Chapter Text
Mello has one hazy memory of his mother.
He’s assembled every detail with hyper focus, trying to draw every micro-expression out of the encounter. In his memory she’s slender, with short hair (light coloured like his) and a soft black turtleneck.
He must be small in the memory because she’s carrying him around what he recognizes to be a hotel room. She rocks him, letting him whimper with some kind of head flu that makes everything hazy, and sings to him. It’s some kind of eighties pop song but none of the lyrics seem to be in English. She says something to him, something he recognizes as a term of endearment, and from the way she works her words he thinks she’s speaking in an Asian language even if he can’t exactly pick which one.
His father enters the room. Mello is certain of that. Same white shirt, same jeans, same wild hair and sharp, brooding, English features.
“Kira, do you know where the [---] report is?” His father asks, though Mello’s brain hazes the specifics.
His mother rounds, pivoting sharply enough to make toddler Mello feel sick, and hisses in a voice that explodes chills down his spine.
“If you’re not going to help leave.”
“You were the last one with the file.”
“You’re so useless,” she snaps, rocking Mello more aggressively. “Find it yourself. I do everything myself.”
His father sighs and, for once, doesn’t win an argument.
Mello is vaguely away of his father stalking away as his mother bundles him up closer to her mouth and hums into his temples. She murmurs something into his clammy skin, something like; “Ā watashi no chīsana gaki…”
She smells like something sharp, like the mistletoe and nettles outside Grandpa’s house in Winchester.
It’s the clearest memory Mello has of her.
She’s gone before his fourth birthday. He knows that.
But it’s not until he’s eight that he gathers the courage to start asking questions.
He lives with his father, and his grandfather, floating between a series of hotel penthouses and pampered English estates. Mello doesn’t really compute they’re rich because he’s always been surrounded by richness. But there are some things he knows; his Grandpa is a sunny day and his father is a distant, cold, ever looming moon over his life.
Mello likes his father, but he doesn’t often understand him. And he’s not always sure the feeling is mutual. He seems to irritate his father, annoy him. He knows his father works a lot. He’s always working. Working on important things. Big things Mello’s not allowed to know about because they’re ‘not for kids’. But mothers are for kids, right?
“Dad…?” Mello hangs off the arm of his desk chair.
“Hmm?” His father grunts, face illuminated by the glow of the screens.
“Did Mom die?”
His father stops typing.
But Mello’s attention is draw away as his always effortless Grandpa drops something and, coughing, hurries to clean it up.
“Why do you ask?” His father, L, tugs him back, adding a sugar cube to his tea.
“Well, it’s just…” Mello palms his neck, shifting between his toes. “Everyone at school has a Mom and I don’t so…”
“Your mother and I divorced.”
“Divorced?” Mello plays with the word.
It’s unfamiliar in his nice, neat, world.
“We stopped being married.”
“So she had to stop being my Mom too?” Mello concludes.
“It’s complicated.” L sips his tea in a loud, offensive, slurp. “Your mother was an egomaniacal psychopath.”
His Grandpa coughs, harder, like he’s trying to communicate something.
L glares at him over Mello’s head, unflinching.
Mello doesn’t know what those words mean, exactly, but he knows his father usually reserves them for ‘criminals’ the subset of bad guys he deals with like some illustrious garbage man.
“We’re better off without your mother.” L declares. “Now, if you don’t mind,” he pulls his keyboard closer, “I need to finish this email.”
“But—”
“Watari!” L grunts. “Do you mind?”
Grandpa hurries forward, taking Mello’s shoulder, talking in those honeyed voices he uses for bad news days. Like when their zoo trips get cancelled. “I think it’s time for lunch, Mello. Hmm? Let’s go eat.”
By the time Mello has turned thirteen they’re living in Connecticut for the year and he has all but forgotten his mother. It’s a tender wound. It hurts when he prods it. But for most of the year he can lock the thought in a closet and not disturb it.
Matt, his best friend in the whole world, is allowed to spend a lot of time at their house now they have a house for him to spend time at.
Grandpa gives Mello a little more space, now he’s older, drifting between helping L and tending to Mello’s needs in a slow, tide like, rotation across the house.
Today Matt and Mello are bored.
And, being bored, they’re doing something they probably shouldn’t be doing.
They’re digging in Grandpa’s office.
“I bet he has cigars,” Matt whispers with reverent excitement.
“We should fid them!” Mello declares, and its that resolve that sets them on a collision course with trouble due to arrive at the house in the mid-morning.
They’re digging in a drawer when—
“Oh hey!” Matt pulls out the carefully curated piece of paper. “It’s your birth certificate!”
“Huh?” Mello snatches it out of his hand.
“Whoa, relax,” Matt laughs. “You never seen your birth certificate before?”
“I mean…” Mello fumbles. “I know I have one, but I’ve never seen it.”
But if it’s his birth certificate—
Yes, there.
Father: L Yagami-Lawliet.
Mother: Light Yagami-Lawliet
“Light? That’s such a hippie name,” Matt teases.
Mello swallows over the words.
“Dude…?” Matt softens.
“I’ve never met my mom,” Mello whispers. “I don’t really remember her.”
Matt blinks and, seemingly to realize this is serious, galvanizes into a detective.
“Did she die…?” He asks delicately.
“No, they got divorced.” Mello murmurs. “Dad says she was crazy.”
“Your Dad is Lawliet, right?” Matt leans hard over his shoulder, crowding him. “Maybe they hyphenated their surnames when they got married?”
“So Light Yagami?” Mello concludes.
“Maybe.”
“What does Yagami sound like?”
“What do you mean?”
“In my memory,” Mello fumbles, “I think she’s Asian…?”
“Huh,” Matt rues. “Let’s google it.”
Mello whips out his phone, putting the birth certificate down.
‘Yagami’ appears to be a Japanese surname.
And there are several Yagamis on Facebook, even if Mello can’t read the profiles exactly despite auto-translates best attempts.
“Dude!” Matt gasps.
“Huh? What?” Mello jerks his head back towards Matt.
“Look! Look!” Matt waves the birth certificate at him.
“What?” Mello snaps, gut clenching anxiously.
“One of two.” Matt hisses.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you have a twin!”
Mello freezes. “What…?” He whispers.
“Yeah! One of two!” Matt shows him. “They do that on birth certificates with multiple births!”
Mello snatches the birth certificate back. “I have a twin…?”
“You have to!”
Mello breathes harder.
Pushing up, birth certificate gathered in his hands, he storms through the house.
Past the nice furnishings, past the big plasma TV, and—
Kicking the door open to his father’s office Mello storms in.
Grandpa looks up from his desk, but L doesn’t.
L rubs his chin, inspecting a screen, even as Mello comes, wild eyed, to his chair.
“What?” L grunts.
“You lied to me!” Mello says, holding the birth certificate up angrily.
L blinks, trying to read what Mello is waving at him, and then—
L plucks it out of his fingers. “Where did you get this?”
“I have a twin!” Mello stamps his foot. “You never told me and I have a twin!”
L sighs deeply. “Watari, I think it’s time to take Mathew home, yes?”
Grandpa hurries up, grabbing Matt’s shoulders and pivoting him back out of the room with a gentle, urging, voice.
Mello is too angry to even look back.
“I have a twin!” Mello repeats when L doesn’t seem to be preparing to say anything.
“Yes.” L sighs, holding the birth certificate up.
“I have a sister or--?”
“A brother.”
A thought, raw and sharp, stabs at Mello’s gut—
“Is he with Mom?” Mello shrieks.
“It was the simplest arrangement.” L rues, putting down the slip of paper.
“You split us up! And you didn’t even tell me!” Mello pants. “When were you going to tell me?”
“I figured we’d have this discussion when you were eighteen.”
“That’s not fair!”
“Maybe not,” L concedes, “anyway, that’s a moot point now.”
Mello digs his nails into his palms.
“I want to meet her!” He declares.
“Who?”
“Mom! And my brother!” Mello demands. “I want to meet them!”
L winces, glancing back at the screens, tucking his thumb into his mouth in a way that skews his thin lips.
L seems to consider it for a moment.
But—
Sighing L slumps his head forward.
Rubbing hard at his forehead with his fingertips, L swears and fishes up his cell phone off the desktop.
“What’re you--?” Mello starts to wail.
“I’m calling your Mother.” L answers curtly.
Mello chokes.
L taps a button and, Mello realizes, she’s still in his contacts.
“Here.” L hands the phone to him.
Mello freezes.
“It’s ringing.” L waggles it.
Mello snatches it and scrambles out of the room.
In the hallway he holds it tight to his ear, heart throbbing in his chest.
“What do you want?” A clipped, accented, voice demands.
A man’s voice…?
“I, uh—” Mello fumbles. “I’m looking for L-Light Yagami…?”
“Who is this?” The man demands.
Mello’s heart beats into his throat. “I’m Mello—I-I mean, I’m Mihael Lawliet and—”
“Mello?” The man rasps.
“Y-yeah…?” Mello stumbles to silence.
The man is very quiet for a moment.
“I was…” Mello hugs himself weakly. “I’d really like to talk to Light Yagami, please…?”
“I understand,” the man replies, in a much calmer voice. “Mello, I’m going to organize that for you, okay? Do you have a Zoom account? I think this would be better if I could see your face.”
Mello swallows. “Yeah, I’ve—For school, I’ve got an account for school.” He finishes lamely.
“Why don’t you go to your computer?” The man instructs patiently. “You turn that on, log in to your Zoom account, and call me right back.”
“I don’t know how to—Can’t you stay on the phone with me?”
“I just need to cancel my appointments.” The man tells him. “Then you can have me all afternoon, okay? Promise. Just turn your computer on and call me back.”
“O-okay…” Mello whispers, not quite understanding.
He rushes back across the house to his room.
Unfolding his Christmas present gaming laptop he loads up the desktop and starts clicking into apps. He checks his webcam, frantically trying to fix his hair. Does he look okay? Will she care?
Hands shaking he calls the last number right back.
The contact is listed as ‘Kira’, the name Mello remembers from his scrap of lived experience.
“Hey, you logged in?” The man greets, voice rolling back into smoother, calmer, waves with every second.
“Yeah.” Mello murmurs.
“Okay, now I need you to go to your profile—” The man talks him through getting his number so they can organize a call.
As the Zoom call starts ringing Mello hangs up the phone and, almost petrified into place, taps the button on his mouse perhaps too aggressively.
A man greets him but—
Mello’s jaw slackens into a looser hold.
He recognizes that cooper hair, those amber eyes, the feline jawline…
“Hi Mello,” the man laughs weakly, “gosh you look so grown up…”
Mello fumbles, “I-I’m confused, I thought…?”
The man hesitates, running a hand through his hair. “Mello, have you heard about transgender people?”
“They like…” Mello grabs at straws, brain chewing through molasses. “They’re born in the wrong body, right? Like they’re born a boy but they want to be a girl, stuff like that?”
“Right,” the man nods. “So I was assigned female at birth. But I’m a boy.”
“So…?”
“When your father and I got married,” the man, Light he realizes, fills in the gaps, “we wanted biological children. So I got pregnant with you and—”
“And my brother?” Mello lurches.
“Yes, and your brother.” Light agrees. “So I am your mother biologically.”
“S-Should I not call you that…?” Mello starts to compute.
“Can you call me Dad, sweetheart?” Light smiles.
Mello nods urgently. “I can do that.”
“I didn’t think I’d hear from you yet,” Light folds his arms on the desktop in his webcam footage. “I was expecting until you turned eighteen…”
“I found my birth certificate.” Mello explains. “I didn’t realize I had a twin…?”
Light scoffs, “of course. He didn’t tell you.”
Clearly irritated Light rubs at his face.
Mello swallows. “What’s he called?”
“Hmm?” Light lifts his gaze back to the screen.
“My brother…?”
“Nate,” Light replies, “but we call him Near. Sort of like how you’re Mello.”
Mello laughs, head spinning. “He lives with you?”
“Yes.” Light volunteers. “We’re in New York.”
Mello’s heart lurches.
They’re so close!
So close and he didn’t even know!
“Does he know about me?”
“Yes,” Light nods.
“He didn’t want to…?”
“I’m sure you have a lot of complicated feelings, Mello, and this is very confusing for Near too. I think he’s a little scared you wouldn’t want to meet him.” Light explains.
Mello tries to breathe steadier.
“I-I do though,” Mello rasps. “I want to meet you both. Can I…?”
Light softens visibly. “Of course you can, baby.” He promises with a subtle fierceness. “You can absolutely meet me and your brother in person. Would you like to come see us?”
Mello nods frantically. “Yes! Please!”
Light smiles. “I’ll talk to your father. I’ll make it happen.”
Mello beams, heart skittering a beat.
“I want to know s-so much about you,” Mello fumbles stupidly.
“I want to know everything about you,” Light promises with a pinched nosed smile, like a particularly happy cat.
Mello hands the phone back to L a little while later, bouncing on his toes.
He opens his mouth, to explain—
But the phone starts ringing.
Incoming Call: Kira.
L winces ominously.
“Can I--?”
L waves him off. “This is an adult conversation. Private.”
Mello pouts and slams the door as he leaves but, sinking down onto his butt in the hallway he presses his ear desperately against the door.
His father types, phone on speaker.
Mello’s never heard his father talk so aggressively.
And Light…?
Mello can’t make out everything they’re saying too each other.
But Light sounds like a totally different person.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen. We agreed—” L grumbles.
“Well, the cat’s out of the fucking bag now!” Light snaps.
“I don’t know what you told him but—”
“I told him he can come see us!”
“You did not.” L growls.
“Of course I did!” Light booms. “And if you think you’re going to keep me from seeing my baby a second longer Lawliet--!”
“My baby, our baby,” L snaps. “I raised him. You agreed—”
“I don’t fucking care what you strong armed me into ten years ago!”
L laughs, rough and mean. “Strong armed you? Ha! The Devil himself couldn’t make you—”
“I don’t care!”
“—No one has ever been able to convince you of anything a day in your life, I could never—”
“I don’t fucking care!” Light screams loud enough that Mello winces.
L types aggressively.
“Near wants to see you too,” Light huffs. “Don’t you want to see Near?”
“Of course I want to see Near,” L snaps. “Don’t make this about me. It’s you we’re talking about. I don’t want you anywhere near Mello.”
“Well fuck you Lawliet,” Light spits. “Cause Mello is old enough to say what he wants now and if he wants to see me, I’d like to see you hold me off. I walk this in front of any custody court in the country and—”
“Ha!” L cackles. “I’d pay good money to see you walk into a courthouse! Just once! You’d melt like the witch you are!”
Mello swallows.
There’s definitely history here.
“You are going to let me see my baby!” Light warns fiercely. “And, just because I’m nice—“
L laughs.
“—Just because I’m nice,” Light repeats with strain, “I’ll even let you see Near.”
L huffs but stops shouting.
“Fine.” L spits. “Fine. We’ll work something out.”
“Thank you,” Light clips.
It’s clear they both want to make a barb.
They circle for a moment, air tense, but Light backs them off the ledge first.
“The boys are starting summer vacation soon. We can both have a turn.” Light declares. “Week with you, week with me, or something. Deal?”
“Fine.” L grunts.
Mello does a little silent cheer, vibrating on his ass in the hallway.
“I assume you’re still living with Watari?”
“Of course.”
“Then he can take them back and forth.” Light offers. “I’m sure he’d love that.”
L sighs thickly. “Yes, I’m sure he would.”
Mello falls back against the floor, swimmingly his legs delightedly on the tile.
“No one better be eavesdropping!” L booms through the door.
Mello lurches, scrambling away.