Watari Pt 1: L\'s Heirs

Matt sat down in front of the monitors in Mello\'s study and awaited instructions. The blond hadn\'t said a word since summoning him, but had just pointed to the computer chair. It could be anything from their grocery order to hacking the Pentagon. That was the excitement of living with him. Mello finished inspecting something on his laptop, then took the chair beside Matt and glared at the screen with his arms folded. Matt glanced at the screens again, but could see no reason for ire. Mostly it appeared that his lover had taken to discovering torrents with gusto. All but one screen showed music and audiobooks being downloaded.



"Right." Mello said finally. "I want to see everything that I missed from Wammy\'s." At Matt\'s blank expression, he went on. "I know there\'s the MayDay Line; I know there\'s the restricted \'phone lines with the big initials. I want to see what else there is."



"Those are the main events. Apart from the elite list, which you aren\'t going to touch with a bargepole, because you\'re sick to death of the umbilical cord linking us back to the Wammy House time and time again."



"Stop repeating my words back to me and just get everything up." Mello glowered under his fringe.



Matt shrugged and opened a browser. He typed the URL from memory, his mind racing on how to divert Mello away from those cases already being investigated by Near. A pop-up asked for his user-name and password, then they were in. Mello immediately saved the site to his favourites and glanced at the twenty or so headings there. Buying time for himself, Matt switched to a second screen and typed in another URL. "This one\'s a bit tacky. It\'s a forum for ex-Wammy people." He logged on invisibly. The first post filled a screen. It was a general invitation to the launch of a new batch of artwork, at Linda\'s art gallery. It was happening in five hours. "Damn!" Matt exclaimed. "I\'d have gone to that, only I\'d set aside tonight to pluck my nose-hairs."



Mello smiled. "Click on the comments, see who\'s on this forum." There were thirty posts to it, every name someone with whom they had been raised. A fair few were actually going to the event. "Great, Friends Reunited for the dispossessed geniuses. I think I\'ll help you pluck your nose-hairs."



The redhead snorted and, still trying to work out how to deal with the case list, scrolled down to the next post. He froze and blinked, but the heading still said the same thing. \'Mello - Is he dead yet?\' The main text read, \'I\'m having a really bad day. I\'m trying to cheer myself up. Someone tell me that they\'ve heard that Mello got killed in some really gory, prolonged way. It\'s about the only thing that could redeem my state of mind at the moment.\' "What!" Matt cried out. "Fucking arseholes."



"Let\'s read the comments." Mello commented quietly.



"Let\'s not." Matt responded, but his lover leaned forward and used his mouse to open the link. There were over sixty responses, some of them fantasizing about increasingly more elaborate deaths for their former housemate; some contributing real information, which turned out to be a wonderful display of what geniuses could do with the barest bit of gossip. "They know we\'re together." The comments there ranged from dismissal (\'They deserve each other\') to pity (\'No, Matt was alright\'). The longest thread though started with Luigi mentioning that he had been in therapy over the bullying he had suffered, as a child, at Mello\'s hands. Others shared their stories, about being dragged up corridors by their hair, footballs being targetted at their faces, fists lashing out in the common room... the litany went on. "Ok, you were a bastard as a child, but you grew up." There was no response. Mello was reading through to the very end. Stories about crying in the treehouse after exposure to Mello\'s vicious tongue. Lamond even proffered the opinion that the lack of self-worth that she had felt, as a teenager subjected to several of Mello\'s insults, had been instrumental in her subsequent battle with anorexia and self-harm. "Mello? What are you going to do?"



Mello shrugged and sat back again, eyes fixed on the screen. It was impossible to read his emotions, he seemed cold. Then he stood up and walked out of the room. Matt stood, automatically pressing his ribs, but they didn\'t hurt so badly now. There had been a couple of weeks for recovery and their healing suggested bruising after all. He jogged to the door and glimpsed Mello disappearing into their bedroom. Following, he found Mello standing in front of the wardrobe, the doors wide open. "What are you doing?"



"Deciding what to wear." Outfits were thrown onto the bed. "Red. It has to be red. Be honest, Matt, what do I look like in this jacket?" He quickly swung it over his arms and tided the hood across his shoulders. "With black leather underneath."



"I\'d shag you." Matt frowned. "You\'re not going to Linda\'s launch." He watched his lover turn in front of the mirror. "Ok, let\'s put it another way, if you\'re going to Linda\'s launch, you\'re going on your own."



"Fine." Mello pulled the jacket off and his top with it. "I need kick-ass, sexy, alive..." He rifled through the hangers and turned again to frown at the items on the bed. "Where\'s my little top? The one with the zip?"



"That\'s all of them." He lit a cigarette. "Can\'t you just say some Hail Marys and put it behind you?"



Mello swooped down onto the back of a chair and picked up a leather vest. He sniffed the armpits. "This will be fine." An outfit was assembled and placed onto the bed. "I\'m going in the shower. Book me a hotel room."



Six hours later, they were standing in the shadows of a street in Knightsbridge. While the rest of the buildings were locked and dark, light and affected laughter spilled from the floor to ceiling windows of the gallery in their midst. There were newspaper reporters and celebrities dazzled in the flash of cameras. Automatically, Mello\'s hood went up and Matt\'s mouth dipped below the level of his collar. There were bouncers in black suits and the soiree inside was populated by people in everything from evening dress to fashionably scruffy attire. Matt pulled out the vouchers, printed from Linda\'s post, which allowed access for the Wammy House alumni. "It looks shit. Why don\'t we go for a meal instead?"



"Come on, Matt. I\'ve been waiting for a chance to talk to Linda about her drawings."



"Mell, do not shoot her. You will be arrested and you will go away." They remained in the shadows and it occurred to Matt that Mello was nervous. There was still hope. "They are beneath you. They were beneath you six years ago and they\'re hardly worth the scum between your toes now. Why are you even bothering with them?"



Mello stepped out into the wide avenue and approached the bouncers with a wave of his voucher. Matt ran to keep pace and they entered together. Even if the years hadn\'t slimmed, fattened, marked, shaped or changed hair colours so far as to hinder recognition, it was easy to spot the geniuses in the room. They were the ones actually looking at the art. Everyone else was there to see and be seen, congregating as close as possible to the celebrity flavour of the month and calling to Linda in loud, pretentious voices. The artist hadn\'t seen them, but others had. Around the room, there were patches of alertness. It was Matt that they had noticed, with his red hair and stark stripes; the last time any of them had seen Mello, he had been several feet shorter, habitually covered up in a too-big jumper and baggy black jeans that piled over his shoes and scuffed at the heel. Slight and effeminately pretty, ugly only in his behaviour and fiery outbursts. But Mello didn\'t wait for them to work it out, he lowered his hood and unzipped his jacket. His presense radiated out in waves.



"Linda! How lovely to see you again!" Mello strode between the famous couple monopolizing the woman, seemingly oblivious to their disgruntled stares and the sneering faces they pulled to those witnessing it. Linda looked up, a fixed smile ready on her face, but it froze and she turned ashen. Mello wrapped his arms around her in a bear-hug and kissed her cheek, before leaning in to hiss in her ear. "You gave my picture to Kira, you bitch." Her breathing caught and her frightened gaze flew to silently beseech Matt. Mello let her go. He said loud enough for the whole room to hear. "Thought we\'d support our favourite artist. So proud of you, Linda."



Mello took a glass of champagne from a passing tray with a thank you to the waiter and sashayed towards the back of the room. There had been no dip in the buzz of the society there, but most eyes were watching him now. People hissing, \'who is that?\', into each other\'s ears, eyes giving him the once over, twice over and many more. He was too confident, too completely there, even in the presense of the great and the good. There was an inherent hint that everyone should know him, but nobody did. He smelt like A-list to those with noses attuned to such things. Linda watched him too, her hand fluttering to her heart. She caught Matt\'s arm and clung to it. "Mail, stop him, please."



Matt\'s eyes flickered to those in earshot and whispered in her ear, "You\'ve just proved that you really were too stupid for Wammy\'s. Kira might be dead, but Death Notes exist. Never give away his picture or my name."



Mello had reached Nathalie, though she had turned her back on him as soon as he was identified. "Nat!" He stood coyly in front of her. "I\'m still alive. Sorry." He smiled, as he deftly communicated that he had read the thread that she had started. "But it might make your day to see that I was nearly burned alive." Mello brushed back his long, blond hair to reveal the scars on his face. "Got me halfway down my arm and on my chest and back too. Hurt like a bitch and still does." He shrugged. "Will that do?"



Nathalie sighed and held out her arms. "Mello, I\'m sorry. I shouldn\'t have written that."



He stepped into them and hugged her. Into her ear, he whispered. "Truth? I\'m glad you did. I got to read a lot of home truths."



"God, Mihael." She kissed his unblemished ear. "You\'ve changed in more ways than one."



Mello patted her back and stepped back, turning to crouch at the side of the armchair behind him. The tiny woman sitting in it was squirting an inhaler into her mouth, puffing with the onset of an asthma attack. "Lamond. I\'m scaring you and I\'m sorry. I just wanted to let you know that you look very beautiful." He placed a hand on her stick-thin arm and, as he had watched various adults do during their childhood, softly began counting for her to match her breathing and to calm. "One... two... three... it\'s alright... four... five... six..." By the time he reached twenty-four, she was breathing unhindered and staring at him with wide eyes. "I\'ve been a complete bastard to you and I regret it. You\'re a stunningly beautiful woman, Lamond, and I was just jealous." He reached in to kiss her cheek, aware that there were people behind him.



The Wammy House forumers were there en masse in the uncertain defence of their weakest member. Inwardly, Mello smiled. That had been just as he\'d planned. He turned, extracted chocolate from his pocket and bit it off, surveying them. It was awkward, no-one quite knowing what to do, as the blond cocked his head, held the chocolate between his teeth and raised his arms out to the sides. The stance and the stare said it all. \'Here I am, crucify me.\' There was a movement from the back, coming through, and Matt appeared at his side. He did nothing, just leaned against the wall between two paintings, a few inches from Mello\'s outstretched arm. Jonny called out, "Mello, don\'t ruin this for Linda. She\'s worked so hard to make it happen."



Mello snickered and his left arm folded in to collect the chocolate from his mouth. The right caught hold of Matt\'s jacket collar and became the precursor to a kiss on the lips. Just long enough to confirm the rumours, just short enough not to be uncomfortable. Matt smirked and scratched his head, the others exchanged telling glances. Mello handed the glass of champagne to him, then span away to approach Luigi. His voice lowered. "At one time, I thought you were a rival. You were always the better person and I\'m sorry I put you through Hell. I thought you were going to beat me in the Sciences and I was just desperate enough to become a sadistic wanker to you."



Luigi\'s jaw dropped. "You thought I would beat you in the rankings!"



"Yes." Mello\'s gaze dipped to the floor. "Especially Physics." He gestured hopelessness and his voice rose just enough for those around to hear him. "I know me coming in here and saying sorry doesn\'t make it alright, but I wanted you to know that. It might help in your therapy." There were sharp intakes of breath all around. "Yes, I read it. I\'ve already thanked Nathalie. I needed to read that. Jonny, I\'m not here to ruin Linda\'s thing. I\'m here because you lot are all here and some of you needed to hear an apology from me. Plus we have a new house and Linda\'s drawings always take my breath away." His gaze met Linda\'s, as she stood half-panicked in the midst of her peers. She visibly shrank. "You are neglecting your guests, Linda. Don\'t worry, I\'m not going to break your heart."



"And yet," Jonny stepped forward, towering over Mello, "you are already making a scene, Mihael. Why don\'t you just run along home? We aren\'t children anymore and trust me, I have no problem wringing your scrawny neck. Understand me?"



Matt spoke calmly, "Morta alla Francia, Italia anela. You really are too stupid to live, Jonny, but you\'re too far below him for him to bother."



The tall man sneered, translating easily, "Death to France, this is Italy\'s cry? You haven\'t said a word to me in twenty years and when you do you come out with this crap?"



Mello snickered. "You didn\'t even get that. He was talking to me." He winked at Matt and mouthed, \'don\'t worry\'. "But you\'d have to have the intelligence to work it out." He moved closer and hissed, "Capisco." Jonny had gone very still. Sweat broke out on his reddening face. Mello watched him with a little smile. "Confusing, isn\'t it? You\'re not even French." He shrugged and one arm snaked up around Jonny\'s neck. "Let\'s kiss and make up." It was only peck, but the larger man looked ready to break. Mello stepped away as if nothing untoward had happened. "So, you\'re going out with Linda?" Everyone stared. Linda jolted, then glared at Jonny. He pushed past and left the gallery. "Jonny didn\'t breathe a word. But it\'s obvious."



"Matt, will you please take him out of my gallery? If we were ever friends, do this for me, please?" Linda spoke steadily, her eyelashes edged with dewdrops, her gaze taking in the rest of the room. Surprisingly, the exchange didn\'t appear to be making a dent in the party, though people still occasionally peered over to try and identify the star. Her eyes found Matt\'s and held the contact. Her words pointed, "Remember when it wasn\'t \'game over\'? Remember, Mail? Please."



Matt\'s head bowed. "I remember." His head stayed down. "I\'m sorry. This one is out of my hands. He\'s here to make amends."



Linda crossed to his side. "Mail, I saved your life. Please."



Mello stood rooted to the spot and he could see, in the shuffling and awkward gazes of his peers, that they all knew something that he did not. The edges of the room went black around him, like he was falling along an horizontal hole. Lamond\'s hand crept into his and Mello turned to look at the skeletal woman. She peered up at him with huge eyes and tugged gently, until he bent down for her to whisper in his ear. "He took a lot of pills after you left. Linda walked him around the garden all night and he was alright. That\'s all I know."



"Thank you." Mello knew that the shock was showing on his face. There was a morbid curiosity on the faces of those watching. He took a deep breath. "I came in peace. Linda, you sank lower than I ever could. Matt, are you ready to go?" Matt raised his head, his expression scathing. He pushed past Linda and rejoined Mello, knocking back the champagne as he went. He didn\'t say a word, just stood there with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, staring at a point in the middle distance. "He was right. I thought he was just trying to stop me coming. I was wrong when we were children. I treated many of you abominably and that was wrong. But that was over six years ago. None of you know a thing about what we did. You aren\'t worth knowing." He squeezed Lamond\'s thin back and moved away from her, pressing through the group to reach the celebrities on the other side.



"Mello." It was Deontic who spoke up, as reserved now as she had been at Wammy\'s. "You are here and you are calmer. There\'s only one explanation for that and that is that you achieved your goal. You were always so single-minded about it. We owe you a debt."



The blond turned and met her eyes. He nodded once, and smiled, but the recognition had flashed like lightening through his psyche and his gaze bespoke that fact. He whispered, "Thank you." Then the pair of them left the gallery.