Christmas 2002

They had expected that the interviews with Mr Wammy would have happened in Roger\'s office, but they weren\'t. They were in an unused bedroom up on the top floor, which promptly became strictly out of bounds and guarded by two caretakers. As soon as Matt was taken, Mello paced the floor at the foot of that staircase. It had occurred to him that standing outside Roger\'s office window might provide valuable information about those speaking inside, but there was no way he could, at this late notice, engineer a way to listen upstairs. No-one went upstairs. Mello blinked. The more he considered it, the more intelligent Mr Wammy\'s choice of venue appeared. It seemed that he, or L, anticipated everything that he or the other children thought.



He gave up his pacing and bolted down the corridor to try the second set of stairs. They too were guarded, though he did nearly collide with Mairoo. Mello doubled back and fell into step with the timid Japanese boy. "What did you get?"



"With respect, that is my business, Mello-chan."



"Heh." Mello sniggered, leaning against the wall beside Mairoo\'s bedroom door. He had no plan. He was just there. He really wanted to be a floor above listening to what was being said to Matt. Even though they were best friends, Mello doubted that Matt would tell him. He debated battering it out of him, but then honour might dictate that Mello had to then tell Matt what was said to him too. Mello frowned over his chocolate. He might not mind. It depended what was said. He wouldn\'t know until it was said.



A soft voice carried through the open door. "Would Mello-chan like to come in?"



Mello blinked. In truth, he had forgotten that Mairoo was there. He leaned to see around the doorframe into the teenager\'s room. Mairoo was probably ranked lowest in the house, unless Lamond had slipped again. Mello doubted it. He would have remembered that. Mairoo\'s lowly status though meant that Mello was utterly indifferent to him. He was only a vague threat. Mello didn\'t so much ignore him, as kept him on the periphery of the circles of danger in his mind. Mello wandered into the room, but kept the wall at his back. His quick eyes took in the positions of everything. He moved onto working out what Mairoo valued most. Such things told you a lot about a person.



"You really like chocolate, eh?" Mairoo commented. He was standing by his window. His bed was beside it and he had obviously just pushed his present beneath it. Mello could see the wrapping paper sticking out. Mello nodded quickly, but didn\'t respond. "You scored a good goal earlier."



A sudden smile illuminated Mello\'s face. "Arigato."



Mairoo didn\'t react. He knew that they all knew that he was Japanese, but he had learned over the years not to confirm it. He\'d once dropped vague hints that he was Korean, but no-one bought it. "Mello-chan is always so angry."



"I\'m not, you know." Mello retained his smile. Mairoo was being quite brave. Mello had attacked him before now, though not recently. "Why do you sleep under the window?"



The teenager shrugged. "Sometimes, when I\'m lying on my bed, I see the herons flying past. Magnificent birds. They look big enough to carry us away."



Mello snickered. "You think you can ride a heron?"



Mairoo flinched and didn\'t respond. His head bowed. The atmosphere could have been cut with a knife. There were a few long minutes where neither spoke, the silence punctuated only with the munching sounds that Mello made with his chocolate. Mairoo\'s bare foot edged towards his present, half-concealed under the bed, and he stroked it with his toe. It was obvious that he regretted inviting Mello into his room. Mello didn\'t move and didn\'t speak. Eventually, it was Mairoo who whispered. "I don\'t think I can ride a heron. But, after two years in this place, I\'m inordinarily proud of the fact that my imagination still can."



Mello nodded once and turned to leave. Then, at the doorway, he stopped and without looking back, said, "There\'s a westernly wind today. I bet, if we rode it, the heron would take us east." He snapped off a piece of chocolate and waited.



"Yes." Mairoo\'s voice held no trace of emotion. "I bet it would."



Mello left him and returned to loitering at the foot of the stairs. From his vantage point, he watched Mairoo\'s door shut. It made the corridor very silent and lonely.