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Raising Hell	By : High_on_the_Rainbow Category: Death Note > Yaoi-Male/Male > L/Light Views: 2514 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not profit from this nor do I own the Death Note franchise.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Hey, everyone, Rainbow-chan is on a roll! Chapter two is here! Here you see a little more on how the characters interact and their reactions to each other. Some foreshadowing! Also, Matt is here! Sorry, Matt x Mello fans, he's just a friend. I find his reason for therapy most humorous. :)
IMPORTANT INFO: Tokyo's Insane Asylum Schedule
Breakfast starts at 7 AM, Lunch starts at 12 PM and Dinner starts at 5 PM. Meal times run for 30 minutes. Group therapies are 12:30 PM to1:30 PM and 5:30 PM to 6:30 PM. Groups happen every day and any other time people are seen by individual therapists, psychiatrists, or hanging out in the recreation room if not their own rooms or those of other patients. Visiting hours are from 6 PM to 8 PM on weekdays and 3PM to 9 PM on weekends. Near and Mello's school starts at 7 AM and ends at 3 PM. It is a roughly a 10 minute drive directly from their school to the asylum. (It's inner city) Their out-patient therapy is at Tokyo's Insane Asylum in a different wing and goes from 3:30 PM to 6:30 PM.
I didn't feel like making this up, so I wrote how it used to be for me and a friend way back when. If something doesn't add up, please tell me.
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Death Note, but I do own Tomoro, Yuki, Tokomo-san (Near, Matt and Mello's counselor), and Kyoko. I've only had to say it twice and I'm already completely sick of it...
Raising Hell - Chapter two
I admit the brunet looking at me had rather fascinating eyes. They were a honey-like amber, rather stunning, unusual for a Japanese male and quite different from my own obsidian ones, but even more interesting was the feeling behind those eyes of his—the intensity, being able to personally witness all the gears turning in his mind as he tried to gauge me, and perhaps label me. What he is trying to gauge in me is something I could only ponder and guess at; I am... unsure. ...I loathe being unsure.
He will make a wonderful subject. I have never felt so much around anyone other than Near, never had so much raw curiosity overwhelm me... I'm certain it is his eyes; something burning—passionate yet menacing, evil yet justified.
As I watch him I see him look beside himself, seeming to relax; interestingly enough, there is nothing there. After sparing me another quick glance, he stands and heads toward what I assume to be the direction of his room; I remember seeing my room from the rather boring and admittedly short tour Kyoko gave me.
After he is out of sight, I find my mind functioning as if he never left—he is still my mind's focus. I can feel experiments forming in my mind, questions and inquiries already making themselves known, begging to be answered: Where does such a look originate? What is his past? How does the Kira case garner such an expression? What was he looking at when he turned to the right briefly? What is he in for? What is his temperament? What is the best way for dealing with the temperament when discovered? What is the best method for obtaining these answers? Would the given solution get a negative reaction? If so, how to handle it...?
I realize that I am getting slightly ahead of myself, and frankly it is a bit disconcerting. I have never experienced this before... 'Will I ever experience this again...? Probably not. There is an 87% chance this subject is invaluable; I shouldn't do anything that would drive him to harm...I normally don't follow a whim, but I'll make an exception just this once.'
Based on his reaction, he is rather obstinate and stubborn... He will more than likely try to give me hell... There is a 96% chance of it, actually... 'Wait, when did I start using such crude language...?'

'Things in Hell are finally starting to get somewhere...' I cackle with glee. Soon, very soon, phase two of the plan would be possible. As I fly back to Tokyo's Insane Asylum, I think back on the events of my most recent visit back home...
A shinigami with red eyes covering its torso and blue skin looked up as I flew towards him with a look clear impatience. I can't help but get a kick out of the fact that after all these centuries I can still get under Tomoro's skin.
"Ryuk, where the hell have you been?!" He exclaims. Well, someone's not happy.
"Clearly not in hell, but then again wherever you are is pretty hellish. As you know, I haven't been around," I replied, not bothering to hide my underlying message: you walked right into that one. After a look from Tomoro showing his obvious displeasure, I decide to get more serious; I don't want to stay here longer than necessary and Tomoro's incessant bitching loses its entertainment value after a while. "I've been with Yagami Light in the Human World. I thought you were aware of that. That was part of the plan."
"Yes," Tomoro replies, a look of pseudo-contemplation on his face. His many eyes narrow as he pretends to take in my statement. It's no fun at all... His condescending attitude is annoying. It's only fun when I'm the one condescending to others. "I believe it was wasn't it? But I do have a reason for calling you here; why the hell is Light killing so slowly? We shinigami are anxious to get phase two in motion... You know we need him to move faster."
"Yeah, yeah," I sigh. Explaining this to them is going to be so boring, but I really want to get back to the Human World. It's far more entertaining; I have all of eternity to get under Tomoro's skin. "You should know why that is; the fear of Kira in the Human Realm is decreasing the crime rate. It's getting harder to kill at the pace he used to... And fortunately for us, he wants to kill hardened criminals, like I planned—we need souls that are automatically Hell-bound for this to work. If it'll get you to shut up and stop acting like a bitch in heat, I'll pick up his slack myself. I know what I'm doing."
"Well, regardless, we want to ensure you aren't getting off course," Tomoro says, his many eyes narrowing in suspicion, obviously sore that he couldn't figure this out on his own; hanging around humans has given me a better idea of how things work with them, something Tomoro and the others obviously lack. But he's probably mad about the bitch comment... Oh well. What's he gonna do? Kill me?
"Now, why oh why would I do that? You really have no idea how entertaining this is for me, do you, Tomoro? Well, either way, I have to get back, or else Light will get suspicious; he's a smart human. I'll see ya around," I say with finality as I spread my wings and make my way back to the Human World. 'Things are getting interesting...' I think as I see Tokyo's Insane Asylum come back into view...
I phase through the wall; I know exactly where Light will be at this time—the recreation room. As I seek him out, I find him looking at a new face. The guy doesn't look like much, but if Light was keeping an eye on him and deeming him worthy of interest, then I should probably do the same. If Light sees something in this guy then he might even be a threat; nothing is going to ruin my fun or—Satan forbid—cause my peers to bug me again...

'Why are so many things bugging me today?' My mind was plagued with many bothersome thoughts and problems at the moment, namely my peers, school, and Lawliet.
I really do wish nii-san would stop with his foolishness; doesn't he realize that understanding feelings is a pointless endeavor when we ourselves are without them? It is by far more efficient to be without obvious weaknesses like emotion. We should be trying to bring to rest of humanity to our level instead of lowering ourselves to their standard and trying to save them with the incorporation and understanding of such things; if only Lawliet were as emotionless as people believed him to be. 'L-niisan... why can't you see things the way they were meant to be?'
Why does nii-san insist on feeding this useless fascination with human emotion when we ourselves have been deemed soulless by so many others? Isn't that what we were taught? To live life without feeling, to function on logic alone...? Whammy's Orphanage was kind enough to take us in and teach us all that we know; why was Lawliet going back on what they taught us? 'We clearly have the same goal... why can't we agree on our methods...? I don't want him to drift away from me; he's all I have left... we're brothers...'
As I leave my thoughts for a moment, I find my legs carrying me away from the school and onto the private bus that will take me to Tokyo's Insane Asylum with none other than the blonde terror himself. Predictably, he was rather upset with my earlier actions; I can almost see him fuming... I can admit to myself that it's rather amusing, though frankly, I'm not sure why he didn't just use his patented 'Mello-bomb' and destroy everything in sight; regardless, it's better and by far safer for everyone that he didn't.
As I take my seat on the bus, I note that he sits several rows behind me, more than likely to watch me. I see his face contorted in a strained look of concentration—it is a rather awkward face, and I don't like the reaction in invokes in me. It is... strange and worrisome, to put it mildly... but, I find that I sort of like the look. The bus driver arrives then, successfully keeping my thoughts away from Mello and the strange faces he makes. However, on the way the Asylum, I hear whispering over the soft rumbling of the engine; I look and see Mello's lips moving in the foggy reflection of the window.
"...Stupid Near, he always... hate him... fuckin' asshole...right up his... right, okaa-san...?"
I pick up bits and pieces of the conversation he's having. I know it's not meant for the bus driver; he's too close to the engine to hear Mello's ramblings. Whatever he's conversing with must be in his mind. I wouldn't have taken him for one to hallucinate, but I wouldn't put it past him either. 'Wait... Didn't he call it "okaa-san"? But, he killed his parents, didn't he...? He's always going on about how he hated them... and the bombing along with their deaths was all over the news... Weirdly enough, his court case was kept off radar...'
I shake my head back a forth slightly in a rather childish attempt at clearing my mind of Mello-oriented thoughts, and surprisingly, I find it working. The only problem is that it goes back to another, more prevalent problem: Lawliet. Right now, I don't have time to figure out trivial matters like Mello; nii-san's situation is a matter of much higher priority. 'I know nii-san isn't as emotionless as others seem to think he is, and he's also much smarter than others ever give him credit for. He got himself sent there on purpose.' I know I needed to figure out why he felt this was necessary and how long he planned to stay for his experiments, along with whether or not he left any tracks for me to cover. But still, it's kind of hard to focus with Mello mumbling to himself...

'Damn that Near, daring to ignore me! I'll teach him to treat me like I'm nothing!' If I hadn't made my incredibly sour mood obvious to Near before, I was waving it in his face now. That albino freak's groupies just had to go and chew me out; he was in the way not me! I bet that fucker is always talking trash to them about me; that's probably the reason everyone in school is on his side! Well, I don't give a flying fuck! I have okaa-san on my side...
We're on our way to our shit group therapy to hear other whiny bitches complain about their sorry excuses for lives—what a joke! I swear the only reasons I'm going to this lame group are:
1) I was court ordered into attendance and the court will sent me to a detention center if I don't follow the ruling correctly.
2) To see and hang out with Matt—he's cool and often prevents me from hitting the counselor. And...
3) To annoy the shit out of Near, that albino bastard!
I know he doesn't like going to group, especially when I show up, so I'll use that to my advantage; I'll need all the power I can get. Now if only I could figure out his pet peeves this would work...
'Okay, so we have to go to group for three hours, and at the one and a half hour mark we break for fifteen minutes to take a snack break... what can I accomplish in that time? ...Any ideas, okaa-san? You said you would help me didn't you...?'
"Yes, Mello, dear, and I will do what I can, but remember to watch your feelings around Near... I cannot shake the danger I feel emanating from him," the voice warned. Okay, I admit okaa-san may know the answers to almost everything and I usually have enough respect for her to not get angry, but the way she's pushing the Near issue right now is not fucking helping, especially when I'm plotting! Never interrupt my evil genius! Never!
'But what do you mean, okaa-san? I hate Near! I fuckin' hate him! You know that,' I mentally argue. I'm so fucking pissed off that I don't even realize when I start talking out loud. "You know that I hate him okaa-san... He always thinks he's better than everyone; he needs to be knocked down a few pegs," I grumbled, anger and frustration at okaa-san's vagueness finally getting to me. "He's got that annoying 'holier-than-thou' attitude and he hates me and he always thinks he can act so fuckin' superior. Why the hell should I be careful, okaa-san?" I question, my voice steadily rising. "I have every fuckin' reason to hate him!"
By this time Mr. Superiority himself has decided to grace me with his gaze. Note my fuckin' sarcasm. Seriously, what the hell is he staring at me for?!
"What the hell are you lookin' at?! Fuckin' albino freak," I spat at him. He has no fuckin' right to look at me like I'm the freak; he's got a lot of goddamn nerve, especially after that shit he pulled earlier... getting in my way... asshole.
Near, obviously deciding I'm not worth a fuckin' response, turns back around and goes back to blankly staring out the window, which I have an overwhelming desire to smash his head through right now. But, because I'm so lost in my anger and fantasies of all the bodily harm I'd like to bring to Near and the screams I'll hear as he begs for mercy, admitting that I'm better than him, I don't hear okaa-san respond to my ranting:
"Oh, Mello... if only you knew what he'd do... I'm trying to protect you..."

"What the hell are you lookin' at?! Fuckin' albino freak," Mello says venomously, icy eyes challenging me to respond. I deadpan, figuring it's too much work to deal with Mello's senselessness at the moment, and I turn back around in my seat, continuing to look wistfully out the window. 'I wish I could be anywhere else right now... I'm not going to say anything to him; I already have to deal with him for the next three hours in group. ...Can't he even talk to himself quietly?' I'm silently fuming and the stress of nii-san's predicament isn't helping matters. We're almost to the asylum, so I gather up my backpack and other things I had to take directly from school in preparation for reaching our destination.
Once we reach the hospital and enter the group room, Mello proceeds to sit on the far right end of the room on a couch, continuing to glare at me, while I sit to the far left in an arm chair, pulling my left knee to my chest (something I probably picked up from nii-san), and immediately resume staring out the window; something about the action is calming to me. I take up a lock of my fluffy white hair and begin twirling it around my index finger once again, waiting for the others to show up. Mello takes out his iPod Touch and plays his music rather loudly; an inconvenience, but he probably planned it that way. I focus on a bird in the tree and become lost in thoughts of Lawliet... The bird makes me think of his lost freedom, regardless of him giving it up willingly. 'I wonder what nii-san is up to now...'
As other people begin trickling in, I am able to identify Jeevas Mail, though he goes by the name Matt. I presume he goes by that name simply because he doesn't like his own, and if that is the case I don't blame him, however I feel there may be a history behind it that I don't know about. He is a friend of Mello's from another school, and he has been in attendance for a few weeks now. Unfortunately, I don't know much about him other than his obvious friendship and/or alliance with Mello and his love of electronics. As for his attire, he has a purple-and-white-stripped long-sleeved shirt and plain, dark blue jeans along with non-descript white sneakers. He has startling, soft-looking red hair and focused, bright green eyes, and his signature accessory, orange-tinted goggles, on top of his head; I don't see what purpose they serve as they don't even keep his hair back... Strange...
"Hey, Mello," Matt says, not looking up from his PSP. "What's eating you?"
Mello directs his glare to Matt as if it should be obvious what is 'eating him'. Really, that's such a strange phrase. "What do you think, Matt? You won't believe what that fuckin' asshole Near did to me in school today! I was just walking in the hall, minding my own goddamn business when—"
I choose this moment to actively ignore Mello; I know he'll recant a completely backwards version of the story making him out to be the victim, even though Matt will see right through him. Matt, of course, will agree with him anyway—the little slave that he is—and agree to help with whatever revenge scheme I know Mello's plotting against me. I already have an image to keep at school and here I have to deal with Mello's childish antics five days a week for three hours a day... I internally sigh; not to mention I have to see L after this, since I'll be done with group almost half-way through L's visiting hours...
Ten minutes later the rest of our group had arrived and our counselor came in taking a seat in the center of the room in a wheeled office chair. We were told to state our names, ages, and why we were here for any newcomers—in this case Mello, since not everyone was here to make introductions on his first day, and a timid brunette.
Matt started first. "Hey, I'm Jeevas Mail, but I like to be called Matt. I'm sixteen and my parents sent me here for being a hikikomori." I already know Matt's reasons for being here—he's one of the few people here I can tolerate—and I quickly decide to tune out the rest. It's kind of ironic in my mind that a recluse like Matt has better social skills than anyone else here.
The other teens here were in this group for pretty standard reasons; they were either depressed, cut themselves, did drugs, hurt others, or were angry and had vicious tempers. When it came time for me to state my information, I turned away from the window to look coolly at the other occupants in the room. My gaze landed squarely on Mello before I spoke in a controlled, even tone.
"My name is Ryuuzaki Nathan, but I prefer to be called Near. I am seventeen years old and I am here because others assume I have a personality disorder caused by the death of my parents and repressed feelings caused by the event, when in fact there is nothing wrong with me; rather, I am enlightened to the uselessness of feelings and others are jealous that I have achieved a higher state of being."
As if to prove my point everyone else in the room silently seethes. I can see it in their eyes, their jealousy, their resentment, their anger at my easy vocalization of such a thought. I know they would never admit it, but I know I am right, at least to a certain extent—my 'robotic perfection' is envy-worthy if their reactions and the admiration of others is anything to go by, and the 'I-couldn't-care-less' attitude with which I stated such an observation wasn't helping to calm them any. Apparently, being a 'pompous brat' was one thing in their eyes, but being a correct 'pompous brat' was another thing entirely. It would be to their benefit to get used to it; I know I'm correct—I am always correct.

Group time was fast approaching. I was called for a special session during group after lunch, so the after dinner group is the first one I'll be attending. I know that otouto will be here after his group to see me during my visiting hours; no doubt he'll ask me why I let myself be caught, and how long I'm planning to stay here and experiment, along with whether or not I left any tracks for him to cover. 'Silly, adorable little Near-kun... Always so predictable.' I know I'm correct; I'm always correct when it comes to Near's patterns.
I know Near does not approve of my fascination with people minds and emotions, nor does he think understanding such a thing to be necessary. Near and I may have abandoned our feelings long ago (with the exception of those we feel for each other), but other people will always have feelings, and until I can figure out how to rid humanity of that fault, the second best option is to understand them and use them to our advantage. The more information I can gather on how they work, the more efficiently I can manipulate them and use them to our benefit. Once I can do that, I can handle any problems that arise and can more freely focus on the eradication of feelings and emotions—then I will never have to repeat the past...
Near's opinion aside, otouto doesn't yet know why I'm staying and hopefully he will see the same potential in this subject that I do; I expect great results from him. Once we file down to the cafeteria for dinner, I watch the subject as he travels down the line conversing with a cafeteria worker called 'Yuki'. This Yuki girl gives him an apple, blushing all the while. 'Is he trying to charm his way out of this place? If so, he's playing to the wrong people... No, it is more likely he's trying keep their attention from something else... but what?'
As I watch him leave and head to an empty table, I go through the serving line and only get a piece of chocolate cake with whipped cream and a strawberry. Not bad for an asylum. I hold the fork between my thumb and index finger, moving to bring the cake to lips. I notice the brunet watching me once more, but for now I decide I wish to see his reaction to being ignored: he doesn't take it all too well.
Dinner passes without incident or confrontation. We spend it sneaking glances at each other, but never making prolonged eye contact. By the end of dinner, I can safely say this game has grown tiresome. As we get up and make to leave for group, I take one last look at his eyes and I'm surprised to find them full of blatant challenge. I'm not quite sure what he's playing at, but I know I'll learn something interesting and I am never one to pass up new experiences, so I make an effort to attempt to return the look.

What is with this guy? He has yet to tell anyone who asks why he's here; hell, he hasn't even acknowledged them! He continues to ignore everyone and everything, with the exception of that damn cake of his, seeming to space out and be unaware of his surroundings. If I didn't see the intelligence behind those eyes of his myself, I'd think he was in here for being a vegetable! It irritates me to no end that I can't read much of anything from this guy.
Even if I did want to kill this guy there are several reasons why I can't:
1) I may know his face but I don't know his name.
2) He has given me no real reason to kill him yet aside from being generally irritating.
3) If I did decide to kill him it would bring massive suspicion to the asylum and, by extension, me. I wouldn't be able to kill him until he had been out of the asylum for at least a week or so if I want to avoid suspicion.
After dinner, I look over at him again, and of course he's ignoring me and everyone else; it almost arrogant. I'm not sure where this need to have his attention comes from, nor do I know where the need to challenge him originates; I just continue staring him down, openly now, and this time he spares me a passing glance on the way to the group therapy room. I know my eyes are set in unspoken challenge daring him to ignore me again. I don't know what has gotten into me but I do know he rubs me the wrong way and I'm not going to take it. I can say I'm surprised when he returns the look with a unique one of his own. 'Fine then... If that's the way he wants it...'

Well this is an interesting turn of events; I've never seen a subject so openly challenge me before. I move my thumb to my lips in a contemplative gesture. I have a feeling that this one will not be so easy to break. I'm not sure why, but I love this feeling...
As everyone entered the group room, I made sure to sit opposite the intriguing brunet, pulling my knees to my chest an placing my hands atop my knees, watching him intently. I don't want to miss any of his reactions, expressions or quirks. Everything is being stored into my photographic memory to be referenced later once I reach the experimentation stage. For now, and for weeks to come, I must merely observe and analyze.
Soon the person I assume to be the group counselor enters, and I must say I'm definitely disappointed—not that I had high expectations for the staff this places employs, but I did have a standard. He is a younger man than I would have expected, probably in his mid-twenties, with a boyish face and black hair with slight waves. I also find out moments later that his voice is rather grating.
"Hello, everyone. I am you group counselor, Matsuda Touta. Uhm, please state your name, your age and why you are here so everyone knows a little about each other... Um... Light-kun, why don't you go first?"
"Very well, Matsuda-san," said the brunette, looking pointedly at me before continuing. "I am Yagami Light, age eighteen, and I am here for hallucinations, various psychological traumas, and a particularly severe case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder or P.T.S.D. for short."
"Thank you, Light-kun. Next is..." But it was at this point that I actively tune out Matsuda and his horrible voice. I am much more interested in analyzing what Light had said. P.T.S.D., hm? What happened to him? What does he see when he hallucinates? Are these visions the reason he looks off in the distance sometimes? If it is a bad vision, why does he seem so content to see them? Why—?
"Um, excuse me... sir...?" I am torn away from my thoughts by Matsuda. How upsetting; I was really getting somewhere before he interrupted me. In any case, I look around the room, my eyes settling on 'Light-kun' before I divulge what I feel is necessary.
"I am Ryuuzaki. I am nineteen years of age and as for my reason for being here... I don't believe it is any of your concern," I say monotonously.

"My name is Ryuuzaki Nathan, but I prefer to be called Near. I am seventeen years old and I am here because others assume I have a personality disorder caused by the death of my parents and repressed feelings caused by the event, when in fact there is nothing wrong with me; rather, I am enlightened to the uselessness of feelings and others are jealous that I have achieved a higher state of being." That's what the albino freak said.
This ass wipe has officially succeeded in making me beyond livid! Where in the HELL does he get off saying that?! I wanted to kill him right then and there! But of course this stupid whore of a 'guidance counselor' had everyone else go around and introduce themselves. As if I give a fuck! She can take her goddamn guidance and shove it up her ass as soon as she figures out how to remove that ten foot pole she no doubt has lodged in there. Maybe it'll puncture or rupture her internal organs and she'll die of internal bleeding.
As I fantasize about all the other wonderfully convenient ways my counselor could die, I look around and see more than hear the other members of the group introduce themselves—I'm busy listening to my counselor's imaginary screams of agony at the moment. The people here were pretty generic with their weak excuses for problems; there's an emo chick who cuts herself, an angry guy who abuses his girlfriend, and a douche bag of a wanna-be gangster who's probably on drugs and gay, but trying to hide it through a string of short-term girlfriends and his hyper-macho bullshit. There are others, but nothing note-worthy is said; figures they'd have sorry excuses for lives.
Finally, it's my turn to make my impression. I look pointedly at Near before I begin; I'll make sure no one here ignores me! "I'm Keehl Miheal, but call me Mello, got it dumbasses? Call me anything else and I'll kill you! I'm fifteen and those fuckers in court sent me here because my real mother told me to kill my fuckin' douche bag parents before they killed me. So I blew 'em up! If you got a fuckin' problem too damn bad! And if you insult my okaa-san I will fucking kill you bastards, you got it? And I'm not fuckin' jealous of you, Near! You're just a fuckin' pompous asshole!"
I look around and I'm pleased to see the reactions to my proclamation. Most faces are fearful, some challenging, and others resentful. I'm looking forward to challengers; it wouldn't be any fun if all these pussies gave in on the second day. 'Of course they'd react like this. I'm so fuckin' superior to these punk-ass idiots.' But of course, mother fucking Near finds a way to ruin anything good. He just has to be the one person who ignores me, even when what I say is impossible for everyone else to ignore! That bastard! How dare he look out the window! Do I have to smash the damn thing to get him to pay attention?! He's doing the same thing he did in school! What the hell is out there that's more worthy of your time, huh?! The least you could do is fucking look at me!
I guess the ten foot pole didn't impale our stupid skank of a therapist and she hasn't died from internal bleeding because she asked me to elaborate on my 'okaa-san'. I guess the hostility I was emitting was too strong if this dumb whore could pick up on it. I turn to her, putting my hatred and Near-oriented frustrations aside, and answer her stupid questions; the faster I do, the easier I'm outta here.
"Fine, you fuckin' dumbass counselor," I start, huffing in my indignation at Near's continued disregard. 'I guess I can't put it behind me no matter what I do... damn it all.' "Okaa-san tells me things, all kinds of things. She says that Near is a douche and she told me when my parents were gonna fuckin' try and stab me to death, the assholes. She told me how to build to bombs and where to place them and set them off so I wouldn't die or get too burned. And she was right 'cause only my face, neck and shoulder got burned. Okaa-san knows every—"
'Mello, don't say anymore! Near is dangerous; you can't let him know about me!'
"—Ah!" Suddenly, I feel a sharp stab in my head and grab a fistful of his hair, my face contorting in pain. Okaa-san has never yelled at me before; is Near really that fuckin' special? "...Actually, fuck you all! It's not your goddamn business! Not like you care or believe me... assholes..."
As the pain subsides and I look up, I see that something got Near's attention; he was looking at me with something akin to surprise. '...But, why is my heart beating faster...? ...Why the hell to I want Near to acknowledge me so damn much?'

I heard Mello's loud and extremely obnoxious introduction to the group; it's kind of hard to ignore him, loathe as I am to admit such. I try to go back to figuring out how I'm going to confront nii-san, but then I hear some interesting things when Tokomo-san, the counselor, asks Mello to elaborate on his 'okaa-san'.
"Fine, you fuckin' dumbass counselor," he starts. Figures his language would still be crude, even outside of school. Then again, he has always been like this. "Okaa-san tells me things, all kinds of things. She says that Near is a douche and she told me when my parents were gonna fuckin' try and stab me to death, the fuckers. She told me how to build to bombs and where to place them and set them off so I wouldn't die or get too burned. And she was right 'cause only my face, neck and shoulder got burned. Okaa-san knows every—Ah! ...Actually, fuck you all! It's not your goddamn business! Not like you care or believe me... assholes..."
Several things about what he said catch my attention: Firstly, insults about me aside, how does this voice in his head seem to know about events before they happen? And how is Mello not privy to the same knowledge as this voice? Second, there was a moment when he stopped speaking mid-sentence, as if someone interrupted him. That would imply this voice doesn't want me to know something and, by extension, has a conscience of its own. If this voice is trying to keep something from me, it stands to reason that having Mello under my watch would be to my advantage; this voice seems to think this information is of value to me and wants to keep it hidden.
Normally, I would think anything a voice in someone's head said was ludicrous, especially if that voice was in the head of someone like Mello. But I want to know what his 'okaa-san' is trying to hide. The only problem is that Mello so obviously hates me, and I don't exactly enjoy his presence. Getting close will be an issue, but once I do achieve that closeness I can see if there is any value in keeping him around. If he turns out to be useless and this hallucination's predictions were just coincidence, then I can dispose of Mello and move on.

"I am Ryuuzaki. I am nineteen years of age and as for my reason for being here... I don't believe it is any of your concern." If this Ryuuzaki-teme is trying to piss me off, it's sure as hell working. I don't know where this guy thinks he can get off keeping things from everyone else in the group; he's probably doing this as a challenge to me... How dare he. He doesn't know who he's up against. I am 'Kira', I am Yagami Light; I decide to take him up on the proffered challenge and go against his lack of information—he'll learn not to mess with 'the God of the New World'.
"Ryuuzaki, you must state why you're here, just like everyone else. I understand being embarrassed, but really, you hold no special privilege," I state smugly. I will find out this guy's story.
"U-um... Actually, Light-kun...," Matsuda began. His eyes shifted nervously. "We were told to not f-force him to d-disclose anything he doesn't feel necessary in group therapy... and... that it w-will be d-dealt with in a one-on-one therapy session... W-we weren't told w-why..."
God, I hate when Matsuda stutters. I admit things are tense, but his nervous habits aren't helping. Couldn't they get someone more confident in their abilities to diffuse situations like this? Maybe then there would be less fights on the ward; of course I would never do something so uncouth, no matter how much Ryuuzaki irks me. Speaking of Ryuuzaki irking me, he looks pretty damn pleased that he's managed to one-up me! Anger and irritation waft off me in near palpable waves.
"A-anyway...," Matsuda began again. "L-let's talk about h-how things are g-going for each of you... Things have gotten so tense..." he mumbles. Of course it's so quiet everyone can hear him, the idiot; you could probably hear a pin drop, too.
I know that Ryuuzaki couldn't care less about what Matsuda has to say, so I also decide to tune out Matsuda in favor of pondering this newcomer since I know he is also analyzing me—his gaze makes that pretty damn obvious. Why the hell would the staff give him special privilege? Why was he here? Why is no one else allowed to know? I absolutely can't stand this; I can't figure out why...
All the while this Ryuuzaki character stares me down, watching me with those soulless eyes of his. I can see his hidden amusement, along with something else I can't quite label... He watches me like a scientist watches their subject; strangely enough, I find I don't mind the look. I would be the only one here worthy of his interest, that intelligent gaze. He can study me all he wants; I will win this game of ours, this dance that we've started, and when all's said and done, I can assure you Ryuuzaki, that I will be the one leading this tango.

I am rather grateful that group therapy is over; I was nearly bored senseless. I am almost looking forward to Near's complaints about my purposely getting committed to an insane asylum—almost, but not quite.
This Yagami Light person was definitely a worthy subject; if I had doubts before they have been eradicated now. The way Light-kun stood and confronted me head on like that... his reactions are clearly caused by an obviously deep-rooted sense of superiority... Once again, I am completely fascinated by him. How did he get this way? Just how deep does this complex go? Was he born predisposed and his environment merely cultivated it? Or is this the result of the traumas he mentioned earlier? I bite my thumb as I contemplate the possibilities.
As I decide to head down for visiting hours, I immediately spotted Near's fluffy white tresses and by look in his eye, his mood was by far more foul than usual. This was somewhat unexpected; I knew I would be a source of stress for otouto, but not this extent. Something else must be on his mind. 'Perhaps something has happened in his group. He looks a bit disconcerted... Regardless, it is pointless to try and elude his questioning.'
I walk up and stand before him, rubbing my right leg with my left foot—a nervous habit—waiting for Near to make eye contact and acknowledge my presence before greeting him. "Otouto."
"...Aniki," Near replied. His voice is just as monotonous as my own; I've taught Near well, but I can't help noticing the icy and somewhat frigid edge to his tone. "...What are you doing?"
"Why is otouto asking questions he already has the answers to? Honestly, I thought I taught otouto better than that," was my choice of witty retorts. Before today, Near was the only person able to counter me in conversation and keep me invested. Now I am 87% sure I've found another person able to maintain my long-term interest.
"...Very well, aniki, suppose I do have the answer; who is it?" Near asked, an expectant look in his eyes. I point to Light, not bothering to hide the fact that we are openly discussing him, and Near gave him an appraising look, mirroring the one I used just minutes before. I am somewhat relieved that Near seems to see the source of my interest—much to my good fortune—and doesn't get angry; instead, he merely says, "Keep a close eye on that one aniki; something's off about him. He may be harmful to us, or worse, our cause. Remember our ambitions, nii-san. We cannot fail."
"He may also be useful, otouto. Keep an open mind," I retorted. With Near being even more logic driven and strict than myself, I have to frequently remind him of the less likely possibilities.
"...Very well, aniki. You'd be wise not to disappoint me, but you already know that, don't you?" Near stated rather than asked; there was no room for debate or denial. If there is anything that intimidates me, even in slightest, it is and always will be Near. Sometimes I had to wonder if I taught him a little too well.
I decide to ignore the slight fear niggling in the back of my mind in favor of answering him and hopefully keeping him in the dark about the power he holds over me. "Of course, otouto. Why would my subjects ever be boring? This one should produce... interesting results if nothing else. But at least now otouto knows why I can't leave just yet. I can assure otouto this information will become valuable to him in the future... Do not worry, Near-kun."
Near looked up at me as I said those words. He knows I would only ever say them to show him I am serious. "...I expect no less... L-niisan," Near replied, showing his forgiveness with his nickname for me. When Near says those words, he makes me feel. The sensation is what I assume to be the 'big brother' feeling others get when their siblings hug them, show them affection or make them proud in some way. I like this feeling.
I debate whether or not to perform a display of familial affection I saw on television earlier that day. I know he is still stressed from whatever got to him in his group earlier, and this course of action may soothe him. The consequences of doing so could be rather torturous given Near's attitude towards such things, but even so, impulse gets the better of me and I tentatively reach out my hand. There is a 75.7% chance Near will leave or display some other negative reaction, and either be unsure or unable to react to what I'm about to do. The other 24.3% symbolizes the likelihood of Near having a neutral or—dare I say—positive reaction to this stimulus. Slowly I lift my hand. Near watches it warily; I can see his inner conflict reflected in those eyes that are so like my own—a beautiful onyx—his desire to trust me evident and warring with fear at this unfamiliar action.
I finally decide to hold back no more and ruffle his soft, white tresses, slowly and tentatively at first so as not to startle him, looking down at him inquisitively, as if asking whether or not this action is acceptable; I would like to do this to him again. Near's eyes widen marginally before returning to their normally passive look; he shocks me further by closing them a few seconds, a sign that he actually enjoys this. I put slight pressure on his scalp, continuing the motion; it would seem this is one of those aforementioned 'less likely possibilities'. After a few moments, he stands and says nothing, heading towards the door. I watch as his recently tousled, snowy hair bounces around his face and feel an inexplicable warmth fill my chest; a happiness and contentedness I haven't felt in years. I sit back down with my knees pressed to my chest once more, left hand resting atop my knee and my right thumb pressed to my lips. Outwardly, nothing has changed, but I use this time to engrave this feeling into my soul forever.
End Chapter Two
Again, over 7200 words... I'm on a roll~! I'm quite happy. A lot of POV shifting, but I like my style. I find Mello to be very easy to write, as I was in both in-patient and out-patient therapies as an early teenager and had the exact same thoughts. I also think Matt really is a hikikomori. And everybody say "aww" to the moment with L and Near at the end. (squee) L's trying to be a good big brother.
Please review, your opinion is valued. Next chapter will definitely be more Mello and Near oriented; the first half will be the embarrassing yet cute, Near/Mello teaser half and the second will be the L and Light oriented, angsty exposition half.
Also, I love L's question tangents. I'm going to keep track of all the tangents and total tangent questions he asks and at the end of this story I'll tell you the total. It should be... amusing.
Ja ne
Rainbow-chan. :3
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Raising Hell