Warning: Contains Death Note book seven spoilers

A/N:

Warning: Contains Death Note book seven spoilers.

Death Note and its characters are not mine…If they were…evil grin…But they're not; they belong to the wonderful Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata.

Anyway, first published fic, blah blah blah.

It was the hardest, most painful thing he'd ever done.

It was just too much for Matt to see Mello cry. Mello. Cry. Those words were almost never used in the same sentence, unless, of course, that sentence was "Mello made some poor innocent child cry."

But there he was, tears cascading silently down that perfect, delicate face framed by straw blonde hair.

Mello, without saying a word, had burst into the boys' shared room angrily and had begun to throw his few possessions into a bulky backpack.

"Uh…Mello?" Matt had said after a few minutes of this rushed packing. There had been no verbal reply, but instead a weary eight-days-short-of-a-fifteen-year-old collapsing on the floor.

The tears all rushed out at once, the boy not making a sound.

Matt sat on his bed awkwardly. He'd never been good with emotions, let alone other people's. "Um…what…what happened?"

"L…He's…" Mello took a deep breath to steady his hoarse voice before looking directly at Matt with perfect composure and saying, "L's dead. Kira got him." The blonde looked so empty. It killed Matt.

The redhead understood the tears now. It was L. Mello hardly ever cried; Matt could only recall a few times, and they all had to do with great physical pain beyond his slightly masochistic limits. But now, for the first time, as an overly proud teenager, did Mello sit on the floor and openly allow hot, salty tears to escape his eyes and fall down his face because of emotional hurt. (In truth, this wouldn't have surprised most people; everyone said Mello was emotional. But really, "emotional" meant "gets angry a lot," not "cries all the time.")

It was L. Mello admired him. Mello wanted to be him. Mello loved him.

The gangly, black haired young man had lived at the Wammy House until age 17, when the orphanage's founder, Quallish Wammy, decided it was time for him to begin solving cases professionally, not just for fun. While the children his own age distanced themselves from him, the younger orphans adored L. He had big goofy eyes, feathery black hair, pale skin, and impeccable taste in food (according to the little ones).

Among these many admirers of L was the little blonde, Mello, ranking number two in line for the world's greatest detective's successor. Near was number one, of which Mello was extremely jealous. L was quite fond of both Near and Mello, Near being quiet and much like himself, and Mello being fiery and emotive and energetic.

But L was the only person Mello had ever liked who was "better" than he. Actually, L was the only person he really cared about aside from his good friend Matt (or so the redhead thought, and thought correctly). And now, he was gone. It was too much.

"So now I'm leaving. I'm getting out of this hellhole," Mello said bluntly, fighting his quavering voice.

"Oh, come on Mels. You can't be serious. Didn't you say that last month when Roger put you in that three day in-room suspension?"

"I'm really going, Matt." Mello put on his heavy jacket and crammed a few more Hershey bars into the backpack. His tears continued to fall silently for the lost detective. At first he was just angry at Kira; then the feeling was replaced with deep monotony as he realized he would never see L again. Mello reached desperately for the familiar anger off of which he thrived. It was returning slowly. Focus…Roger, that bastard. So irritating. Independence…so close. Just out the Wammy House door. Yes, that's it.

Matt realized the blonde might be serious this time. "No…Mello…what are you gonna do out there anyway? How are you gonna get by as a teenager in the real world?"

"You know I'll be fine."

Matt did know, but he kept trying. "Come on, Mello. Roger's not stupid. He'll find you anyway. What's the point of leaving? I mean, I don't like it here either, but we have food and a place to sleep. It's only three or four more years until we really get kicked out."

"Roger knows. I told him after he suggested I work with Near." The blonde had to pause to let his involuntary shudder pass. "He won't come after me. He doesn't like me much."

"He doesn't like any of us much."

"He liked L." The tears had stopped.

"Mello…"

"What."

"Please…just think it over. People like you here." Like me…

"If by people, you mean Lia, then sure. 'People' like me."

"That's not what I meant…" Matt gave up then. It didn't matter to Mello whether people missed him or not. "Fine then. But I have something for you…it was for your birthday, but you can open it now." The redhead reached into his nearby backpack and produced a small box wrapped in newspaper, which he tossed to Mello.

"I'll open it later; I'm in a rush now…Thanks, Matt."

Mello, who had since stopped crying, added the present to his "packed" bundle of clothing and slung the backpack over his shoulder, turning to leave.

"…Mels, wait-"

Mello turned his head towards Matt. "Yeah?"

"I…I'm gonna miss you." Matt kept his eyes on the floor.

"Oh, well…erm…I…" Mello cursed under his breath as his face flushed a little. The blonde rushed out the door to keep the pain at bay. Because the truth was that he would miss Matt too.

It's better this way. It's better away from Roger…better away from Near. Now I can live…my own way.

Matt couldn't just sit there while his best friend abandoned him. There was something he'd always needed to do. This was probably his last chance.

Mello turned sharply at the sound of the orphanage gate clanking some distance behind him.

There stood rain soaked Matt, looking genuinely upset. Mello tried to keep walking. It would be too hard to say goodbye.

"Mello!" Matt ran up to his friend and cut him off by swinging around and standing in front of him, holding the blonde's shoulders firmly. Mello fixed his eyes on the wet pavement. The redhead took one of his friend's gloved hands nervously in his own and used his other to push back a few stands of rain-darkened blonde hair.

All the while, leaning closer and closer…

So please tell me if you liked it and if you want more of the story. Constructive criticism is welcome…I'm not really sure where I want to take this.

And if you were wondering…yes, a makeout scene is coming next.