#meronia oneshot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

redmelawashere · 6 years

Text

Nullius Rei Me Pænitet

I've been in this hellish fandom since 2008 and it's only now that I find myself capable of writing for the pairing that got me into fan fiction and motivated me to write in the first place #rip

He hates New York City.

There was as reason why, when he’d realized that it just wasn’t working anymore, that for once in his life he just didn’t have the will to fight, that he’d packed all his bags and returned to London. After Kira, he just couldn’t deal with the toxicity of the United States any longer, especially after all the abuse he’d inflicted and received for power. He’d tolerated it… because Japan represented a rebirth he didn’t deserve, Belarus would never truly be his home, and because he didn’t even think he knew where home was anymore. He had cleared Mello’s name… had given him a new foundation to stand shakily upon as a major chapter of his life had finally ended. Some small part of him would forever be grudgingly grateful for the clean slate. But beyond that, there was nothing that tied him to New York anymore other than bad blood and nightmares. That is, nothing except –

“Tata!”

“Katya,” he exhales, holding his daughter as tightly in his arms as he could, feeling the young woman squeeze back just as brutally. He pressed a quick series of kisses into her silky, blonde hair before resting his cheek against her. “I missed you, love.”

After a few moments, she pulled back, grinning crookedly. “Well, maybe you should visit more often instead of flying around the world solving cases.”

“Hey, work is—”

“Work is work is work is work. You and dad always sound the same about your work.”

He twitched angrily. “Get used to it brat, you’re the one who’s officially becoming an adult.”

“Don’t say that!” she whined, squeezing his arm before dragging him towards one of the free tables at the café they’d agreed to meet at for lunch. “I’m already stressing about it…”

“What are you all stressed about again?” he muttered, nudging her with her elbow, silently worried over how much anxiety Katya was prone to having. They had that it common. Agonising over every precise little detail and miniscule boundary that delayed from perfection. “You obviously graduated,” he spoke with a raised eyebrow, staring at her reaction over the edge of the menu.

“My official grades haven’t come in yet. The Uni could literally send me an email at any moment saying ‘oops sorry. You don’t actually get to graduate’.”

“You’re my kid. Of course, you graduated,” the taller blonde smiled proudly. Katsiaryna had always done well in school. Well, she’d done well with getting grades. There had been a rebellious period in high school when his trouble-making genes decided to flare up when her world had crashed off its axis for the first time. Regardless, she’d been able to make it into Cornell without any major issues. That is, until she’d started her school there. Pressure from living up to the standards of an Ivy League school, anger at herself and them, and falling into a toxic crowd of rich students looking to ease their own anxieties with medicated cocktails had lead to a break-down and her eventually dropping out of Cornell, before switching to Colombia.

Even with her own struggles, his daughter had blossomed into a beautiful and successful young woman. She hadn’t been conditioned for pain and failure like he had at Whammy’s. She wasn’t used to heartbreak so painful you couldn’t breath; trauma that molded him and countless other children into monstrous manifestations of deluded justice. Despite their astronomical differences, if he and that bastard had done anything right in their damaged lives, it was to give Katsiaryna the childhood they’d both been robbed of and a security net of love and support that would never fail to catch her.

Katya leaned onto her hands while her elbows dug into the metal table. “I just,” she started attentively. “I just don’t know what to do, you know? It’s the end of such a long era.” She seemed thoughtful for a moment, working through her own thoughts as he ordered for them. It was once the waiter walked away that she pouted as if she were a toddler again. “I feel… old.”

He couldn’t help but bark out a laugh. “Old? Katya, you’re turning twenty-two in a couple of months. That’s hardly old.” He flicked her forehead with a painted nail and she swatted his hand away viciously, cheeks already burning bright red from embarrassment.

“Stoooop, I feel like I’m supposed to have my entire life figured out. Some people I know from high school are already married and having babies. It’s so grossly domestic.”

He hummed in response, taking a sip of the boiling black coffee the waiter had set in front of him. “Grossly domestic isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

“Like you can talk,”

“Still doesn’t detract from the ideality of domesticity. Find some nice person who can deal with your shit long enough that you can live a quiet life.”

“You say that like you wouldn’t get bored. Actually, you did.”

“Never said it was for everyone. And you can’t deny that having someone… permanent isn’t a terrible idea.”

She stares at him point blank with that resting bitch face that was undeniably from his side of the gene pool. “I don’t have time to waste on some loser in love or deal with bullshit, emotional commitments.”

“That’s my girl! An unapologetic heartbreaker. Gives me less trouble and skulls to break.”

“Oh yes, that’s my true destiny,” she teased, taking a quick sip of her cappuccino. “Some sort of fem-fatale like character. I’ll join the mafia, become an assassin, and cut out the hearts of fuck boys who think they have a chance.”

“Not a bad idea,” he forces a smile, the subject of the mafia a topic they’ve never breached. She knew that in his youth he had been off the grid for safety and fear of Kira’s rampage… but the exact circumstances were still something he hoped she would never learn of. “You’re forgetting the part where if you become renowned enough I’d have to arrest you.”

“You or dad, you mean. Guess it’d be a competition if you refused to work together depending on my notoriety.”

He can’t help but feel somber nostalgia bubble up from memories he’d tried so hard to restrain. At twenty-one he’d lived a life far too harsh and unfair. He’d felt so mature, so much older than he should have. It’s only now, that the world has mostly regained its balance from its stint with Kira that he realizes how cruel it was. Solemnly he comes to realise just how young she truly is… how young they were when the burden of the world’s safety was forced onto their shoulders. How unfair it was that their lives were forced into a mold so carefully constructed by Whammy’s and L.

At forty-five he’s become bitter of the man he’d idolized for so many years. In a way, he’s even jealous of the life they’d been able to construct for Katsiaryna. At twenty-one, her greatest concern was finishing off her schooling, find a career, and begin the rest of her life. At twenty-one, he had been left to burn inside a church; praying to God that he spare him for all his toxic sins with his name on his lips as he whispered, ‘please, please let him live. Kill me if it means that he’ll survive.’ If only he’d known how much more he’d have to struggle and fight to prove his right to existence.

“Do you want to continue with graduate studies?” he asked. “You could always come back to London and live with me again for a while.”

“I was thinking about it…” she admitted, taking a long sip of coffee. “Switzerland and Singapore have lots of amazing architecture grad programs and I wouldn’t mind going back to Stockholm either. Or maybe I could do an internship? Or just… take a year off and travel or something… Sort myself out.”

“As charming as it is that your peers have their shit together, it doesn’t mean you have to have all the answers.” He certainly never did. “You’re allowed to take it slow. Even with all our… differences, your father and I will support you in whatever you choose. You have the right to choose. Don’t listen to all that rubbish your shitty little friends tell you.”

Her soft smile suddenly turned into a sneer and loved to bring out this fire from her. It reminded him how much of himself was in her.

“Hey! Not all of my friends are shitty!”

“That bloke I met last time—”

“Okay, okay so Jace is a dumbass, but Hannah—”

“—is a hoe.”

“Tata,” she looked absolutely scandalized, but couldn’t stop the grin from stretching onto her cheeks. “You can’t just—”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Well—you’re not—but that doesn’t mean—”

“Exactly.”

‘You act like you were never sexually deviant in your youth,” she throws back. “You still are.”

“At least I know how to use a condom correctly.”

She rolls her eyes, taking another sip of her coffee before looking around to see if their waiter was in sight. “Is Uncle Matt flying in today or tomorrow?”

“He’s flying in tomorrow afternoon. I was thinking that since we’ve both flown in from the U.K we could do something more interesting than just dinner. Maybe Coney Island? I was also thinking that the day of the ceremony we could go out with you on the town in Manhattan.”

“Actually,” Katsiaryna stops, playing with her hands; a nervous habit she developed as a child when she stopped using toys to cope with fidgeting. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to do that, but the day of the ceremony,” she inhales and stares at him directly with dark honeyed eyes. The only part that ever made him squirm with their unwavering stare. They knew exactly how to stare right through him, exactly like Near. “I want to spend the day with the four of us.”

“Four?” Mello asks, before it dawns upon him exactly what four she means.

“I want you both there,” she speaks firmly, a finality in her tone that leaves no room for argument.

…

After separating from Near, Mello didn’t exactly snap back into the hateful distaste that he so viciously harboured as a child. Katsiaryna complicated the situation and they had come to some sort of silent, mutual understanding that they would never speak ill of the other in front of her or use her as a pawn to spite the other. It forced them to be civil in their affairs. Although she did inevitably mediate between them, they weren’t selfish or hateful enough to stubbornly refuse contact when the need arose. They made all major decisions together, wouldn’t agree to Katsiaryna’s larger demands without consulting the other, and even occasionally contacted each other with cases (even though it was Matt who was mostly the messenger in these instances). Other than that, their interactions had become sterile. Mello hadn’t physically seen Near since he’d packed all his belongings and left eight years ago. He could handle a full day with his ex, couldn’t he? He wasn’t immature and as volatile as he had been at twenty when he thought he was King of the underground. Back then he would have done anything to stifle his feelings for Near; even damaging the other if it meant getting a high of being above him.

After their lunch date, he’d taken Katsiaryna back to his Airbnb and had spent to rest of the day filling in the latest set of details he’d missed of her life. If there was one thing he regrets about no longer living in New York, or the United States, was that Near was the only one who had the privilege of being close to her. He was able to see her more leisurely and was always available when she needed help. There were times when she would send him photos or send snapchats to Matt where he knew she was living or at least visiting Near that made him inconsolably jealous of the closeness he craved to have. However, it had been her decision to return to New York to attend Cornell and that fact that her studies happened to be in state was just a convenient coincidence. He wasn’t blinded by jealousy so much that he’d deny her the right to chose, and when it had come down to saving her life, he had thanked God for Near’s presence that had helped bring her out of whatever darkness plagued her young mind.

As she slept on his good shoulder, the gentle buzz of whatever crime drama they had decided to binge on her Netflix account, and glow from the TV lulling him to sleep, he couldn’t help but stare at her. He couldn’t believe his little girl was becoming a woman. She was the most beautiful thing they’d ever created together; proof that together they could make wonderful things. For that, he could never regret what had transpired between himself and Near… because it had given them Katya.

Broken out of his drowsy musings by the insistent vibrating of her phone on the coffee table, he leaned forward to grab the device, ready to turn it off so they could actually get some sleep. Out of curiosity, he glances at the screen and feels his blood run cold at the name flashing across the screen. On pure impulse he answers it.

“Katya, where are you. Did everything go alright with—”

“It’s me.”

They fall into a deafening silence. Sweat begins to grow as a lump in his throat, and before he can swallow it down to respond, Near beats him to it.

“I’m glad that she’s safely with you.”

“Yeah… she fell asleep.”

“…”

“Well Mello, in the morning please remind her to call me. I’m sure she will want to spend the day with you, however she does have a cosmetic appointment in the evening curtesy of the former SPK before the ceremony. Please make sure she remembers it.”

“I’ll do that. Listen, the day of the ceremony… Katya wants to spend the day with both of us.”

“…as expected. Regardless of current circumstances I assume its natural for a child to want both their parents attend such an important event. Thankfully, I predicted it would turn out this way and I’ve already made arrangement at the restaurant she’s chosen. As for her gift—”

“I got your message and it’s been arranged.”

“Thank you, Mello.”

His grip tightens, and he hates that even though its been so long… that this isn’t their first interaction…he still feels so emotional. He hates that Near can read her so well… him so well that even if he bitched and screamed at Near for quantifying everything and being obscenely polite he knows he’s doing it with Katya in mind. He’s always been able to swallow his emotions down and deal with him at his worst if there was a greater priority. Even he can’t deny that Near would throw himself on burning railroad tracks for her. He just wishes… no, there was always too much damage between the two of them for stability. Permanence was never meant for Whammy’s children, especially for him.

“If that’s everything, I’ll see you at the ceremony.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then Near.”

“Goodnight, Mello.”

He hangs up and throws the phone back on the table. Closing his eyes, he focuses on Katya’s warmth against him and ignores how hard his heart is hammering in his chest.

…

“I can’t believe our Kat is finally a proper lady!” Matt chatters cheerfully, lighting up a cigarette in the car he’d rented for the occasion. “I still remember when she was a downright little shit, terrorizing other innocents at the park, and cheating at Mario Kart.”

He can’t help but smirk at the comment. “Must be quite the shock, considering you even dressed properly for the occasion.”

Matt gives him a deadpan look, fixing the collar of his blue button-up before resting his hand on his tight, grey jeans. “Don’t be such a git, just because I have zero fashion sense—”

“—Understatement of the century—"

“—doesn’t mean I’d be ill-dressed for such an important day! I mean, graduating? When I ‘graduated’ from Whammy’s, it was underwhelming and awkward. It was the bloody happiest I’d ever seen that crusty cockroach Roger look! Then he gave me some cash and told me politely to get the fuck out before a corrupted another child.”

“Ah Roger Ruvie, can’t imagine what he’d say to me.”

“He’d call the police since he’d finally be able to legally arrest you.”

“Good thing I left early then.”

Matt gives him a glare, blowing smoke out the window before tapping loose ashes onto the floor. “Not funny. But seriously, its hard to believe she’s so grown. Good thing she’s as tenacious as the both of you. She’s going to go far in life.”

“I can’t believe it either,” he sighs, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he forces his forever raging emotions to settle at least a little.

“…are you going to cry?”

“What?! No!”

“You totally are! Aweee daddy’s little girl is all grown up!”

“Shut the fuck up Matt!”

“Good thing you’re a hot, young daddy. Have any of her friends tried to hit on you?”

Mello shoots him a glare in response. He’s always been vain and unapologetic for his physicality. Even in his short-sleeved, black button-up sprinkled in small red and white dots and tight black dress pants; his shoes always leather, and his long hair tied messily he knows he looks good. He’s never been low enough to indulge any of Katya’s friends who threw him a look or two. That didn’t mean the attention wasn’t always unwarranted.

“…Maybe.”

“I fucking knew it,” the free-lance hacker snickered in response, still very much the jovial man he had been in his youth with a subtle beard and some grey hairs coming though. “So, Katya’s coming with Near?”

“Katya and Near are being dropped of by Rester.”

“That guy still works for Near? Man, you’d think he’d finally get a driver’s licence or something even if he is waiting for those self-driving Google cars.”

He hummed in response, ignoring Matt’s penetrative stare as he took a final drag and flicked the butt out the window.

“…are you seriously still bitter about Near? Mels how many years has it been.”

“I’m not bitter, I’m indifferent.”

“Yeah and I’m next in line for the throne. Well if you want to be a sour-puss on Kat’s day that’s on you. I for one, am happy to see Near again.”

He forgot how much it bothered him that despite being his best friend, Matt had miraculously been able to form some kind of weird… friendship with Near and the two saw each other more often than he saw Katya. He could blame Matt’s profession as an excuse for frequent travel to the United States, but it still put a bad taste in his mouth no matter how many years its been. Mello convinced himself a long time ago that it doesn’t bother him. Just like it doesn’t bother him that instead of trying to make arrangements with him, Near had to get someone to drive him separately and Katya had chosen to go with him so he wouldn’t be alone. Driving up to the university, Mello convinces himself that its because Katya recently moved back in with Near and all her things were simply there. It was illogical and inconvenient to move all her things to their temporary apartment to get ready, or that Near could have convinced her otherwise. Even though Near would never be his business anymore, he wasn’t juvenile enough to use their daughter as a pawn to get above him. He’d grown out of that inferiority a long time ago.

“It’s weird though, isn’t it?” Matt murmurs, staring at the crowds of students. “that people can have normal lives after everything that’s happened.

Silently, Mello agrees. After Light Yagami’s death there had been high-profile Kira cultists, especially in Japan, but nothing intense enough to be considered more than mischief. Other than tension between world leaders, Kira-supporting countries, and trying to burn out the last remnants of anarchy, the world had mostly returned to normal. It was as if Kira had never existed. At one time, he was sceptical that world order would be returned as quickly as it had. Fixing problems was always more difficult than causing them, and yet it had. The only skeleton of Light’s world domination was in the physical damage major cities sustained. Even twenty-four years later, you would have never guessed that the heart of Manhattan had looked like a war zone.

He suspects it has something to do with the gods of death themselves that liked to tip the scales of fate back and forth in their favours. If there was on thing he remembered beyond the rules of the Death Note was that all death was controlled by the Shinigami. Furthermore, if Whammy’s and the world’s quick relapse had shown him anything it was that people were resilient. Despite his musings, he suspected that Matt was talking about a different kind of normality.

“All things considered Matt, we got lucky.”

“I guess having food, shelter, and basic human rights is a good thing. Would have liked to grow up without the pressure or secrecy of replacing the greatest detective of all time.”

If there was one thing other than Katya, the second thing he would never regret is that he and Near had liquidated the title and legacy of L. They’d both come to abhor how they’d grown up, realized the amount of transparency and power L possessed, and he could attest to the way absolute power absolutely corrupted. Near had worked hard to create a behavioural analytical division that worked within the FBI and occasionally in consultation with the CIA in dealing with high-intelligent criminals. He’d never been able to work in such pristine conditions. After he’d returned to London, he’d began working within MI6 as a HUMINT officer, although as far as Katya knew, they both worked within different divisions of INTERPOL. As far as her friends knew, they worked as detectives.

“I’m glad Katya got to grow up normally,” he whispered, already searching for her amongst the crowds while figuring out a decent place to park.

“Glad and Near made sure she’d grow up in a world where that was possible, mate.”

…

When they finally find Katya and Near among the crowds of families, it isn’t Katya that draws his eye, but Near. Although Near hasn’t dressed in pajamas for years and dressed either extremely casually, if not ridiculously formal, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen him like this. He was wearing colour of all things and he can’t help but gape as his eyes soak in everything. He was wearing slim, navy trousers and a white button up shirt covered in pastel flowers of all things. Near was wearing a flower shirt. Beyond the initial shock of Near’s print choice he still can’t comprehend that he was wearing it in public. He didn’t think Near’s obsession with white and sterile fashion choices made him capable of incorporating colour. Had Katya forced him to dress for the occasion? Or one of his baby-sitting agents? Even if Near had been wearing black and white he’s embarrassed to say that if it weren’t for his white hair, he doesn’t know if he’d even recognize his once-rival. Of course, Near had aged well, but in his mind the other would forever be childlike in his appearance and mannerisms. He wasn’t quite expecting him to look slender and older with gentle wrinkles forming around his eyes, or finally having grown into his broadening shoulders and masculine features.

“Oi Near!” Matt hollers obnoxiously, drawing his attention immediately onto them. “What did the flower say to his daughter on her graduation day!”

“If this is some kind of ridiculous jest at my sexuality –”

“I be-leaf in you!”

He immediately recomposes himself, ignoring Near’s penetrative stare as he smoothly informs Matt that as delighted as he is to see him, his stifling humour is as terrible as it’s always been. Matt promptly throws his arm over Near’s shoulder, whistling at Katya as she laughs at Matt’s unusual way of dispersing tension. When she turns to look at him, he’s struck again with the prickling sensation of emotion. She looks stunning in a long, soft grey body-suit and dusty rose makeup. Her blonde hair had been layered with platinum highlights making it appear more cold-toned than its usual golden hue and was messily braided. He doesn’t want to believe that this small person he’s always protected was finally an adult.

She gracefully makes her way towards him and hugs him tightly. He squeezes back with a shaky exhale, pressing a firm kiss to hair.

“You look beautiful.”

Her hand suddenly tightens on his bad shoulder, pushing him away to stare at him funnily with dark eyes… before pulling him in for another hug. “I’m glad you’re here. But you totally out-dressed me.”

“Should have asked me to style you.”

“I’m twenty-one not twelve!”

“Bad fashion is ageless.”

“There he goes again with his rot. Maybe you should have been fashion police instead of regular police, mate.”

He grins against Katya, keeping his arm wrapped around her shoulder as she begins to complain alongside Matt about his pompous vanity. It doesn’t last long, as Katya’s friends end up finding her despite the crowds of proud, pestering parents and scrambling students. He recognizes that fucker Jace immediately, cocky grin in place with Hannah behind him. Katya waves them over, pulling away from his embrace to greet her friends.

“See Han? I told you Katya’s other dad is super hot for a cop!”

“Shut up!” Katya hisses in response, punching his shoulder.

Glare in place, the moment that idiot stops his insistent chattering he notices his murderous expression and freezes in place.

“Umm… good to see you again Mr. River, sir.”

“It’s Keehl,” he hisses, smiling sickly sweet. Despite how uncomfortable it was to use his real name in public, if this little asshole was going to use it he was going to use it right. Just when he’s about to put that brat in his place, Near can’t help by chime in, polite as always.

“I would be Mr. River, Jace.”

“Yeah don’t mind Mr. Keehl kid,” Matt adds with a grin. “If he ends up butchering you, it’ll be in a more private location and not in broad daylight.”

Katya rolls her eyes, ignorant to the tone Matt was insinuating, before laughing at Jace’s legitimately terrified fac. Hannah laughs that both of Katya’s parents arresting him might actually make this ‘stupid affair’ more palatable. Regardless, she’s whisked away quickly to pick up their black gowns and to find their designated seating before the ceremony starts. Left irritated by her stupid friends made Mello even more grumpy about staying within proximity to his ex for an entire day. Thank God Matt was here to fill up their silence and take control of the conversations. If this day was going to be enjoyable for Katsiaryna, it definitely depending on Matt being able to disperse his already fouling mood.

“So Near, I never knew you would look so good in colour. It’s a nice break from your usual monochromatic palette.”

He can’t help but scowl at Matt’s idiotic and totally not-subtle commentary. He makes sure to give him an unimpressed scowl, even if Near refused to look at him while confronting Matt, but is shocked with his soft-spoken response.

“Katya loves flower print.”

As they make their way into the ceremonial hall, he can’t help but wrestle with Near’s response. Even if he’d push Near off a cliff without any hesitation if he pissed him off fifty ways to Sunday, he would never deny that Near loved Katsiaryna. He just always assumed he didn’t know how to show it. As a child, before their separation, he’d spent countless hours comforting Katsiaryna when she’d been too young to understand Near’s mannerisms and how she’d feel worthless without his affection. He always held Near’s moody silence against him because by no means was he shy, but subtle with affection. A child didn’t always understand subtlety and Katya didn’t deserve to question his devotion. Then again, he used to pride himself on being able to pick up on small nuances and quirky tendencies generated from Near’s autism and felt greedy at being the only one who could make the other open-up. It appeared Katya had surpassed him in increasing Near’s boldness.

Once they’d finally found descent seating, he spots Katya immediately, chatting casually with her peers despite the alphabetical seating, before she begins looking around.

“Hey Mels, Neary, smile for me!” he turns to glare at Matt, ready to bark out that he doesn’t want stupid photos taken without his permission, before he realizes he’d taken a selfie through snapchat. Most likely sending it to Katya so she could find them. As he predicted, Katya glances at her phone, before looking over in their direction and waving. Matt waves back enthusiastically like an idiot, while Near waves shyly with disgusting amounts of pride oozing out of him. He can’t help but feel conflicted during the long start of the ceremony, angry at himself for always being so cynical and analytical of Near’s every fucking action. Just like Katya, Near had grown up. No longer was he an awkward teenager who could barely pick up on social cues and acted robotically as a coping mechanism, but a fully function adult who helped raise their daughter successfully.

Even when Katsiaryna Liv Keehl-River was eventually called and Matt jumped up, whooping loudly and he clapped enthusiastically, he didn’t look embarrassed or out of place. He stood up alongside them proudly. He doesn’t like the thrum of anxiety that begins to beat through him as he starts to feel as if he was a teenager again. What if he had been… wrong. Maybe if he had been more patient and communicative they could have toughed it out and made it work. Even though they’d fumbled through parenthood and were ridiculously lucky that they didn’t horrendously fuck it up, he knows it could have been better. Maybe not for Katya, but for both of them. He shakes the thought as the ceremony begins its close. They’ve always been too volatile together and even when it was good there was always an anxiety of when the next ‘bad’ would hit. Besides, what had happened couldn’t be changed almost a decade later.

As throngs of families begin their exit, he grabs Matt’s arm before the red-head can run out. “Hold up, Matt. I’ll stay with Near.”

Matt turns to him with his eyes bulging over the rims of his tinted glasses.

“Stay? With Near?!” he glances behind him before his voice drops down to a whisper. “I’m sorry I think I misheard you. Run that by me again.”

“Don’t be a jerk, he hates crowds,” and would often let his paranoia get the best of him because of his claustrophobia. “Just text me where you guys are and we’ll find you in a few.”

Matt nods loyally and makes his way out. He sits down, pulling out his phone and plans to make these next few minutes as painless as possible by restricting their interaction.

“Thank you, Mello, that was quite thoughtful of you,” Near responds quietly, sitting down a seat away from him.

“Don’t mention it,” he threatens in return, refusing to look at Near even though he hates the way he can feel his skin crawl when his eyes stare right through him. Once the crowds lessen and Matt had sent him a quick text (‘come find us a few metres away from the front entrance lover-boy ;*’), he wordlessly stood, knowing Near would follow him. Outside wasn’t much better, but at least the small spot they had found was more-or-less spacious. Matt was taking photos on Katya’s phone of her and friends with their diplomas, before they jumped in their ridiculously loose gowns, and threw their expensive rental hats into the air.

“Tata!” Katsiaryna eventually calls when she says goodbye to her friends as they go find their own families, waving him over. He slings an arm around her as she pulls her diploma in front of them.

“You’re too damn high in those heels,” he complains, finally realizing that she was even in height with him.

“Well someone has to put you in your place,” she smiles, tightening her grip around him.

When he switches with Near, the first thing Katya does is straighten his collar and smile warmly.

“I love your shirt, dad,” and Near is the one to pull her into an embrace as a sharp blush begins to cover his pale features with gentle mist shockingly visible in his eyes. “I couldn’t be more proud of you,” he speaks quietly. “You’ve got your entire life ahead of you, Katya.”

As they stand next too each other, he can’t help but realize how similar Katsiaryna actually is to Near. Despite his prevalent features, her unruly waves of hair mimicked the way Near’s used to as a child. Even with her towering height and his sharp features, it was in her graceful movements that he saw Near. Especially in the eyes. Dark, honeyed brown eyes that dripped with emotion is where he saw her as the child Near was before reality hardened them.

“You should take a family photo together!” Matt eventually offers after taking numerous selfies with everyone. His eyes narrow at the suggestion, but as he hears Katya growl at him to get over to her and Near, he forces a toothy grin for her sake. This wasn’t about them, but about her, so he pretends he can’t feel Near’s arm pressing against him as Katya forces them closer together.

“Brill!” Matt cackles and it takes all his willpower not to throw a shoe at him. Finally, he swallows thickly.

“We should get going.”

…

Diner had been luxuriously awkward with Matt and Katya continuously attempting to ease their increasing tension, while their abnormal small talk was ridiculously embarrassing. If it weren’t for Katya, he would have rather blow up another mafia base and suffer horrific third degree burns than sit and play house with Near. Even worse, after diner he’d expected Near to go on his merry way back to his frivolous penthouse in the heart of Manhattan while he’d get Katya for the evening and next few days as previously agreed. Instead, Matt had thought it brilliant to invite Near over to their Airbnb where they could unwind and give Katya her gift. Shockingly, he had agreed, as if he didn’t have a death wish for enticing his explosive wrath and agreed that he rather give it to her in private. He can grudgingly agree that giving Katya a new camera and a ticket for a trip through Peru was better done with the two of them, he would have liked to end their joint-parental obligations there. The worst part was that besides his eternal bitching and moaning of how awkward it was, truly it wasn’t. Perhaps initially in the restaurant their interactions were sterile, but now they were… sickeningly comfortable. They glided through topics smoothly, avoided triggering the other, and were able to find commonalities and memories that weren’t drenched in trauma.

“It’s getting late,” Near eventually spoke as he finished his cup of tea. He was sitting on the couch next to Matt, his fingers fidgeting with the handle of the cup before he reached into his pocket to grab his phone. “I should be getting back home. I’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

“You didn’t take the day off?” Matt asked, taking another sip of his whiskey drink, winking in his direction before continuing to tease Near. “You could always stay the night.”

“Thank you, Matt, but I expected you both to have already made plans with Katya. It’s not everyday that her father and uncle fly in from the U.K. I’ll just need to call a cab, or Gevanni to—”

Mello feels something stir within him and before Near can finish his sentence he interrupts, “I’ll drive you.”

“Thank you, Mello,” he responds curtly, seemingly unaffected despite Katya staring at the both of them with confused and critical eyes. “But I must insist—”

“Shut up,” he interrupts again, already standing and making his way towards the door. “I’ll be back soon,” he calls back at Matt and Katya, already putting on his shoes and grabbing a leather jacket.

Katya seems cautious when standing, throwing side eyes at him, but kisses Near’s cheek before throwing her arms around his neck. She thanks him again for their gift and promises to text him tomorrow before Matt forces him into a hug and ruffles his hair.

He doesn’t know what possessed him to be alone in a car with his ex of eight years but Gevanni always knew how to make his blood boil. Even at forty-five it was enough to let his impulse take control of him and force situations like this upon him. They remain silent as Mello calmly drives through late night traffic, the radio’s soft twang not enough to distract his mind from the burning feelings within him.

“Are you still…” he doesn’t know how to breach this topic, or why he’s even daring try. “Were you and Gevanni even a thing.”

“Frankly, it’s none of your concern, Mello.”

He grits his teeth in response, hating that he still knows how to get to Near’s apartment off by heart and that he cares about relationships Near’s had beyond their own. But life is so short and precious… he’s almost lost it too many times to count and hasn’t always been grateful for the seemingly infinite amount of chances he’s been given. Even with all those chances, its strange that he’s still managed to find things he regrets.

“We,” the licks his lips, words flowing out of him before he realizes what he’s saying. “We did good Near. Not just today, but with Katya.”

“She’s my entire world,” Near whispers, staring at flashing neon lights that make his eyes reflect in that haunting way that always fascinated him. ‘I know’ he wants to say… but keeps it to himself as he focuses on the road. Even when he spent so much time hating and scrutinizing Near he’d always assumed that Near cared for her but didn’t know how. That he wouldn’t understand her like he couldn’t understand him. That maybe he wouldn’t try to fight for her like he so desperately he wanted Near to fight for him. Just like when they were children Near’s proven him wrong every single time. When he finally pulls up to Near’s building, just as Near takes his seatbelt off, his impulses charges again.

“Near,” he calls, and before he knows it the fatal attraction between them has him dizzy again. Mello grabs his shoulder, leans in and kisses Near. Nothing’s ever mattered except for this. The dangerously impulsive way that Near makes him feel with his chapped lips, cold skin, and intoxicatingly fresh scent. Before he can relish in it he pulls away gentle and stares at Near’s large, shocked eyes. Staring through him, searching, and analyzing like they always have. This time however, they don’t appear to be conclusive. As quickly as he’d leaned over, he lets go of Near’s shoulder and leans back into his seat, refusing to look at him. Silence begins to suffocate him and he starts to feel drugged at the proximity.

“Thank you for the ride, Mello,” he whispers once he’s composed himself. “Goodnight.”

The moment the door closes he allows himself to finally look at out the window. He stares at Near’s back, watching him enter his building. The moment he’s out of sight his shoulders sag and his heavy head falls against the steering wheel.

“Shit.”

Find this on ao3 and fanfiction.net under RedMela!

End notes:

tata - dad in Belarusian. I like to headcanon Mello as Slavic and glide through him being either of Slavic mix or coming from various Slavic countries. This time around he's Belarusian. nullius rei me pænitet -- in Latin “I regret nothing” but word for word translation means something more along the lines of “it repents me of nothing” Just in case it wasn't clear, Katsiaryna is Catherine in Belarusian.

Also, I realize this is meant to be twenty years-ish into the future, but considering that in 2007 Ohba and Obata thought Mello's piece of shit phone would be "futuristic" for 2013, I think its safe to say our modern day upgrades would be futuristic enough in the DN universe.

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