Whatever

[And I wonder day to day,
I don't like you anyway.
I don't need your shit today;
You're pathetic in your own way

I was proud that we hadn't fought so far. At least, not physically. What I lacked in self-control and made abundant in misplaced irritation, I guess Matt made up for with patience. God, he was what made life bearable. I couldn't imagine having to live in his hellhole apartment by myself, especially in the state I was in, even though I had long since healed.

Not that I would admit any of that to anyone else, especially not Matt. I would merely nod in appreciation.

Unfortunately, I still had a problem keeping my petty, aggravated comments to myself. If the red-haired game freak had been more sensitive, I'm sure we would have been going at it at long before.

"Oi, Matt."

I, of course, was the first to break the silence every time. He wouldn't bother looking up from his precious game for five seconds, not to talk to me. So I had to initiate the conversation. Even now, his eyes stayed glued to the screen, mouth moving to the rhythm of his soft-spoken words.

"Hmmm, Mello?"

"Don't you ever stop playing that?"

A pause. The younger boy grudgingly switched off his game and stared exasperatedly at me. I didn't regret it; quite the contrary: my lips went up in a smirk of satisfaction. Perfect. Now all I needed was some chocolate….

"D'you want me to do something, Mel?" he asked, hunched over his knees, lips moving slightly as though at a loss for something important. I, of course, knew what that was. I absolutely forbade him to smoke while he was in the apartment.

[I feel for you.
(better fuckin' go away)
I will behave.
(Better fuckin' go away)
I'm doing the best I ever did;
I'm doing the best that I can;
I'm doing the best I ever did.

Another pause. "Talk to me, you sunovabitch," I said, feeling more relaxed just by my infinitesimal amount of cussing. There would be more of that to come, guaranteed. "All you do is play that stupid game."

"It's not stupid," he protested calmly, tucking the system into his jacket pocket. "And what about you? All you do is eat chocolate and feel sorry for yourself because you want to prove yourself to a guy who still plays with his toys. Get a life, man."

I was stunned; Matt had never talked to me like this before. Had he been suppressing all of this? Was he just pissed off about something? Whatever it was, I wasn't going to let it slide. I stood abruptly, as though challenging the other.

"What the fuck? You live in an apartment and live on cigarettes and games you buy from the pawnshop down the street. You can't talk to me about getting a life. At least I have something to work for."

"You call that sob story a goal? You're pathetic."

I lunged, grabbing Matt by his collar and using every ounce of my strength to hoist him into the air. "Say that again, you pussy."

"Fuck you," he said. He didn't cuss as often as I did, but this exclamation sounded so natural between gritted teeth. I narrowed my eyes, wanting to punch the hell out of him. What was going on? We usually got along so well, neither bothering the other, while we slowly got closer to Kira, and Near.

I put him down, watching scathingly as Matt's goggles mussed his lanky hair, the hair that dripped over his eyes like a bloody torrent. It was so fucking beautiful; but again, I wouldn't admit that.

A silence proceeded this, and then finally, once I had turned back to my chair, he spoke:

"I knew you wouldn't touch me," came the muttered reply, and it stung to hear such animosity dripping in it. What the hell was going on? We hadn't been this distant before.

But my mind didn't comprehend the nagging feeling of unsettlement. It was consumed by rage, and partial guilt. I whirled around and tackled him, pinning him to the couch as I began to throw punch after punch into his perfect face.

This'll show the bastard….

Matt fought back, blindly clawing at my hair and stinging the scar on the side of my face. I couldn't say it didn't hurt like hell, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he had struck a nerve. Matt attempted to kick me off, simultaneously attempting a feeble punch to my gut, but I had already drawn my gun and pressed it to the other's forehead.

He stopped struggling, anger resonating in his features. I had never seen him this angry. Was it all because of me…?

"What the hell is your problem, Matt?" I demanded, pulling myself off of him.

[I don't need to fantasize;
You are my pet all the time.
I don't mind if you go blind.
You get what you get
Until you're through with my life.

"Just go the fuck away," he spluttered, dragging himself off the couch. "Get out of my apartment and go catch Kira on your own."

"What did I do?"

Matt whirled around, this time snatching the front of my leather shirt and clutching it angrily. It was frightening, in fact, how angry he could get. I had always seen him so nonchalant. What about me brought this sort of fire out in him?

"You…you treating me like your lackey," he said, he grasp loosening slightly. "You lounging around my apartment. You and your goddamn chocolate. You coming in here in the middle of the night after being blown up. You worrying the shit out me with your 'I'll do anything it takes to beat Near' attitude. You."

Matt's face softened, and he released me with a note of finality. He pulled his goggles over his eyes and turned.

"You need to get the fuck out of here."

[I feel for you.
(better fuckin' go away)
I will behave,
You'd better go away.
I'm doing the best I ever did;
I'm doing the best that I can;
I'm doing the best I ever did;
Now go away.

"Where am I supposed to go?" I asked incredulously, quite surprised at this change of pace. Only weeks ago Matt had been ecstatic to let me stay. It was cool between us. Almost like a miniature family reunion. Now, I didn't know what to think.

"I don't care," he replied dryly, taking out his game again and sitting determinedly against the wall on the far side of the room. "Anywhere but here."

"Christ, you make me sick, you bastard," I said, wheeling around and seething to myself. "But I'm not leaving. It's not like you can make me."

Matt looked up. "Oh? You wanna bet, boss?" He picked himself up off the floor, discarding his game quite atypically, and landed a punch to my face.

"Crazy bastard!" I called, fighting back. Our second fight of the day. And here I had been, thinking we were getting along perfectly. I guess I was wrong. My blonde bangs clung to my face from sweat, face contorted with concentration.

He took a step back, and not able to concentrate on both his balance and the task, fell back and onto the couch. This time though, he didn't get back up. Instead, he leaned heavily against the soft back of the loveseat and pulled out a cigarette from one pocket and a lighter from the other. He lit the object resignedly and took a drag from it.

"Hey," I hissed, marching up and reaching out to snatch it from his mouth. Matt reached out and caught my hand easily, pushing it away and sighing out a putrid gust of smoke. I wrinkled my nose, but seeing as all the fight in him had gone, I attempted to make conversation and figure out what the hell was wrong.

Then I'd make him put that filthy thing out.

I sat opposite him, supporting my elbow on the armrest, and glaring at him through haughty, half-lidded eyes. "What's up with you? A couple of days ago you were fine with me staying. Now you want me to leave?"

He didn't answer all at first, and I couldn't tell what he was thinking behind those damned goggles. Finally, after a few puffs on the cigarette and a weary sigh, he turned to look at me.

"Shit, Mello, I'm sorry," he said, rolling his eyes over to the wall behind me, gaze following a long crack I had put there from throwing his Nintendo. "Maybe I'm just tense. I thought you were the reason, and in a sense, you are."

"You're blaming me for something?" I asked incredulously, lifting my head off my palm to meet his gaze.

Another pause. He was full of them today, wasn't he?

"No. I guess it's because…" He inhaled a sickening amount of smoke. "You're going to get yourself killed in this feud with Near, and every time you leave to go do something, I'm always worried sick. And then you crawled in here, half-dead, after exploding a building you were still in. For a genius successor of L, you sure are fucking stupid."

I scowled. "I'm not a successor anymore. Near is."

"And that's the point! You're obsessed with Near! He's all you ever think about! Why don't you just go marry him if you love him so much?"

"What the hell? What are you talking about?"

"Why can't you just be content with yourself? I am."

"Content with you or me?"

"You're an idiot."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't want you to die, Mello, and you're going to do it if you don't let this vendetta go."

"And that's why you're so pissed?"

"Don't you get it? You're so fucking dense. I want to kill you sometimes."

"Then why don't you do it?"

Matt whipped around to face me, eyes boring holes into mine through tinted glass, cigarette held fast between clenched teeth. We stayed like that for the longest time, staring at each other, trying to fathom each other. Neither of us was able to do it. It was only a matter of time before the darker-haired one stood and walked out of the apartment.

I felt like I should have been pissed, or at least irritated. But I wasn't. I was guilty, and it made me wonder what things could have been like if I would have let go of my grudge against Near. Just what was Matt implying?

Maybe I knew.

Maybe all of this was my fault, just as Matt had said.

I stood and walked to the door, hand faltering over it. Would I follow? No…there was too much to do before the whole Takada incident. I made my way back to the couch and buried my head in the armrest to wait out the rest of the day, and the time until he got back.

And eventually, long after the apartment had settled into a transient normalcy, it began to rain.

[I feel for you.
(better fuckin' go away)
I will behave,
You'd better go away.
I'm doing the best I ever did;
I'm doing the best that I can;
I'm doing the best I ever did;
Now go away.