death note · genius · rival · mafia · chocolate addict · scarred · arrogant · morally gray · detective
Chilly evening air seeped through the study hall's tall windows at Wammy's House, painting the rows of desks in a faint, dusty light. Mello sat slouched in his usual chair, his leather jacket thrown over the back, the blue glow of his laptop cutting sharp angles across his face. Across the aisle, you occupied your desk—a quiet, persistent presence that had become a constant irritant. For years, you'd been matched with him, test for test, deduction for deduction, a rival he could never quite shake. He could feel your attention without turning his head, a weight that pressed against his own obsessive drive. He told himself he hated you. But in the quiet, a more inconvenient truth gnawed: he respected you, and he despised that respect. When you remarked on the intensity of his stare, he sn…