Disclaimer: Mello's Favorite Reject and CatatonicVanity do not own DN or anything referenced.

A/N: So... I shouldn't be posting a new story. This is co-authored between CV and MFR. The idea belongs to MFR and is amazing and brilliant. Now, about Terminal and CR-R (to those of you that read those) I've hit a block. Serious writer's block on those two fronts. I don't know when I'll get my inspiration back. Sorry! That being said, review!

Mail Jeevas, better known as Matt, was late. He was usually late, and his chronic tardiness was often overlooked by his German teacher. But even he wouldn't be able to overlook how late he was today.

The sound of jeers met Matt's ears, making him look over. In an alleyway, he saw a little albino boy surrounded by tall, buff kids. Matt looked at his watch and swore, growling as he dropped his bag at the entrance to the alley and took off running.

"Oi! Leave him alone, you overgrown assholes!" Matt shouted. When all eyes turned to him Matt quickly deduced that he had five opponents and that the albino he was rescuing couldn't fight for shit. The boy's white hair was matted with dirt and blood, his left eye was blackening and bruises were beginning to form. His white clothes were ripped and stained.

Matt was soon surrounded. He circled with his hands raised defensively, watching his opposition carefully. He heard shuffling behind him and lashed out a backwards kick, smirking when it connected with the attacker's stomach. He came around in a right hook that was intercepted. An uppercut met his stomach, causing him to double over gasping. Then a jab hit between his shoulder blades, sending him forward into another uppercut that was supposed to connect with his chin. Instead, it caught him under the nose.

There was a sickening snap, a gasp, and blood started spurting over the assailant's hands. Matt fell to the ground, his body oddly resembling that of a ragdoll. One of his attackers' nudged him over with his foot, flipping the redhead.

Strangled gasps broke from all five at the sight. Matt's mouth was open, as were his eyes, once vibrant and now dull. His nose was broken in many places, crooked and shaped oddly while gushing blood. The cartilage in the bridge of his nose had been shoved into the frontal lobe of his brain.

Mail Jeevas died on May 5, 2006 at 9:35 am. His killers ran with their figurative tails between their legs, trying to wipe the blood off on the walls.

The albino left behind crawled to the body, checking for a pulse, though he knew his actions were in vain. When he felt nothing, he held his fingers over the redhead's paling lips, feeling for breath. Then he reached out and closed the dull green eyes.

Nate Rivers rifled around in Matt's vest pocket, extracting a cell phone and dialing 911. He explained the situation in a stoic voice, requesting emergency vehicles. He then went to the redhead's bag, looking for some form of identification. He found sloppily written school papers and was able to make out 'Mail Jeevas'.

Emergency vehicles arrived. Mail was loaded onto a stretcher to be taken to the hospital for an autopsy. Nate got a ride in the police car to the station, where he told his story. A sketch artist by the name of Linda sat in the room with him while he described each of his attackers. When she was finished, she laid the papers out before the white haired boy, who nodded.

"Yes, that's what they looked like. This is the one that delivered the fatal blow."

"Thank you Mr. Rivers. We will be calling you for more questions, so please be expecting that." Nate nodded and took his leave.

...

"Mello, I have a favor to ask of you." Nate's blonde friend and roommate groaned and hung his head over the back of the couch.

"What is it Sheepy?" he asked, dubbing the cocaine haired boy affectionately.

"There is a funeral in four days. I wish you to come with me." Mello sat up straight and looked around.

"Who died?"

"Mail Jeevas." Mello cocked his head to the side.

"Who the fuck is that?" he asked. Nate sighed and sat down on the floor, pulling his leg up to his chest.

"He's the boy that was killed yesterday defending me. I'd never met him, and so I shouldn't know anyone there, but I would appreciate it if Mello came with me to pay respects." Mello bit his lower lip, letting his head fall on the arm of the couch. He'd been to his fair share of funerals and if he could avoid it, he didn't want to go to another. But... This Jeevas character did deserve respect.

"Yeah, I'll go. Do you have anything to wear?" Nate nodded. "M'kay. What time?"

"I believe the viewing is to be at 2:00 and the funeral at 3:00." Mello sighed.

"Alright."

...

"I'm terribly sorry for your loss," mumbled faceless people as they walked by Mr. Jeevas. The man had tear tracks on his cheeks and his eyes were red and puffy. No one particularly caught his eye and he ignored everyone, until a white haired child took his hand.

"Hello Nate," the man whispered, voice cracking. Nate shook his hand gently and nodded, as did the well dressed blonde behind him. Somehow, even if he didn't really know either, the gesture was more comforting than condolences.

Mr. Jeevas left eventually, exhausted and emotionally drained. But when he got home, he saw Mail's laptop on the couch where he'd left it and an idea struck him. The man went to his study and booted up his expensive, state of the art computer and began typing.