The brown bag in Mello's lap crinkled as his grip tightened on its folded edge. He hadn't been hungry to begin with, but now, all trace of appetite had vanished into a tight, queasy feeling that might have turned into panic if his usual defenses hadn't stepped in.

No. Fuck no. There was a rational explanation for this, and someone was fucking with him. Near? Artemis? Perhaps even L, in some sort of test. Maybe Landel himself. It didn't matter. What mattered was that this was a falsehood designed to lure him into self-doubt, and Mello was far, far too smart to fall for that. He was furious that someone would even attempt it

He gritted his teeth. "This was in Japan, right? What year? Do you remember the killer's real name? What he looked like? Any of the other characters?" The friendliness had left his voice, but his tone wasn't threatening. Eavesdroppers familiar with Mello's moods would have noticed a sharp line of fear through his determination, but to everyone else, he sounded intently focused.