(Note - While I'm waiting oh so patiently for a few more reviews on my 'Interview' story. . .type-thing, I've come up with a random plot. So I'm giving my first attempt at trying Matt's personality. He'll be in and out of this story, but for the most part, he'll be in here, m'kay? By the way, in case any very few number of you were wondering, I got the inspiration for this story from the song 'Carry on Wayward Son', by Kansas. So, if you're quite done with me rambling for now, I'll begin to let this story unfold. But remember that I'm looking for constructive criticism, please. Don't be afraid to tell me that I'm wrong. But for reference, the word 'nuisance', pronounced 'new sense' is spelled so. Well, at least spell check says so.)

THE BET

"Give it back, Mello."

"Why don't you stand up and make me, twerp?"

Near sent a mental bullet through the head of the boy standing over him, who was dangling a striking, shimmering blue racecar inches away from his reach. He had no need to stand and take the racecar from Mello's hands. It was just that Mello was bothering him, and he wanted to continue to enjoy watching his blue racer speed around on his brand new racetrack without this nuisance of a boy teasing him over it. Near glanced down at Mello's footing, and instead of reaching up and out for the car, he swiped the side of his hand behind Mello's knee, and struck the bend, causing Mello's knee to thrust forward, and him to topple to the floor. Near caught the unhanded car before it hit the floor, and went on about his business of readying the racer on the track, acting as if Mello weren't there, or even that he had even taken the car.

Mello raised himself from the ground with a very angry aura buzzing about him now. He wound his hand back behind him, curled each and every finger into a tight fist, and plunged his balled hand for Near's little nose.

Mello slumped in his seat as he waited, listening inside the room next him as muffled voices discussed heatedly about what he punishment was to be.

Flashback.

"Mello, such behaviour is unacceptable in any orphanage," L scolded him. Mello kept his gaze away from his mentor, secretly hating what he had done, but angry for being scolded so.

"Are you listening to me, Mello?" Mello forced his head to turn and face L, who was sitting at Wammy's desk, his knees drawn to his chest, his thumb almost dangling from his mouth. He looked almost as if what happened to Near wasn't bothering him one bit.

"Yes, L," Mello sighed irritably, "I'm listening."

"Mello, you broke Near's nose. You didn't hurt it, you didn't crack it, you broke it. He's in the emergency room, doctors trying to stop blood flow, and possibly piece his cartilage back to the way it was before you broke it. I have a standard that I sometimes go by. Have you ever heard the phrase 'One for one;, or 'An eye for an eye'?"

"That's pretty much the same concept that I went by," Mello admitted, nodding his head.

"You took Near's racecar from him, and in turn, he tripped you to get revenge, and to get his car back. To get revenge on him getting revenge on you, you punched him in the nose, thus breaking it. But when Near returns from the hospital, he could perhaps break your arm by yanking it out of joint to get revenge on you getting , which I highly doubt he would do, but regardless, do you see what's happening, Mello?" Again, he nodded. "The phrase 'One for one' goes back and forth, over and over, until someone gets hurt, or worse, they get killed."

"But you just told me that you go by that standard."

"And you must also remember that I'm a bit older than you are, and a bit more durable than you and Near are. Once you're old enough, and are released into the world, you're allowed pretty much what ever you want to do, until you're caught by the police." L gave a half-chuckle, more to himself, and stood from the chair, diving his hands into his pockets, and shooed Mello from the room.

End Flashback.

Mello tucked his bottom lip behind his top lip, as it slowly began to poke into a pout on his face. Instead, he crossed his arms tightly across his chest and twisted his mouth into a sour frown. From the midst of voices in the room beside him, Mello picked up on a new noise. The sound of pixel-muffled sound effects. He knew those sounds all too well.

"Matt, you missed it," Mello called down the hallway, a half-grin arising from his frown, as the redhead took his time to make his way to Mello's side and sit, his eyes glued to the handheld in front of him. "What are we playing today?" Matt paused for a moment, taking in Mello's question.

"FF - Crisis Core. Anyway, I had heard from some of the others that your currently in major trouble. What'd you do this time?" Mello muffled a snicker.

"Broke Near's nose."

"Dude!"

"I know! It was like--"

"No, I mean, why'd you do it?" Mello shrugged.

"He made me mad, he had tripped me prior, he was breathing my air, what other reasons do you want? I mean, it was cruel and all, but that's what it's like on the streets, and it's not like the person who breaks your nose is gonna pat your shoulder, concern in his eyes and say, "Gee, man, m'sorry about hitting you like that. Why don't I buy you some fucking cake and ice cream, and we'll call it even?" He may just fork his eyes out and use them as fish bait, or something. Besides, L didn't seem worried about it."

"L doesn't seem worried about anything," Matt shot back, cracking a grin. "I'd be willing to bet every video game I own that you wouldn't last a week without picking on Near." Mello scoffed.

"I'd be willing to bet that I could last a month without picking on that bugger. It's too easy. But why would I want your video games?" Matt pressed the start button on his handheld, pausing the game, and turned his gaze to Mello.

"Because my games are kick-ass," he said, sounding almost offended. "But probably not every single one of them. How 'bout. . .all the chocolate you could ask for?" Mello felt a smirk tug at his lips.

"Where in the hell would you come up with that much chocolate?" he asked, now slightly interested. Matt reached into his pocket, and brought from it a thin bar, wrapped in tin foil. Score. He tossed it abruptly to Mello, and focused three-fourths of his attention back to his game.

"I have my ways. . ."

"So you really wanna pull through with this bet, aye?" Matt nodded lightly, as Mello unwrapped his treasure and chipped a large piece of it off in his mouth.

"A month. You can't pick on Near, call him names, or anything negative. But you must be around him, and you must spend time with him. If you win, you get a lifetime supply of chocolate bars."

"And if you happen to win, which you won't, I'll buy your games for the next year." Matt gave a rare, but genuine smile, and held one hand out.

"Deal." Mello took his hand, and they shook.

(Note - Well, you'll just have to see what happens next. I'm not telling you anymore than what's written. Hope you're enjoying the story so far!)