Death Note Fan Fiction / Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ Tales of a Forgotten Time ❯ My Name Is Mello ( Prologue )

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Mihael stared suspiciously at the man across the table from him. He was old, even older than the woman who ran the orphanage. He looked at Mihael the way that the old woman looked at the papers on her desk. It made Mihael uncomfortable, and he squirmed a little in his seat. They sat in silence for a little while, which was far too long for the five-year-old’s attention span and comfort.

Finally, the man spoke, though he kept his eyes on Mihael. His words were strange, unrecognizable. Mihael recognized the sound from television as a foreign language.

The man seemed to realize that Mihael didn’t understand what he had said. “Pardon me,” he said in German, and the boy understood him despite his thick accent. “You speak German, correct?”

Mihael nodded a little. “You’re a Brit,” he stated plainly, after a pause.

The man chuckled slightly. “You’re a bright lad.”

That was what the adults always said when Mihael said something that the orphanage owner would scold him for. Mihael glanced around quickly, imagining that she might pop up out of nowhere to punish him. The room was still empty, save for him and the man.

“My name is Roger Ruvie,” the man introduced himself with a slight smile. “You may call me Roger, if you like.”

“I’m Mihael,” the boy shot back. “Mihael Keehl. You better pronounce it right.”

Roger stifled another chuckle. Mihael didn’t understand what he kept laughing at.

“Tell me, Mihael,” he began after his face was serious again, “do you like living here?”

Mihael looked down at the table, scratching the wooden surface with his finger. “No,” he admitted quietly.

“Do you like learning new things?”

Mihael didn’t see what this had to do with anything, but he supposed he should answer the question anyway. “If it’s interesting,” he said truthfully.

Roger looked pleased. After another brief silence, he folded his fingers together and rested his chin on his hands, looking very seriously down at Mihael.

“Now, I have one more question for you, Mihael, and I want you to think about it very hard. It is important that you answer it with complete and total honesty.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Could you leave this place, and the people here, and never come back again? Would you be sad if you could never see or talk to anybody you know ever again?”

Mihael looked him in the eyes and answered clearly and honestly. “No.”

Roger leaned back, smiling slightly. “I believe we are done here,” he said, standing up. “Go gather your things. We will be leaving as soon as I have talked to your caretaker about a few important matters.”

Mihael sat glued to his seat in awe as he watched Roger walk out of the room. When he finally realized what had just happened, he leapt up out of his seat and ran after him, yelling, “Wait, you mean it?” By this time, however, the door to the old woman’s office was shut and Roger was out of sight.

Mihael sprinted wildly up to his room and threw his things together, disregarding the blank stares of his roommates. “Bye forever!” he shouted over his shoulder as he lugged his heavy bag out of the room and down the stairs.

It took Roger long- too long- to leave the woman’s office. When he did, he looked tired and upset, and Mihael worried that he wasn’t going to leave after all. When Roger saw him, however, he smiled.

“Let me get that for you,” he said, taking the bag from Mihael’s small arms. “Come now, we have a train to catch,” he told the boy as he led him out the door.

~~~

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seben, eight, nine, ten,” Mihael rattled off proudly.

“No, seven. With a v. Se-Ven,” Roger corrected him patiently.

“Se-Ven,” Mihael repeated carefully. “Seven.”

“Yes, very good,” he congratulated the small boy. He glanced at the screen showing the train map, then back at Mihael. “I think you’ve learned enough English for today,” he informed him in German. “You’ll learn more when we get there. Right now, we need to give you a new name.”

“What’s wrong with mine?” Mihael shot defensively.

“You can’t use that name anymore. It’s very important that you never tell anybody that name.”

“Why?”

Roger sighed. “In the place we are going, it is a secret where you came from. You can’t tell people anything about the orphanage you came from, or even about Switzerland. The other children know this, so they won’t ask you questions about that. The most important thing, though, is that nobody knows your real name. You must keep the name Mihael Keehl a secret, okay?”

“I’ll keep it a secret,” Mihael agreed. If Roger said it was this important, then it had to be.

Roger smiled. “Alright, then. You are free to choose whatever you want for your new name.”

Mihael thought about it for a moment, staring blankly out the train window. He noticed some of the walls alongside the train track were covered with swirls and squiggles of colorful paint. He remembered that he had once seen a guy making marks like that on a brick wall. Mihael had always wanted one of those magical cans with the button on top that made a wooshing noise when it was pressed and could draw on the outside of buildings. He clearly remembered what the guy had written in big black letters.

“M-E-L-L-O,” he declared to Roger. “Mello.”

“Are you sure?” Roger asked him.

“My- name- is- Mello,” the boy stated in thickly accented English.

Roger chuckled. “Very well then.” He pulled some papers out of the briefcase he had with him and scribbled something down on the lines.

The train slowed and finally pulled to a stop as they pulled into a station.

“Here we are, Mello,” Roger told him, grabbing the small boys bag and taking his hand. “Welcome to Winchester.”

As they stepped off the train, Mello smiled.