Title: Guilty secret

Series: Death Note

Characters & Pairing: Matt-centric, with some Mello and Near references

Genre: General, Humour

Rating: K+

Spoilers: Very few, very minor, and very vague.

Warnings: Some bad language.

Status: Complete

Summary: Set during the time-skip. Matt's skills and pride are challenged by a new game, featuring Hello Kitty.

GUILTY SECRET

He never meant to buy it.

Really; he only picked the damned thing up because for a second Badtz-Maru reminded him of Mello (Mello who abandoned him, Mello who smirked and had the same sarcastic look of "Are you really that retarded?" as the little black penguin) and he couldn't resist a closer look and moment of (soul-crushing, heart breaking) reminiscence. He was going to put it back, too - but then that smarmy employee smirked at him, taking in the goggles and punk t-shirt that were so incongruous with that sodding pink box, and that part of Matt that thought people were twats (generally, this part is correct, to be fair) rose up, making him smile back like a feral dog and stomp over to the cash desk.

When he gets back to his little Camden flat, he wonders why he didn't just ditch the bloody thing. Sure, he loves gaming of any form. However. He has standards.

Somehow, he really doesn't think that "Hello Kitty: Roller Rescue" meets them.

Three days later and it's pissing it down with rain, Kira's on the news again, his Tesco delivery's late and somehow The Clash's Greatest Hits has toothpaste on it. Badtz-Maru still stares up from that pink cover, and it's a matter of the day having already gone to hell, so what could it hurt?

A lot, apparently.

Of course, it's a good thing that the game isn't nearly as bad as he thought it would be – despite the bad guys being "Block Troops" – literally blocks, and what unimaginative tool came up with that? – and him having to hit them with a wand. The cakes are a nice touch, though, and Keroppi is damned helpful (and chatty enough that he doesn't remind him too much of his other favourite genius). All in all, it wasn't an entirely bad buy.

However. The fact that he can draw parallels to way too many shoot-'em-ups (including Metal Gear, a fact that instils new fear of all children into him) is a bit worrying.

Then, when he reaches the fourth mission and fails for the sixth time, he decides his issues are bigger than a few combat-ready brats.

No one, absolutely NO ONE, is ever allowed to find out about this.

Matt is not posing as an eight year-old girl on a chat room for the usual reasons.

The fact is that even when he buried that fucking game under a pile of dirty washing and not-just-a-few old textbooks, he could still feel the glare of that fucking penguin like a laser to his spine, and he wouldn't put up with it (wouldn't let Mello treat him like that ever again, when the self-important prick ever got back in touch).

So. It's four in the afternoon and Matt's new name is Sarah and he thinks Hello Kitty is "sooo cute!" He's not proud of asking these kids for hints on how to get past that goddamn cuboid and his tank, but he needs to finish this game. He has to. He cannot be defeated by a game for ages 3 and above.

He's also a bit disturbed that a part of him is genuinely starting to want some roller blades.

He's going crazy. Matt knows he is, because he has to be. If he's sane and buying Hello Kitty notebooks to write down all his strategies and cheats and hints he doesn't want to live anymore (not least because the last game he had to do this for was Shinobi, and, before that, Contra).

Luckily, blocks and trains with smiley faces and That Fucking Penguin are starting to haunt his nightmares more often than killers with mystic powers (usually those killers aiming those powers at Mello, actually, much as he tells himself he doesn't give a damn), so he's pretty sure the insanity is confirmed.

Thank Christ.

He was in the zone. He was absolutely in the zone, kicking arse and taking names, and then bloody Mello had to go and set off the bloody beeper on his laptop by getting his useless (and far too fucking vulnerable) arse involved with the Mafia.

The git. The utter, total git.

Just one more minute and he could've taken that block, got to a save point, and things would be golden! Instead, he had to go back and start over, wasting more of his rapidly dwindling sense of reason (what was it with Mello and constantly driving him mental, anyway?).

He should probably get on to the big man and lay the groundwork for the Blonde Demon first though. Ross, after all, doesn't know about The Kitty Project and hence still respects the genius hacker.

Besides, Matt hasn't sat on those raid plans for two months to hear a negative in return.

Sometimes, while he's coding protection for criminal groups and police records, while he's keeping Mello in the Mafia's eye, while he's listening in on Near and forming his own theories, while he's tracking all known "Kira Investigation" groups and monitoring all his sick support forums, Matt wonders.

How pissed would the sad-act mass-murderer be to know that, on Matt's list of priorities, he came second to a roller-blading cat?

Two weeks after Matt had to run and save Mello from burning to death under a pile of rubble (in a stupidly suicidal move he will never be forgiven for), Mello can finally drag his own arse out of bed. This means that the offensive pink box has returned to under the washing pile (no fucking way will the blonde diva go near that, at least) and Matt is back to his usual games. Devil May Cry 3 is proving difficult as all Hell, which is a distinctly good thing. Mello can move. Mello might walk in. Matt is not going to let the sadist find out about Hello Kitty. Hence, difficult games that will (WILL, dammit!) distract him from the unfinished rollerblading cat saga.

At least he can't feel Badtz-Maru's sarcastic glare anymore. No, now he has Mello's sarcastic glare.

His sodding Wal-Mart delivery's late again.

Another week later, Matt's revisiting the torture that is Ninja Gaiden Black's hard mode, and dives on his box of notebooks. Mello's out and can't complain about the mess, so his natural reaction is to shoot straight back on and take out as much of his frustration as possible before his roommate comes back with the Chinese.

Unfortunately, this prompts Mello's usual greeting to evolve into, "What the fuck, you girl?"

Matt wasn't third at Wammy's for nothing. The bright pink book gripped in Mello's hands (just under Mello's face, with it's, well, never mind shit-eating, it's more of a steal-your-first-born-and-sell-her-to-whatever-devil-answers-his-calls-first grin) doesn't surprise him.

On the plus side, he now has free reign to taunt the leather-clad maniac about being out-glared by a penguin.

Let battle commence.