Mello x Reader ! Love Beyond Law ! [FORBIDDEN LOVE]

Sԋσɯα Dαყ

Pɾҽʅσɠυҽ

04/29/09

𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟿, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎-𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝙺𝚒𝚛𝚊, 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛. 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙶𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚆𝚎𝚎𝚔, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝙹𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝙽𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢.

𝙰 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚗d, 𝚏𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙹𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚗 𝚊 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚢 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚊𝚜 '𝚂𝚄𝙼𝚁𝙰𝙺' 𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚍, 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝙿𝙺 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚍. 𝚂𝚄𝙼𝚁𝙰𝙺, 𝚊 𝚁𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙺𝚒𝚛𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚋𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎.

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In the backstreets of Nishinari, a narrow road with shops adjacent to each other. Between the shrivels of fissures in the pavement, weeds punctured its way out between asphalt. Its yellowish green prickly seed heads swayed in the breeze.

Few Grub critters pieced away at the greenery before being snatched by the Moth. It flailed its tent-like wings. A momentary hushed tension hung in the air, reminiscent of the Grub critters, oblivious to their impended fate, continued their ceaseless task of consuming the greenery, their tiny bodies and naivety, a testament to the fragility of existence.

The still passage of time had faded away with the distant sounds of jubilant parade and celebration that filtered through the nooks and crannies of buildings. Meanwhile the sepia sunlight disappeared beyond the skyline.

There was a secluded back alleyway, a corner tucked away from the merriment. Mobsters loitered at a desolate izakaya run by a loud auntie, plump like a pear in shape. The glow of a lone streetlamp casted their silhouettes in a dim light apart as they perched on the porch, gathered around a makeshift poker table.

"This parade in the background hella loud ain't it loud eh." A lanky fella with a slight rasp to his voice muttered.

"Can't even hear myself think. Flint continued as he focused on his hand of cards.

Matt, also known as the capo's consigliere; He shrugged in response and hunched forward with his eyes intently on his deck of cards.

Before glancing towards Mello in curiosity to the his prolonged silence at the table.

"It's the birthday of Emperor Showa or something like that." Another man from the table queried back, his voice a decibel or two lower than Flint's . Then he drew a downsided Two of Hearts from the deck laid on the table.

"Is that so Sho?" Flint chuckled darkly a few times and reached for his whiskey. His long fingers cupped the top of the glass as he took a long sip.

"We can't afford to let him get to us," Mello abruptly interjected, as he folded his cards whilst he took a swift drag from a king-sized chocolate bar.

"Hm?" Matt smashed his cigarette into the ashtray with a slight raise in his eyebrows.

Mellos' heavy breath simmered to the light before letting out a brief sigh. "Near," His voice was tight with frustration. "Always trying to outsmart us."

Flint and Sho exchanged a knowing glance, recognizing the shift in Mello's demeanor. The mention of Near never failed to ignite a fire within him which drove him almost to the brink of obsession.

"It's been almost three years since L died, I wonder how much evidence that vulture could scrap up." Mello mused aloud.

"Probably not more than us." Matt responded with a chuckle in attempt to lighten the sudden intensity of the atmosphere"

"Damn straight! He thinks we're lagging behind, but that's what ticks me off. We fly under the radar, but still get the damn job done. No fancy badges or recognition from the suits, but who cares? We're out here grinding, making things happen. And you know what? Our track record speaks for itself, even if they don't wanna see it, Near will lose."

"And we're efficient at it too," Matt hummed in agreement as he flicked his lighter underneath the cigarette lying between his lips. "People shy away from the gray areas, but in the labyrinth of life, black and white rarely suffice; it's the myriad shades of gray where truth lies."

"Exactly Matt" Mello nodded, leaning back as he casually crossed his legs. "Most folks can't handle uncertainty; they crave that sense of security, you know?" He paused, contemplating, then continued, "Anyway, just got word from Kemp. Near's rounding up his evidence against Kira. He's gearing up to pitch a new alliance to the US."

"Damnit!" Flint interjected, he stood up abruptly in a sharp motion out of the wooden barstool causing the table to wobble slightly.

"I know." Mello grumbled, his response edged with frustration. He uncrossed his arms and rose from his seat, grabbing his coat from the chair. "But listen, we don't need them' fancy shits with sticks up their asses to back us up. We'll track his records ourselves and move faster. And you know what? We'll do whatever it takes to get our hands on that notebook."

"Shut up brats, I'm tryna watch TV back here and you all making a fuss, can't even hear my own damn show. Just drink up and clear out already." The eccentric auntie, long past her prime and dubbed "Himari the Hen" by the Nishinari homeless elders, was propped against the counter, utterly captivated by Takuya Kimura's latest appearance on SMAPXSMAP. She couldn't help but swoon over his dreamy presence on screen.

"Shayt up, ya bratz! I'm tryin' to watch TV here, and ya all... making a fuss~ ooh, Takuya Kimura is so dreamy," Sho jeered, unable to resist a display of exaggerated sarcasm. He waved his hands theatrically in front of himself, intertwining his fingers in a mock love serenade and playful performance.

Flint crossed his arms, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Man, don't even try abou'pulling that zesty shit again," he joked, his gaze briefly averting before locking onto Sho's once more. With a neutral expression, he turned away again.

"Ey, you don't wanna tick off 'the Hen' back there," Matt teased, giving Mello a playful nudge. Sho couldn't help but let out a snort.

"That was corny," Mello remarked, locking eyes with the group, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. He blew out a breath, shaking his head. That woman needed a reality check, but at least the location was ideal, Mello thought to himself.