Title: Distorted Image

Summary: The horror stories circulated, but Mello was never one to believe in ghosts... That is, until he encounters an elusive redheaded boy.

Disclaimer: I don't own DN, and this idea is hardly original.

Author's Note: Happy Halloween.

…

"Some say that -on Halloween night- you can see his ghost roaming the halls."

"Cloaked like a convict. Hair as red as blood. Eyes as green as the ivy growing over his tombstone. Fingers long and forever twitching, always itching to latch onto something tangible, though he knows it is futile because death has overtaken him."

"Some say he attends classes, always sitting in the back. He watches and waits to be noticed, but the teacher never calls on him."

"I hear, that if -"

"I've heard enough of these lame brain stories," a blonde boy said, voice elevated in a show of agitation. "There is no such things as ghosts or spirits or any of that mumbo jumbo garbage. I'm tired of these stupid horror stories that you all repeat year after year- Nothing changes. There is no ghost. And I'm tired of hearing about how 'Matty DeadBoy' can be seen on Halloween night. About how he's a reclusive spirit looking for the right person to reveal himself to. And about whatever the fuck you guys rant about. I'm tired of hearing it, and the next person who says a word about this stupid story is going to get an ass-kicking!" After his rant, the blonde skeptic hoisted his backpack over his shoulder and shoved his way past his peers, heading to his locker and murmuring his discontent.

Once he arrived at locker 201, he dropped his bag at his feet and started on his combination lock, turning the dial as he had done flawlessly for the past couple months that school had been in session. But to his surprise and dismay, the lock didn't open on his first try. Nor his second. Or even his third. He huffed in annoyance, vaguely noting that his fellow schoolmates were shutting their lockers and sauntering off to class, having already collected their books.

Silently cursing, he set the dial back to zero, took a deep breath, and proceeded slower, being sure to hit every number with precision and care.

At last, the internal gears lined up and the lock popped open. He quickly tore it from the sert and opened his locker. He shoved his backpack into his locker and retrieved his books before slamming the door shut, not bothering to lock it again.

Juggling his books and stumbling through the emptied hall, he caught a glimpse of something- rather, someone. "Late for class?" the blonde mused aloud. "Me too. Locker troubles," he added needlessly, eyes settled on a pale redhead. "You new?" he asked conversationally, continuing to walk and noting that he and the redhead seemed to be heading to the same class. "I'm Mello," he introduced, reaching the end of the hall and opening the classroom door to allow himself and the redhead in.

The redhead silently nodded in a gesture of thanks before scurrying in and sitting in the back row. Mello followed, taking a seat next to him and offering a wry smile when the teacher paused a lecture in favor of giving a disapproving glare.

"Well, Mihael, why are you late this time?" the teacher asked, glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose.

To this, Mello shrugged and situated his books. "Had trouble with my locker. Then I ran into a new student, and-" he turned in his seat to point to the redhead, but the teacher simply went back to her lecture about -whatever she was talking about.

Mello was mildly bothered by the redhead not getting formally introduced to the class, but that was partially because his own tardiness was called upon, and he didn't care for being the center of attention (contrary to popular belief).

As class droned on, Mello noticed that the redhead fidgeted, bored and uncaring of what was being taught.

"Hey, what class do you have next?" Mello whispered, leaning over so that the redhead could hear him. He didn't expect an answer, but he smiled brightly when he received one anyways.

"History, I think," the redhead whispered back.

"What's your name?" Mello asked, glad for the distraction.

"M-"

Just then, the bell rang. In a haste, students' chairs began to scrape, books slammed, the teacher rattled off last minute details about an upcoming project, and everyone was filing out of the room.

The blonde teen was in no particular hurry, taking his time in gathering his things, then turning to address his redheaded companion once more, only to find that he was no longer there.

'Must've left already,' Mello thought to himself, deciding that he'd see the redhead around sometime later. Before exiting the classroom, he stopped at the teacher's desk and offered a smile. "I'm sorry for being late, ma'am, really. But I got stopped in the hall by the new kid, and-" his explanation was halted by an exaggerated sigh.

"Ugh, Mihael, please don't do this today."

"But, Mrs.-"

"Mihael, just stop. There are no new students, and there hasn't been since-"

"But I met him today! He's about this tall-" Mello held up his hand to indicate height. "And he has red hair, and- He was in class; he sat next to me and everything!"

"Mihael-Mello-WhateverYourNameIs, please just get to your next class." With that, the teacher waved a hand in dismissal, and a very confused Mello bowed his head and trudged out of the room.

He had PE and supposed a bit of exercise would do him good.

However, before reaching his destination, he made a detour to the lavatory. It was quiet when he entered; his footsteps echoed. He caught his reflection in the mirror above the sink before heading over. Closing his eyes, he blindly reached for the taps, turning on the water and rinsing his hands off before cupping them full of water and splashing his face. "Everything is okay," he said to himself, taking a deep breath and trying to adjust to an unwarranted anxiety that began to sweep over him. A chill crept up his spine and he shivered.

Then a familiar voice reached his ears. "You're going to be late for your next class, y'know."

The voice caused Mello's eyes to snap open in alarm, and he frantically looked around, searching for the source of the voice but finding himself to be alone. "H-Hello?" he called cautiously, his voice echoing off the hollow expansions of the tiled room. "Hey, anyone in here?"

When he received no answer, he tried to calm down but the anxiety stayed with him.

And just when he decided to go on and head to PE, he caught his reflection once more, and he froze. Because, in the mirror, standing next to his reflection was an achingly familiar redheaded boy.

"You're late," the boy said, smiling innocently.

Mello could feel the blood draining from his body -his face whitening uncharacteristically- as he tried and failed to recover from the waves of fear and nausea that were upon him. He clenched his hands into fists and slowly turned away from the mirror, confirming his sneaking suspicion that he was in fact physically alone.

But he knew what he saw and heard.

He had to get out of there.

But he had to know something first. "Is- Is your name Matt?" Mello asked, voice sounding more confident than he felt.

In response, the mirror fogged and letters appeared one by one.

'They Called Me Mail.'

…

/Not much comp time, but I wanted to do something for Halloween. I'd like to do more for this fic because I like the idea of Mello and GhostMATT. Plus, almost nothing happened in this chapter, so it just makes sense to do more. -Review./