrilled. He came back and he and Matt spent an hour, Matt nervously telling him what he’d done and how, and how they should probably change this about their system if they didn’t want it to happen again.



But not how now that he knows where the trap is sure he could probably get in there any time, because the measures he triggered felt (to his expert instincts) like a last line of defence.



L gave Matt the strawberry off the top of his cheesecake



“I mean I care about him as much as you guys. Even if I’m not.”



Not really in the running any more.



“That much is obvious,” says Near. He sounds sort of scornful, as though Matt’s stupid for thinking he and Mello would ever doubt him. It’s rude, but it makes him feel better anyways. Near is using his chopsticks precisely, like wielding a surgical weapon.



Mello throws a napkin at him, and Matt glowers in return.



“Well, now we know where he is, getting to him is going to be next to impossible.”



Near nods in agreement.



“Watari would not let us enter. We could probably find no real legitimate pretence for being there; there is no longer any construction being done, and even Matt is too young to blend in to that sort of thing surreptitiously. I think further observation is in order, and further consideration.”



Matt nods numbly, and Mello considers. Sighurd, who tends to be silent in public, speaks, startling them all.



“You could kill Watari.”



Matt looks shocked. Mello looks confused. Near looks stony, and adamant, and speaks first.



“We could not. It is an alias, and it would be wrong.”



Sighurd shuts up again, and wonders at her luck. Ryuuk got a psychotic human with ideals of planetary purity. She got three preteens, at least one of whom didn’t even believe in capital punishment.



“I think I might be Buddhist,” Near sips his tea, and considers, “I might like the idea of organized religion.”



Matt snorts, and Mello glances at him.



“Whatever, Matt, I’m catholic. Not, you know, a good one. But Near can be Buddhist if he wants to.”



Matt concedes with a nod.



“So can we go back and get some sleep?”



Mello digs into his pocket for some of their money.



“I’ll pay.”



The third time Mello met L was at the beginning of the whole Kira case, ages ago now. He had been visiting the orphanage, since that was the only place he was guaranteed to rest. The dark circles under his eyes had looked particularly painful, and when Mello crashed into him (literally) coming back from the bathroom, he felt like not much more than bone.



“Mello,” said L, gladly, once he got his breath back, “you’re tall.”



“I’m not supposed to be here,” whispers Mello, glancing back over his shoulder, “sorry, I was. Jennifer’s room.” Jennifer had a sweet smile, and liked to try to kiss him sometimes, and held his hand when he wasn’t running. Everyone went on about how great girls were, but... but he’d rather just play Nintendo with Matt. He doesn’t communicate this reluctance to L, who just winks at him and shoos him on his way.



“I will see you later.”



L doesn’t see him later. He’s called away on the Kira investigation the next morning, before he’s fully recovered, and Mello thinks about the dark circles and hopes he stops to sleep at least once in a while.



Mello suddenly decides something.



“Hey. I have a better idea. What if you and Near go back to get some sleep, and I go to the batcave,” they’re all still calling it that, “and wait outside. Then when you wake up, you come find me and we switch. If he ever comes in and out, that way I talk to him. Or at least establish how people come and go.”



Matt can find no objection to this plan, though it strikes him somehow as a bad idea. Rather than argue, he climbs to his feet.



“You know the way.”



Mello nods, and rises too. So does Near.



“I know the way.”



Mello thinks he could get used to Japan.



The streets are busy, sure, and maybe it’s a little brighter than the weather he’s been used to at Wammy’s place, and maybe people give him some pretty weird looks... but for the most part, it’s alright. He needs to find a fork somehow and just carry it on him in case of emergencies.



Also, he decides, a gun. Would be nice to have. But guns are illegal here, aren’t they?



Well, at least he’s not likely to be shot, if that’s the case.



He stays fifty feet away from L’s batcave, since it’s likely that the surveillance cameras won’t extend past forty, and he wants to not get caught on them. Then again, maybe he should just go up and knock. Watari might let them in, since they’ve come this far...



But no. He loses his resolve and stays back, sitting on the window sill of a nearby shop, watching pedestrians go back and forth. If Watari sends him back to Roger without telling L anything, then there’s no way they’ll ever get him the death note.



Ah.



Someone’s coming out of the building. Mello risks a walk by, strolling down the block with his hands in his pockets, dragging his feet. Out of the corner of his eye he watches four men emerge. One young, two a little older, and one with distinguished grey hair.



He recognizes the way the older one moves. That one, at least, is a cop. The other three probably are as well.



So L is working with the Japanese police. That’s good to know. He walks one more block up, then takes a left turn, and circles back to where he saw a bench that he could probably wait at a little more comfortably.



If anyone else comes out, Mello is not going to miss them. Not a chance. Not with this much at stake.