Mello as a teenager is possibly one of the funniest things I have ever written a point of view from. And I have written a story from the point of view of a three-legged cat, so that is saying something. His outlook on the world is just so skewed :D

As usual, this is the worst time possible for me to be starting a new multi-chapter fic. Ah well. I've just got used to the fact that that's when the plot bunnies want to bite me.

I don't own anything, don't hit me.

Okay. This is me. Mello. Writing.

I know, right?

There's a big story behind this, I promise you. I didn't just start writing for the hell of it. It's not like this is a diary or something. I'm not a girl. And don't ask Matt for confirmation of that, because he won't tell you the truth. It's not my fault I have such an exquisite figure.

Jealous bitch.

But anyway, like I was saying. This is not a diary. This is a series of important notes that I want to leave behind. In case I die or something. Yeah. 'Cause trust me, this is gonna be the most important damn thing you've ever read in your life.

Ready? Grab a seat or something.

...This is how to beat Near.

Just a little FYI...

I HATE NEAR.

Like, I HATE NEAR.

Like... I really HATE NEAR.

I hate Near so much that I'm not even gonna refer to him as 'Near' anymore. He doesn't deserve that privilige in my beautiful shiny book of notes chronicalling the awesomeness of me. Instead, I shall refer to him as... 'gnat'. Yeah. Gnat.

Back on topic, this book will carefully document the various methods I shall use to get rid of the gnat once and for all. And why, I hear you cry, why do I want to dispose of the gnat? If that's what you're thinking, obviously you haven't been listening properly.

I HATE HIM.

Aside from that, though, there is a very serious reason why I must quickly remove the gnat from life... or, at least, from the number one spot. And that reason is this: in thirteen days, L is coming to Wammy's. It's just a casual drop-in, we've been assured. Nothing to be worried about. Like a visit from a friend, Roger told us. Pfft. As if he knows about that. His total friend count is less than one.

Anyhow...

THIS IS INCREDIBLY SIGNIFICANT. IF L SEES ME AT NUMBER TWO, HE'LL NEVER TAKE ME SERIOUSLY AGAIN AND MY LIFE MIGHT ACTUALLY BE OVER AND L WOULD HATE ME AND I'D BE THAT PATHETIC KID WHO DOES NOTHING BUT SIT IN THE CORNER EATING AND GETTING FAT-

So you see? This time, it's on. It's serious. That gnat's not gonna know what hit him. 'Cause I'm gon' be so goddamn smart that...

Well, yeah, I can't actually think of a consequence. Maybe he'll explode or something. That would be fucking awesome. If messy.

...Matt's started reading over my shoulder, and he's being a bitch, yet again. Yeah, so I've been stuck at number two for who knows how many years. Yeah, this is maybe my eleventh or twelfth attempt to murder/kill Near (yeah, I know they mean the same thing, okay? Give the genius some leeway here), and they've never been successful. But this time... I'm going to carefully record all methods used as my life's work. Like... like those autobiographies that only get published after the author's death. Then I will be praised. PRAISED, I TELL YOU, PRAISED.

So read carefully. 'Cause one day, if I don't succeed, you're gonna need this information. If I die in this process, you're really gonna need this information, 'cause the gnat's always gonna be an interfering bastard, and then you're gonna feel my pain when he inteferes with you, and then you're gonna thank me for writing this all down.

I entrust this to you, reader. Unless you're the gnat himself, in which case, how the fuck did you get hold of this, you creep? You think it's normal to sneak around in people's underwear drawers, huh?

Back to my point... I shall show you how to beat Near and take over the world in thirteen days.

(Footnote: If you are presently wondering who this 'L' is... then get the fuck out of my room. And my life. And the universe. And blow yourself up on some strange little planet that nobody can reach. Otherwise, I might just have to kill you with this fork, my pillowcase, a large telephone, and a jar of pasta sauce.)

13 Days Until L Arrives

How to Beat Near, Method #1
Post him to Israel

Attempt #1

As it turns out, you cannot buy envelopes larger than eleven by fifteen inches at the post office. This is absolutely ridiculous. I spent about twenty-five minutes explaining quite patiently to the clerk at the counter that however much of a midget Near may be, there was no way he was gonna fit in an envelope that size. He, in return, was quite rude. There was really no need to call security (I didn't even know they had security at a post office) and drag me out by force. I only smashed three possibly-valuable things (again, how valuable can they be in a post office?), and obviously he wasn't man enough to take a punch if he got one.

But anyway, after that unnecessary behaviour, I was still envelope-less, so I decided to make one for myself. Couldn't be so hard, right? I mean, envelopes are basically paper and that sticky stuff you lick at the top.

First, though, before I could do any envelope-construction, I had to figure out what sort of size I was going for. So I nicked Roger's tapemeasure and a pen and started trying to measure the gnat.

I asked my partner-in-crime Matt to help me on this highly important endeavour. He said, "I can't get involved in your daily insanity right now, Mels, I've almost beaten the Johto League. Lance is a bitch."

My 'daily insanity'? Charming.

Looks like Agent Mello will have to go it alone this time.

Okay. So when you measure people, you always stand them against the wall and mark the spot on the wall where they finish, right? So when I found Near, shuffling along in his weird little way with a bag of books on his back (nerd) that is precisely what I did.

"Stand against the wall."

"...Excuse me?"

"Stand against the wall."

"I don't quite understand."

My nostrils flared. "Stand. Against. The fucking. Wall!"

Near gave me his creepy blank look. For a genius, he's really fucking thick. Reasonably irritated by this time (don't know if you've noticed, but I've got a pretty short fuse), I repeated my request, got nothing, and so just gave up and shoved him into the brickwork.

The little twit-head'd be useless in any sort of fight situation. He completely froze up. Didn't even struggle. I held his shoulders in place with one arm while I got the cap off the pen, but just as I was leaning past him to mark the wall, I heard a squeal.

"Oh my God! Oh my God, Mello, what are you doing?"

Annoyed, I whirled around. Little surprise, it was the human aggravation that is Linda. I won't say much in the way of introducing her, but she is a girl and she thinks that she is going to be L because her name begins with L. That is all.

While I was distracted, Near took the opportunity to run for it. What a mouse - although, I have to say, the way he runs is hilarious.

"What are you on about?" I snapped at Linda. "Look what you did! He got away!"

Linda's eyes went all wide, and she clapped her hands to her mouth. "Eww!" she wailed in a slightly muffled voice, and then she, too, ran for it. What can I say? I'm a terrifying individual.

However, it was only then that I realised how... um... comprimising... the position Near and I were in may have looked at that particular moment if you were looking at us in a certain way with an extremely twisted mind and no sense of the personalities of the two people in the position.

I'll be blunt: it looked like I was molesting the kid.

...I think I want to throw up.

Did I mention that Linda's also the biggest loudmouth in the entire of Wammy's?

Now the whole orphanage thinks I want to screw a gnat.

Fuck. My. Life.

Attempt #2

After Matt spent thirty-seven minutes and eighteen seconds (yes, I counted - shoot me) pissing himself laughing at my issues involving Linda and the gnat, he finally calmed down enough to inform my that I could have just stolen Near's measurements from Roger's office.

Once again.

Fuck. My. Life.

See, this is why I need someone running around behind me telling me important things like this. Namely, Matt, who, at this moment, has begun laughing again. Maybe I don't need him so much after all.

Breaking into Roger's office is child's play for me. Actually, it is for everyone at Wammy's, considering our status as genii. I'm just the only one who ever bothers to go through with it. I sometimes wonder if Roger misses any of the stuff I borrow. And yes, I do borrow it - how dare you question the awesome truth-telling of Mello? It has always been my intention to return every one of Roger's possessions to him, it's just... uh, yeah.

Anywho, so I broke into Roger's office like a boss (without Matt, who, until I have deigned to grant him forgiveness, will be known as The Bitch. He gets capital letters because I like him marginally more than the gnat). I'm such a ninja. The documents concerning all of us kiddiwinks are in the second drawer in Roger's desk. He thinks he's impenetrable because he locks it, but the key's on the fucking windowsill.

I sometimes wonder why he tries.

Near's documents happen to be next to mine and Matt's, as we have the great joy of being the letter next to his.

NAME: Classified (I don't even know why they bother with that. Everyone's name is classified. Or maybe everybody's real name is, in actual fact, 'Classified'... That'd put an interesting spin on things.)

KNOWN AS: Near (I was tempted to scribble this out and put 'gnat', but a good ninja never leaves traces.)

GENDER: Male (Debatable.)

DATE OF BIRTH: August 24th 1991

OCCUPATION: Detective (No shit. It's a wonder they don't put 'SPECIES: Human'. Then again, that might be a little embarrassing, 'cause I'm convinced Near is actually an alien.)

HEIGHT: 5"

Aha. That's the one I'm after. Jeez, he really is tiny. I'm a whole seven inches taller than him. Well, that'll save paper, anyway. Yup, rescuing the planet, that's me.

I was just going to casually stroll out when something very unexpected happened.

Roger walked in.

Whoa. That's never happened before.

"Mello?" he said. Bless him, he looked surprised. "What are you doing here?"

I went for the truth. "Rifling through your paperwork."

Roger looked at me, looked at the paper I was holding, and gave a long, heavy sigh that made his face sag in a very amusing way. I'll definitely be imitating that one later. Then he drew up a chair and said, "Sit down, Mello."

Oh, God.

'Sit down, Mello' is a phrase I've heard Roger use about ten million times before. He always says it in this slow, grave voice, and it's always followed by a long, serious, deeply boring monologue about how he wishes I'd behave better. 'I don't know what to do with you, Mello' is one other such frequently overused Roger-phrase, and 'Mello, I wish you'd put that intelligence of yours to better use' is another one of his favourites. Not forgetting 'Mello, put down the knife', of course.

Huh. Basically, I'm so smart that he doesn't want to punish me properly in case it stifles the creative juices, or some crap like that.

"Mello," he said this time, prising Near's papers out of my hands and gesturing towards the chair. I sat, 'cause I'm that obedient. "I've been wanting to have a chat with you about... certain things that have arisen today regarding you and Near..."

Oh, for God's sake. If he starts this, I'm gonna strangle something.

"There have been several rumours circulating about how you... may have attempted some form of intimacy with Near in the corridors, which he resisted. Now, Mello, I just want to let you know that there is nothing wrong with having these feelings for people of the same gender - I realise that your faith may try to lead you to believe otherwise, but forgive me for saying that on this count, those teachings are wrong. However, what is more wrong than anything is trying to force others into performing acts that they have no desire to; that is..."

Yadda yadda yadda. I was sort of asleep by this time, somewhere between amused and bored. What was most funny about this particular 'chat' of Roger's was the fact that everyone at Wammy's was already one hundred percent aware that I'm gay. I thought even Roger knew. I'm that damn obvious. I mean, I dye and condition my hair. And clearly he has not noticed that I walk around wearing nail varnish. Does that not scream 'gay'? I thought so. Apparantly not.

I was still kind of grossed out that he thought I wanted to be gay with Near, but still.

Speaking of Near, I had more important things to be getting on with. Envelopes don't make themselves.

"Mello- where are you going?" Roger said, startled, as I got up.

"Back to my room, probably," I answered. "Sorry, Roger - actually, that's a lie, I'm not sorry at all - but I already know I'm fucking gay, I didn't molest Near, and quite frankly I could molest a goat, and it would be more pleasurable than molesting him."

I left.

Poor granddad gets no respect.

Attempt #3

There was no way Matt was getting out of helping me with this one. Not if he wishes to continue living in close proximity to me. His excuse this time was "I've got to study.", which, if you know even a micro-molecule of Matt's personality, is the most pathetic reason for not wanting to help me constuct a giant envelope ever concieved. Jeez. Anyone would think it was a weird thing to do.

The real reason, of course, is that Matt is just a tad lazy.

...Understatement of the fucking century.

I told Matt this, and then I snapped his DS in half. Now he is lying on the floor of our (as it stands) shared bedroom (after I pulled him off his bed by the leg), refusing to get up until "you fix my fucking DS, bastard!" I don't know what his problem is. I did the bitch a favour. His concentration'll skyrocket now he hasn't got that thing bleeping away in his ear.

Although, while I remain here, an excellent distraction still exists.

Clearly, Matt doesn't agree.

"For fuck's sake, I'll fix it after we make the envelope." I rolled my eyes.

It's all lies. That thing is smashed up beyond even my genius skills.

Matt gave me a look like he didn't believe me, narrowed his eyes, and then - huzzah! - got up. "I hope you know that I am one of those goddamn awesome friends that you'll find nowhere else," he informed me.

I squealed and hugged him (I think he stopped breathing, I squeezed him so tight). "Of course you are, Matty! Thank you! You're my bestest friend in the whole wide world!"

...And Roger thought I wasn't gay.

As I suspected, envelopes are not all too difficult to construct. Especially when you have a slave. I mean a Matt.

ME: Fetch me some paper!

MATT: Get it yourself!

ME: Fetch me the paper, slave!

MATT: Gah-! Get off me!

ME: Fetch the paper or you're going in the cupboard!

MATT: Gwah! M-mmfh-! Let go- *sounds of general pain*

ME: PAPER!

MATT: Fine, I'll get you your bloody paper!

ME: Five feet of it, please~

Needless to say, Matt spent the majority of the session calling me a bitch under his breath. It's nothing I don't already know. I'm quite proud of my bitchiness, thank you.

Anyway, it wasn't long before we (yes, we) had finished. It was quite a work of art, actually. We used double-sided sellotape for the sticky bit at the top and decided to hope nobody tried to lick it. I addressed it ("ISRAEL. Please do not return.") and stood back to admire my work.

Only problem was that it was huge. Five feet doesn't sound like much when you're talking about a human (slash gnat), but when you're trying to subtly move a five-foot envelope across a busy orphanage, it's a whole different story. People kept giving us "WTF" looks. I glared at them. Matt hid behind his goggles.

"What about my DS?" he kept whining.

"I'll fix it later," I assured him. What I meant, of course, was that I would nick his money and buy a new one.

Hmm. Does that make me a bad friend? Breaking one of my best friend's most valued possesions, and then stealing from him to make up for it, when I had promised him that I would fix it myself...?

Yeah, I guess that does make me a pretty bad friend.

...I'll steal the money from Roger, instead.

Eventually, we reached Near's room. Holding the envelope with one hand, I peered into the door (which was very helpfully ajar - thank you, cleaning ladies) like a ninja, affirmed from my burning eyes and gagging reflex that I had seen the gnat's face, and got ready to charge.

"Ready, Matt?" I whispered.

"Uh, you haven't told me what you're going to do, but if it's what I think it is, then-"

I had got bored of listening to him speak, so; "AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHH!"

A fierce five minutes of tussling ensued, in which I attempted to tie Near up, Near's room became as trashed as I could possibly make it, and, worst of all, the envelope got ripped. Matt, to his credit, tried to help me stuff the five feet of gnat into the envelope, once he had gotten over his initial bemusement.

But it was all in vain, because as soon as I took my hand away from his mouth, Near shrieked for Roger.

He's such a snitch. But, jeez, for a midget, he's certainly got a pair of lungs on him.

Now I'm in the Quiet Room by myself (I took the bullet for Matt and said it was all my idea - am I an incredible friend, or am I an incredible friend?). I'm supposed to be 'reflecting on what I've done'. Mind you... Roger said something about "I told you molesting was wrong!" before he locked the door.

...Oh, shit. This will not go down well on the "Mello's a gang-raping pervert!" front.

Fuck the Quiet Room. I'm gonna make as much noise AS FUCKING POSSIBLE.

Until tomorrow, loyal conquesters.