Disclaimer - I don't own Death Note. But I bet you guessed that already. The title of this came from my philosophy professor as he told a mumbling student to enunciate. "Don't marblemouth it," he said. And thus this story was born.
MARBLEMOUTH
"I spy a yo-yo, a red roller skate, a mouse, and the numbers one through eight;
A soccer ball, a piece of string, a house, and the stolen diamond ring."
Near's voice is cotton-soft, and his words are clean and precise. He does not speak too often, but when he does, he speaks in black on white, twelve point font, Times New Roman, double spaced. He likes the way he talks. He likes the way that words sound on his tongue. He puts sentences together the way he puts tinker toys together; methodically, creatively, and simply. Afterwards, he thinks back on what he has said. He arranges all the words he has not yet said in his head, in spiraling dominoes. When he speaks them, the dominoes fall, one after another, and all of them are leading him to something.
Near plays himself at Othello today. He would have gone back to his dominoes, but the dominoes are either black with white spots, or white with black spots, and today Near craves constancy. The double-sided plastic pieces make a satisfying sound halfway between a muffled tap and a quiet thump when he turns them over on the padded board. He turns one over, and another, and another. White, white, white. White pieces all over the navy blue board. Near wins.
It has lately become something of a fad among anti-Kira rebels in New York City to call the Japanese-pronounced 'Kira' by the word it originated from: Killer. First Lidner began to say it, then Rester, and finally Gevanni. Near says it to himself in his head. Killer. One more domino. Everyone who has over the years become desensitized to the word 'Kira' gets a small jolt when they hear it, which is everyone.
Near muses. Kira; Killer. Killer has two L's. The second L is Kira.
"L," Near says. L is the sound that happens when he starts with a soft 'e' sound, then places his tongue on the rim of his top row of teeth. L is a horizontal and a vertical line in black on white, glaring too brightly at him from a wall of computer screens in the SPK headquarters.
"Yes, N," the second L in Killer answers, in his scrambled circuitry voice. N is the sound that happens when he starts with that same soft 'e' sound, then places his tongue on his gums behind his top row of teeth.
Killer's voice is always urgent; Killer's voice is always insisting something. Killer is dragging Near towards him with a string of words like a fishing line, using himself as a lure. Near can feel the line strain and hear the winding click of the words as Killer reels him in.
He turns all the Othello pieces over so that the black side faces up, and he puts them all back in the box one at a time. Now he is bored with black and white. Killer sees things in black and white, but Near is not so flawed.
He plays himself against himself against himself in Chinese checkers, and the round game pieces make a tame, miniature, almost inaudible clack whenever they are set down in their spaces. But five minutes into the game, three colors are all mixed up on the board. They don't look well together, and Near doesn't like that, either. He does not put it away, but he closes the cardboard lid over it so he doesn't have to look at it anymore, and the nice cardboard sound is a little comforting, though there is no rational reason it should be.
Near is not a rationalist. He is rational, but he is not a rationalist. He is an empiricist to his core. He always finds it preferable to perceive something rather than conceive it. What is a concept compared to solid proof? Nothing. He prefers the evidence of his senses over insubstantial ideas. Words to hear and voices to hear them in, colors to see, dominoes, tinker toys, puzzle pieces. He likes empiricism and he likes patterns; sets of concepts so separate from other concepts that they become obvious, and real, and perceivable.
Near does not like it that he has never seen Yagami Light in person nor heard his real voice. As of now, Killer has no real sound and no real color. He also does not like that he has not seen or heard from Mello in four years, and when Near can't see or hear someone, they become ideas, conceptions; and conceptions are less than real.
He likes that the headquarters of the SPK are bright and colorless. He knows that it makes his team feel edgy and confined, but it helps him. It helps him to see the real colors that appear when they speak; their pastel consonants and primary colored vowels, warmly toned adjectives and coolly hued verbs. When S's are too loud, they slide into neon, and silent letters appear in the shades of a nearly-disappeared rainbow, invisible unless he knows they are there.
Near speaks, usually, in black on white, twelve point font, Times New Roman, double spaced. He feels that this makes him easier to understand. There are no distractions in black and white; twelve point font ensures that his words are not too big, but not too small, Times New Roman is neat and uncomplicated, and double spacing means absolute clarity; he can't have his lines running together. He speaks this way, and it serves him excellently.
But then Mello arrives. Arrives, and brings with him the scents of the City, and Outside, and Dangerous People, and public transportation. He brings Lidner as a hostage, but that isn't what's important… what's important is that he is there, a furious and volatile presence, and that he speaks, and Near hears his voice. What's important is that he comes with so much information. So many tangible, useable ideas – improbable, incredible ones, but true nonetheless, or Mello would never have bothered with them. Near does not waste time with disbelief or amazement, and there will always be time later to adjust his views as to what is Real and what is Not. Those views have been turned practically upside-down, but they are just as functional that way as they have always been.
He doesn't turn around to meet Mello face to face, but he doesn't have to. It is enough to know he is there. More than enough, just now, with Mello pointing a gun to the back of his head. But Mello will leave shortly, Near knows. Mello does not belong in the constricting grey and silver glow of the SPK headquarters anymore than Near would belong in the midst of swarming people on city streets, or in a bar, or in a tiny, molding apartment where the water runs rusty-brown instead of clear.
They speak to one another. Near murmurs, and Mello yells. Near had forgotten how much he dislikes Mello. It has a strange effect on his words. They are no longer dominoes, but marbles, and they change color before his eyes.
Near's voice is cotton-soft, but his words are slippery and reflective. They tumble from his mouth too quickly and clatter to the floor too loudly, and they roll away from him in too many directions to follow, stopping along the edges of the walls and collecting in corners, and resting at the toes of people's shoes. Mello kicks them out of his way as he leaves; even steps on some, smashing them.
Mello had come very close to shooting him. The click, click, click, click, click of a trigger almost pulled is sharp in his ears. It reminds him too much of the K sound in Kira, and in Killer, and in Yagami Light's own words as inch by inch he pulls a trigger of his own, also aimed at Near.
And then - Mello is dead. Killed by Kira, or some extension thereof. It took a heart attack, a violent crash, and an inferno to kill Mello at last, but All Things Lead to Kira no matter which way Near thinks of it. Now Mello will never be anything more to Near than a conception of his memory, but he can live with that. His memory, though not completely infallible, is very reliable, and it will have to do in Mello's stead.
He arranges the dominoes in his mind in the most brilliant, intricate, unstable pattern he has ever created. It is his pride and his terror, and with every breath he takes and every sweep of the fan in the Yellow Box warehouse, they threaten to collapse too early. But they don't… and when Near finally flicks the first domino over to triumph against Kira's madness –
It is instead marbles that come spilling from his mouth, and for Near the world overflows with color as all his words and thoughts turn to marbles, and Kira is swept away beneath them.