Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

A/N: All right! So it's been much too long since I last posted an MxM fic, so here we go! It's not at all like the ones I posted during my MelloMatt Fanfiction Writing Spree of the summer of '09 (XD) but I do like it.

Anyway, thanks for stopping by! :D

Everyone at Wammy's House will remember the day Mello left.

True, it was the day we found out about L's death. We were all prepared for it, however, from the moment he said he was taking on the Kira case. We all knew it could happen, (and I personally suspected that it most likely would) so I, at least, wasn't surprised. I was probably the only one to take it so calmly, however.

Mello, for example, was out of control that night. He destroyed everything he came across as he stormed off to his room to pack his bag. He put his fist through some of the walls as he passed, left gouges in others, tore off molding and threw it at anyone who happened to be in the hallway. He ripped the door to his room nearly off its hinges, and it's never been quite the same. He pounded into his room like a hurricane and slammed the door shut behind him so hard that the plaster around the doorframe cracked like spider's webs.

And Matt.

Matt, his roommate, was there to take the full brunt of Mello's wrath. He didn't even know yet that L was dead, since Roger had told Mello and myself before he told anyone else, and so he had no warning at all. He simply looked up at his best friend as the door did its violent, Mello-induced dance, and warily waited for Mello to start screaming.

Which he did.

Incidentally, that is how everyone else at Wammy's found out about L. Most of them heard Mello screaming that night, and the rest of them heard the rumors. He had never been a quiet person, but no one had ever heard him this clearly from the other floors of the House before. And from outside.

Screaming, barely coherent, Mello crashed around their shared room, whipping anything he could get his hands on. Matt did not even move to protect his beloved games; his eyes never left Mello. Mello never touched Matt's games, which is how I finally knew for sure that he loved him.

When Mello could find nothing else to destroy (when the only things intact in the room were Matt and his games), after he had flipped their desks and smashed their clocks and shattered their lamp into a million pieces, he turned again to the walls. These were made of tougher stuff, though, because it was not long before the wall began to win the disagreement. There was too much adrenalin in Mello's body for him to feel that he was shattering his hand.

The moment it wasn't just objects being destroyed, the moment it wasn't beneficial to Mello, Matt leaped forward from where he had been standing calmly and grabbed Mello by the wrist as he drew it back to introduce it yet again to the wall.

Mello reclaimed his arm with a violent jerk and rounded on Matt, but never raised a hand.

"Mels," Matt said softly, looking straight at Mello, and suddenly all the energy drained out of him. He burst into tears and grabbed Matt around the waist, enveloping him and weeping. Then, and only then, did Matt cry as well, although I've never been sure whether it was because L was dead, or if it was because Mello's hero was dead. They fell asleep in each other's arms that night, and no one, including Roger, dared to wake them up to confront Mello about his path of decimation.

The next morning, Mello was gone. No note, no warning. He left a chocolate bar on his pillow, as if that was enough of a goodbye for Matt.

But L's death and Mello's subsequent dramatic exit are only part of the reason that the day went down in Wammy history as something never to be mentioned again, as with the things BB did and the day of A's suicide.

The other half was that Matt was never, ever the same.

Not everyone could tell, of course. For some people, L's death and Mello's raucous egress were the only reasons the day was censored out of everyone's conversations, once the initial drama died down. But for those of us who could tell- me, Roger, Linda, and a few others that knew Matt better than the rest, never brought it up again because we simply couldn't do it to him.

The day Mello left, Matt came flying out of his room, casting about frantically, clutching feverishly at the chocolate bar. He ran to the kitchen and the cafeteria. He ran to the classrooms, all of them. He ran to everyone's dorm doors and pounded on them hard enough to rattle the doors next to them on either side, screaming nothing but Mello's name, over and over. Every time he said it, he sounded closer and closer to tears, and it became more and more of a plea. He tried every room in the place, and then he got creative with that incredible and underused brain of his. Laundry shoots. Dumpsters. Under bushes on House grounds. Anywhere and everywhere that could fit a small blond boy and dozens of places that couldn't (including the mailbox), Matt checked and double-checked.

He didn't stop running until Roger stopped him physically; grabbing him close and holding him like a child. I didn't hear what he said to him, but Matt's body gave out and he wept.

He cried harder than Mello had for the death of L, only the night before.

That part, everyone in the House knew about. He caused quite a bit of chaos and, of course, the whole affair immediately brought to attention the fact of Mello's absence.

But the people that didn't know him... when Matt went 'back to normal' the next day, they actually believed it. To me, at least, it could not have been more obvious.

Yes, he still played his games as devotedly as he did before Mello left. Yes, he still ate and slept and bathed his regular amounts. Yes, his grades stayed the same (although he became ranked second by default), and yes, he still attended House events like Christmas, and sang the Christmas carols with the rest of the children. Yes, he still smiled, and laughed, and cried, and complained, and apologized, and talked, and got mad. Nothing appeared to change.

But I could see, and a few others could see, that, although nothing was different, he was.

Because, to Matt, if there's no Mello, there's no point. To Matt, his purpose is to balance out Mello. To provide the unconditional love and devotion that someone like Mello needs from someone like Matt. Matt was the one that could calm him down, the one that Mello would always come to.

And if there was no Mello?

If there was no Mello, Matt was just a video-game-playing waste of space.

Or so he told me one night, very, very late. He does not remember having that conversation, but I remember every word.

Matt's happy enough. He has other friends and other things to do with his time. He might even be happier than he was with Mello, since Mello put so much drama into the lives of everyone around him. He told me he misses his smell, though. His hair. His energy. His powerful hugs, through which you could feel his limitless energy pouring into you. His eyes. The endless grace with which he moved.

He's happier, he told me woozily that night (I may have drugged him), but being happy is nothing compared to holding Mello.

Without Mello, there's no Matt. And until the day he comes back, if he ever does, there never will be.