All in all, the day could have gone worse. While nothing much had been accomplished, having his presence requested at the meeting of club leaders suggested that his assumed role as a liason was being respected...that, or they were humoring him, but even if they were humoring him, it meant they considered him a force that shouldn't be trifled with.

The half-written summary of the club meeting was lying atop Mello's closed journal as he absently chewed on the end of his pen, a habit he'd nearly broken. This group of new patients was more ambitious than the last. He couldn't determine whether their intentions were innocent or malicious, but at this point, it didn't matter. They might be competition, and that was what he needed to focus on.

And B. Even the letter sent a slight flicker of uncertainty through his thoughts. B had been insane, without question, but he'd ultimately broken under the weight of his ambition to prove himself better than what others seemed to consider an impossible standard. He was a wild card in Mello's plans, unlikely to have any interest in the blond's attempts to gain control of the institute but likely to sabotage anything nearing success, if he considered Mello serious competition.

Mello took a bite of the orange-colored pie and chewed as he considered how to phrase the note and how to deal with the circumstances changing around him.