Crossover fanfic

[tallulahgs]

[Title] Winner's Satisfaction
[Fandom] Death Note/Battle Royale (manga)
[Rating] PG-13, maybe R, for violence, cursing, and slashy making out
[Characters/Pairings] Mello/Kazuo Kiriyama

Written for and posted to dn_contest, prompt "crossover". *shifty eyes* It's all Kazuo's fault.



Mello has known for a long time that if he's ever going to make it to the top, this guy Kazuo Kiriyama is going to need dealing with. After you've been in his line of work for a while, you get a sense for who's serious competition and who's just got good PR. Kazuo's definitely competition, and Mello does not intend to be second-best ever again.

Oh, sure, some guys say he's just a punk kid who's coasting on the rumours about how he murdered all his classmates, but these are the same guys who think Mello's nothing more'n a scrawny fetch-and-carry boy for Ross. The guys whose opinion matters say Kazuo's the number-one person to ask if you want someone dead. No more, no less. And seeing as that's like the primary transferrable job skill in this universe, Mello thinks he's perfectly justified in seeking neutralise Kazuo as soon as it won't be career suicide.

(It may, of course, be actual suicide, but Mello refuses to believe the bastard's that good.)

His opportunity comes after Kazuo takes out one of Ross's men. Kazuo acting on someone else's orders, but everyone knows who actually pulled the trigger. Mello figures he can eliminate the guy and make it look like overenthusiastic gang loyalty. Which is why he's currently standing on a no-name street in a hot night taking a last bite of chocolate - already melted, god he hates LA summer - with his gun in his hand and the window of his quarry's current apartment three stories above him. Closed. Mello's been watching, saw the guy go in, reasons that approaching via the door will just get him shot in the head, and so, licking chocolate from his lips, he's off up the rusty fire escape. He's good at treading lightly, and the metal structure only shakes a little as he steps up and up past the grimy walls. Off the ground it's a little cooler, and the sky, black orange, hangs around him like smoke, and this is it, it sings in his head like it always does when he's doing something dangerous, this is all there is, just me and you only he doesn't know who the you is. And after a little more clambering there's the window; blind down, the night floating on the surface of the glass.

Kazuo works alone, everyone knows that, 'cause he'll kill anyone you ask him to. So no allies, no one watching from a window across the street or sitting in a parked car. Aw, must be lonely. And no girlfriend sleeping over or family hanging around to be collateral damage; by all accounts the guy's not interested in anything except the job and he doesn't even seem to enjoy that. And he's like the same age as Mello because that's why he's competition and okay, so everyone says he murdered half the people he was at school with but no one can remember the details so it's probably bullshit and hype and all this means that by the time Mello's got the window open (palms slick with grimy sweat) he's got superior.

Orange light bleeds across the bare walls. A kitchenette, a low table, a futon containing a curled-up figure, and then Mello is through that window, off the sill like a cat except -

- tripwire.

Balance skills, honed by years of climbing on every part of Whammy's House that was more than three foot off the ground, kick in, and he regains footing but one hand shoots out ahead of him and then something slices deep and thin into the palm and then as he freezes he sees the droplets of blood, orange light twitching in their surface, hanging on the thin thin strands of wire stretched through the air -

And tripping like a fucking amateur's given him away already, hello, and he whirls and he's firing at the huddled figure (grip slippery with blood) (fucking piano wire, fucking bastard) (good trick, though) (hurts) (muffled pops and even with the silencer it still sounds too loud, stupid in this pathetic little rathole -)

- and then from one darkened corner someone rises up and Mello sees them from the corner of his eye and drops down behind the kitchen cupboard just as bullets burst over his head and the window vanishes in a haze of broken glass and he's rolling now, ducking round the edge of the cupboard and he looses off a shot and - his eyes are used to the dark now and the corner is bare and where the hell is he -

Something slams into his gun hand and the bloodstained weapon is sent flying through the shadow and even as he moves to dive after it he feels something cold touch the side of his head and the part of his mind that's stopped him being dead so far grabs him and makes him just stay still for god's sake -

Silence again. Traffic noises far away, and the blind rattles a little. And far below them, running feet, voices, but no one's going to interfere, not here, not now. Mello can hear his own breathing, too, and the damp thud of his heart (and the sound runs down his arm to his palm and each beat hurts and the blood is warm but oddly light -)

He turns his head.

Kazuo is tall and skinny and his hair is slicked back in a style favoured by Japanese delinquents. His face is shadow. Orange light runs down his arm and picks out the barrel of the gun he's holding.

"Why are you here?" he asks.

Voice is empty. No rage or taunting or even that much curiosity. Just... blank.

Mello smirks up at him and says, "Got any chocolate?"

Kazuo looks at him for a second. Then, "You work for Rod Ross," he says. "Did he send you?"

"Nah, this is a private project. I was investigating -"

(The word makes him think, suddenly, stupidly, of L, and Near, and Kira, and then of how fucking dumb he must look right now and how they'd all laugh and say it's 'cause he's just too impulsive -)

He carries on, shaking away the sudden hot rage, "You've been treading on my toes for a while now. I'm trying to make a name for myself here, and you're just getting in the way."

A nod. Mello wonders why Kazuo hasn't shot him yet. Fear he'll irritate Ross a little too much? But that never seems to have stopped him before. And Mello did start it. There'd be an excuse.

"Most people don't do it for that reason," Kazuo says, and his head tilts a little, as if Mello is a mildly thought-provoking piece of sculpture. "Most people are here for revenge."

"Yeah, well, that tends to happen when you kill their mates." If he kicks out, can he knock Kazuo's feet out from under him, dive for the gun, can he, can he -

Kazuo says, "Why did you leave the orphanage?"

For a moment (but only in his head) Mello does lose it and there's only the dark, hot bloody aching dark and Kazuo knows and get a grip for fuck's sake!

"What the hell do you know about that?" he hears himself snarl.

"I have heard about you, so I did some investigating of my own. It wasn't very difficult."

And that's the thing, maybe it wouldn't be, because Mello's always figured no one would give enough of a damn to go snooping and so what if they did, his past doesn't mean anything to his present and his real name's still locked away because he's not that dumb but somehow, somehow, he's left all that, and his hand hurts and this bastard even sounds a bit like Near -

Gives him the balls to grab Kazuo's gun hand and shove it up away from him even as Kazuo pulls the trigger and the kick shakes through both of them and the bullet almost brushes Mello's hair but he wrenches at Kazuo's wrist and there's no snap but suddenly Kazuo's fingers loosen and Mello snatches at the gun but his bloodied hands fumble it (twisting the wrist widened his cut and his fingers feel far away and don't think) and the weapon flies out into the lake of dark and then Kazuo (just like a snake, supple and muscular and too fast, too limber) is twisting in Mello's grip and they roll across the floor and when they stop Kazuo is on top of Mello, gripping his wrists, and Mello has his hands round Kazuo's throat.

"You were gifted," Kazuo says, boredly, as if their conversation hasn't been interrupted at all. "Your IQ is two points higher than mine."

"I'm meant to be impressed?" Mello won't let his voice shake, he won't. "You're not exactly a poster child for young gifted and talented." He could squeeze, he could see how much of the life he could choke out of Kazuo before Kazuo retaliated, but he suspects it wouldn't be much, and he's not sure his injured hand is up to strangling someone anyway, not right now. "Or are you gonna start telling me I should've... shouldn't have wasted it?"

"Your IQ is two points higher than mine," Kazuo continues, "but yet you always came second. Is that why you left?" His voice is so cold, the only cold thing in the room now, sweat is building up between them and the blood is still so hot and the night is thick and heavy and Mello snarls "Shut up!" and his hands are trying to tighten on his opponent's neck but it hurts and then Kazuo has wrenched Mello's fingers off his throat and Mello realises, numbly, he could've done that at any time, he was just fucking humouring me -

"So it is why."

"Are you gonna kill me?" Mello snaps out, and his breath is coming in quick furious gasps now and the chocolate taste is sour at the back of his mouth, "because if you are I wish you'd get a move on, I hate small talk."

"It's not interesting to always be first."

It's said quietly, with the same lack of emotion as before, but Mello wants to laugh - is this some kind of weird attempt at bonding?

"So you always handed in your homework on time, then?" he sneers. "And then what? You shot up your school 'cause they were mean or something?" (It was school, right? Like fifteen kids killed or something and no one saw it coming -)

"I was experimenting," and Kazuo doesn't sound bothered, there's not any sense of crossing a line or don't talk about it or - and there shouldn't be, the guy's a hired killer, but Mello wants there to be, he wants this guy to be weak, he wants this guy to lose -

(not scared of anything)

"What, to see what happens when you shoot someone in the head?" He makes himself laugh. "Surely one person would've been enough."

"Maybe." A pause, then, "They all bleed out red, after all. That wasn't interesting, either."

Mello remembers the first time he shot someone and how (it wasn't cool, it was just messy, and the smell made him want to throw up, only he didn't, of course) how he felt so much more alive, just 'cause he was him and all the blood and brains were still packed away neatly inside his skull whereas the other guy was spread all over the concrete, and the life was humming in his skin and behind his eyes, kind of like when you're turned on but not, and that was when the this is it, this is all there is first started playing in his head, and that was when he first started wearing crucifixes, like as a two-fingered salute to the idea there could be anything else -

But it had been interesting.

Kazuo stares down at him and he wonders if he's only still alive because Kazuo wanted to see if he was interesting too, and if that's the case then he's probably fucked because Kazuo's voice hasn't changed once since they've been talking.

"Why did you do it?" Kazuo says. "Why did you leave?"

"Because I wanted to be the best, and I wasn't going to make it if I stayed stuck there." Mello hears his voice grow sour. Too sour. God, it's pathetic to care when you're not even telling the whole truth. Because they wanted me to work with that white bastard and I'd rather have clawed my own eyes out. But that makes him sound like Near bothers him, like Near drove him away, and it's not like that either, it's not -

"And now you're here. Because you want to be the best."

He still sounds bored. No way is this conversation going to last much longer. Outside a siren passes, but it doesn't stop. Mello lets his breathing slow; the warm air clogs his throat. There's a lot of ways you can kill someone with your bare hands. He figures he knows most of them, but once Kazuo starts will he be able to move fast enough - Kazuo's quick -

He knows distraction, too. Words won't cut it, not with this guy. Not much will, probably.

So he stretches up, as much as he's able to, and kisses as hard as he can at the deeper darkness of Kazuo's mouth.

(He's never seen the point of pretending making out with a guy makes you a wuss. He figures he'll fuck who he wants and if anyone has a problem with it he'll break every bone in their hand until they stop having a problem with it.

He also figures his only hope right now is to knock Kazuo off-balance, because, basically, Kazuo is that good and Mello has no intention of dying here.)

Kazuo's hands tighten on his wrists and for a moment he's still, completely, against Mello's lips, come on, come on, react, you bastard, just relax it, just for a bit -

And then Kazuo kisses back. A hard kiss, pushes Mello's head back down so his skull's touching the floor again, but hey, a reaction at last. Oh, only interested in your work? Oh, of course. Mello leans up again, kisses more fiercely, and then sudden sharp pain as Kazuo nips at his lower lip (well - isn't like either of them are going to be interested in chaste vanilla stuff). The nip distracts him from the chewing pain in his hand (roars in the background like traffic) and now he's shivering, feels the heat and sweat crawl over him. How much blood's he lost? Hopefully not too much. That must be why his head's swimming like this. Kazuo's tongue in his dry mouth, his heartbeat pulsing in his hand and behind his eyes. Hot and cold and hot - Keep it together. Kazuo might see through this, but he clearly doesn't get much, so maybe he'll be taken aback by the arousal. Or maybe he won't and Mello will end up dead on the floor, but hey, at least he'll have had some fun first, right?

Just kidding. No way he's going to end up dead.

They break the kiss. Mello licks his lips - Kazuo tastes of nothing very much, toothpaste and summer air -

"Interesting enough for you?" he murmurs, and dives up to bite and suck and kiss at Kazuo's throat, taste smears of his own blood, lick at bruises he hoped he left earlier, and he hears, feels, Kazuo's breathing quicken, and he slides his leg up against the other guy's and yeah, Kazuo's definitely getting something out of this, even if he's bullshitting it as much as Mello is -

- and it isn't like Mello isn't getting something out of this, or hopes to anyway, he can feel himself arching himself up against Kazuo's body because damn it this is frustrating now and if he's going to go through with it, he - damn it - Kazuo's kiss forcing his head back, but focus, he could, while you're distracted, he could -

He's there, he's fucking there -

And he thrusts against the other guy one more time and then, then as he does, Kazuo shifts away, just a little, because, because he wants to prolong it?, or because he wants to see what happens if he denies someone something they want -

because he wants to see me lose -

And Mello slams his leg up into the guy's balls as hard as he can.

Well. He would've done. Except that Kazuo guesses, that's got to be it, he figures it out, because he rolls off a split second before and that is just enough for Mello to break free and then he's diving, diving into the shadow for one of the guns and he can just make it out and his injured hand is definitely not pulling its weight but fuck that, he snatches the weapon up and whirls and fires, one, two -

Kazuo is hit, shot in the shoulder it looks like, because he was already moving and the bullet makes him stumble a second, but then the next second he's ducking under the wire and he's out, out of the window, a scatter and clink of broken glass and the blind swings and then the clank of footsteps on the fire escape. Mello is up and leaning out and pulling the trigger again but this time there's nothing, just a click.

"Shit."

And Kazuo is gone.

Mello shrugs, goes to receive his own gun. His entire palm and the inside of his wrist is covered with dried blood, and moving the fingers doesn't seem like a good idea. What's also probably not a good idea is going looking for Kazuo when he's only got one working hand. Or when I'm this horny, right? Ha. Anything could happen.

There are three outcomes to the night. First one is that Mello gains a thin scar across his hand like another palm-line (although no gypsy fortune-teller would divine anything good from it). Second is he starts carrying two guns.

Third -

He figures he'll get a chance to have a rematch. There's gonna have to be a rematch, right? After all, reputations are at stake. Someone's got to win.

But he never gets the chance. A month afterwards, Kazuo's being driven out to do what he does best and someone's brakes fail. Car goes off a bridge and never found. Wasn't anything to do with Kazuo, it was someone who wanted the people who'd employed him dead. Mello's sorry, because he wanted that rematch, but not a little glad, because he likes being alive.

A year later, someone posts him a card. It's the kind of fluffy crap you'd buy anywhere; a plump kitty on the front wearing football colours and raising a medal, with the caption You Won!!

The card is unsigned. But Mello knows who it's from. He burns it, sits watching it crumble. First time being told he won ever felt unsatisfying. Stupid, though. Isn't winning what it's about? Fuck it's not interesting to always be first. Mello's gonna test that theory and prove it's bullshit. He grins, and takes another bite of chocolate, and the fire light glows on his palms.

Comments

[ecchipiro.livejournal.com]

I really enjoyed this. Loved the tension and the way you described the scenery. I have no idea who Mello is, but he seems quite interesting. Kazuo was simply amazing! I agree with your tag. :D

[tallulahgs]

Wow, thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed even though you don't know Death Note ^^ (Mello is an edgy teenager genius with an attitude problem who's joined the Mafia... pretty much what is implied in the fic, so yeah ^^) The tag speaks truth :D

[devolutions.livejournal.com]

Again, I don't know Mello, but this was excellent. Your description is unrivalled in this, and I love the idea of the card at the end. Nice. :3

And your tags made me laugh for real.

[tallulahgs]

Thanks very much! I really enjoyed the description so I'm glad you liked it!

I only speak the truth ^^