Ok, no flames if my OC turns out to be a Mary sue, because if she does I'll just get rid of this. I really hate OCs, and to tell the truth, I'm not too fond of Near either. The ENTIRE reason I wrote this was I bet someone I could after seeing Near's picture at sixteen in the thirteenth book of Death Note. So, here we go!

Disclaimer:the OC is all minez, but the rest is from Death Note and does not belong to me

Web stood outside the door, tapping her foot impatiently. Where is he? the girl thought in annoyance, grinding her teeth. She glanced around the long, varnished hallway, its burgundy wallpaper starting to peel. Electrically lit sconces hung every few feet on the walls, giving off a warm (if somewhat dim) light. Web's eyes followed the rows of doors that lined both sides of the hallway, continuing on and on, and she squinted to see the door at the very end that led into Roger's office.

Finally the door she had been standing in front of opened, and a white-haired head popped out. Near looked at her sleepily, his morning hair curling around his head in a most adorable fashion. Web chewed her lip while thinking this, but then quickly dismissed the thought with a flourish, turning to more important matters.

"Near, finally you're up. Do know how long I have to wait? Every single morning?" Near just shook his head and emerged from his room completely, stepping out into the hallway barefoot. Fixing his moody brown eyes on her-which looked even moodier in the dim lighting-he gave a slight shrug. Web just frowned and sized him up. Near's snowy tresses were very close to matching his porcelain skin, and his mouth was set in an unimpressed line, dangerously verging on a frown. He looks like such a child, Web thought, looking up at him wearily, and yet he's at least four inches taller than me. The white drawstring pajamas he always wore were ridiculously tight on him, much too small for a tall boy of sixteen. Of course she knew why he wore them, they had been a gift from L., and Near had refused to even wash them after his idol's death. L. wasn't even an idol, per say, he was like his father, his only precious thing. I used to be jealous of him. Thinking this, Web felt a pang of unsurpassable guilt. When she said "him", she was referring to both of them; Near for having someone to truly care for, and L. for having Nears unrequited love.

Mentally bashing herself for letting her thoughts involuntarily wander, the orphan girl shook her head disapprovingly.

"Near, you are in dire need of new clothing." Near sniffed condescendingly.

"No." Web narrowed her eyes.

"Yes." Near glared at her, voice lowering deliberately.

"No." Web gave him a hard stare. She had known him forever, ever since she had been dropped of at the Wammy House like extra baggage after her parents' death.

She had been sitting on a bench outside, nibbling on her pinky-finger and watching the other kids play. Two children were tossing a ball back and forth, back and forth, and she watched the continuous motion sadly. As the tears welled up the moving ball became a blurred red arc in the air, and she felt a suffocating lump form in her throat. It was large and she was afraid she might choke on it. Before the tears could flow over though, something small and hard hit her in the side of the head. Web's tears cleared instantly as she picked up the object and held it in her hand, looking at it skeptically.

It was a toy, a tiny wooden one, and it had a small face painted on it. Someone had worked very hard to put in all the little details, and it was very delicate-looking.

"Hey you!" a loud voice yelled from her right, jerking her from her brief fascination with the figure. Web turned to see two boys, at least two or three years older than herself. One was blond and wore a shiny leather vest, and the other had red hair, goggles, and a striped shirt on. The blond walked up to her and held out his hand. "Give it." She held the toy close and stuck her tongue out.

"No." she refused, for she had spotted a small, white-haired boy dressed in white pajamas, surrounded by toys much like the one she held in her hand.

"Don't be cocky. Give it or I'll-" before the blond boy could even finish his sentence she balled her fist and knocked him in the chin, standing up on the bench. He clutched his jaw in shock and goggle boy came over to help him.

"You'll what?" she breathed condescendingly, and jumped down from the bench, starting for the boy with the white hair. Web came to a halt in front of him, his steady brown eyes catching the light. Web's heart gave a stubborn jump, but she ignored it. Cautiously she held out the toy.

"This yours? Here, I got it back." For some strange reason she felt as if she was making him look like a wimp. I mean, a girl getting a toy back for a guy can be kind of embarrassing. But he didn't look up at her, he just twirled some of his hair around his finger and stared at his toys, his eyes looking as if they might be searching for something in the armies of tiny tin robots, impossibly tall towers of dice, and things that looked like Rubik's cubes but were in impossible, irregular shapes.

Web stood there silently, watching as he began to rearrange his rubber finger puppets that he had gathered in front of him. Yes, she just stood there, staring as he mixed up the small toys, moving them around with his fingertips, never once looking up.

She sat down cross legged in front of him, toying anxiously with the wooden figurine in her hands. "You've got a lot of them huh?" Web said quietly, touching one of the figures softly with her pointer finger. She saw him glance at her finger quickly, and this made her even more vexed, for at first she had thought perhaps he was blind and deaf, like the American named Helen Keller, but knowing that he could see her and chose to ignore her seriously began to get on her nerves. I bet you can hear me too. She thought, beginning to gnaw at her lip. "You know," she said, her voice making her irritation with him obvious, "I bet that even if I knocked over one of your dice towers you still would completely ignore me."

At this (much to Web's surprise) the boy looked up at her, his face unreadable. "I'm right though, aren't I?" she said, her voice almost at a whisper. He remained silent but continued to stare at her, and her face began to itch. But she held his gaze, daring him to look away. She knew she wouldn't be the one to do so, she had no reason. She was not afraid of him, and she was not embarrassed to stare right back at him, challenging him to make a move. "Here, you can have it back." Web said, not breaking his gaze as she began to set it down.

"Keep it." At first she had thought she'd imagined him speaking. He had a really smooth voice that sounded surprisingly mature coming out of him. She swallowed and remained composed, still not looking away.

"I don't need it." To her great triumph the boy finally looked back down and he went back into silence, rearranging the finger puppets once more. She sat there for a few more minutes, seething, and then the girl stood up, brushed herself off, and shoved the small figurine into her pocket. Web, after slight hesitation leaned over and, with one swift motion, flicked the tallest dice tower that was nearly as tall as she was. She watched the tiny spotted cubes roll around after the tower fell, and she felt a smug satisfaction build inside her, although she refused to show it. Web turned one more time as she stormed away to give the strange boy one more look and was shocked to find a miniscule, hardly decipherable thing on his face that very, very faintly resembled a small, amused smile.

After this strange encounter they ran into each other again and again, and every time quite a few snide remarks were exchanged. Somehow, without either of them knowing, they unconsciously became friends. They were a strange pair, always fighting and ruining each other's stuff just to get back at one another, you would think they were enemies, and sure as hell they thought so too. But somehow it didn't turn out that way, and Web's pain over the loss of her parents, which every orphan had, slowly began to scab over.

Web pulled herself back to the present, and found herself reaching inside her pocket to feel the toy, something she thought of as a good luck charm. She had meant to put it on a keychain, but she had just never found the time. Without giving it another thought she turned once again to the task at hand.

"We are buying you new clothes!" Web announced insistently, bringing the pointless argument to a close. They could fight for hours, neither one ever truly winning, and she would have to work quickly to drag him out so he would have no chance to argue with her any longer.

Web took ahold of his sleeve and began to pull him along to the door that led outside.

5 minutes later…

The sunshine

sunshine blinded her eyes as she stepped outside, and it took a moment to adjust to the brightness. Near shielded his face from the burning rays and glared at her, he was not at all happy that she was dragging him with.

"Why are we going grocery shopping in the first place?" he kept his voice at a patient, monotonous level, afraid Web might abuse him if he said something mean. He'd seen what she'd done to kids who got in her way, and it wasn't pretty. Roger had been seriously considering sending her away, but he chose not too because of her rank. She ranked second now that Matt and Mello had passed away, and she could not be turned away from the orphanage, it was made for people like her. It was made by people like her. But she sure didn't act like second, in Roger's eyes, Web was just a brat that he needed to stick somewhere where she could be a help to the world. Where? He had no idea.

"No idea, but why question Roger? Everyone knows he's a quack." Near raised an eyebrow.

"In a bad mood today are we?"

"It's gonna get worse if you keep chewing on my nerves." Near sighed, he liked chewing on her nerves. Actually, he did it all the time.

"You're so predictable Web, your nothing to solve. And you think so highly of yourself too, I'd hate to knock you off your pedestal." Web chomped onto his comment like fish chomp onto bait, but she turned it around for the better.

"Says the egotistical albino who calls himself L." she sighed, cracking her neck to accent her words. "And you even think you've surpassed him." she let out a mocking laugh, letting it out so it stung, "Even Mello wasn't that bad."

It took all Near had in him to keep from gritting his teeth. In his task force, no one would dare talk to him this way. No one in the orphanage either. Not Roger, not anyone. And yet here he was with some prideful jerk who called herself a girl. He would have struck her, but he knew better. He wasn't that kind of person. Silence, it seemed, was what annoyed Web the most, especially from him. Although, that's not to say she was loud or obnoxious, actually she was quite quiet. There were days when she would hardly breathe a word, just flip through her numerous books of fairytales and play bloody games on her laptop. That was Web's thing, fairytales; she had the most ridiculous collection you'd ever see, and she had quite a few bestsellers published, but they were credited to anonymous. Near would never tell her, but he kept one of her story books somewhere in his room (he couldn't exactly remember where) for absolutely no reason at all. The worst thing about releasing those books for Web, though, was that she never got any praise for them. And he knew she wanted it, she was selfish like that. And yet she was selfless as well, because she never mentioned how much she wanted someone to tell her "Good job, this book is amazing." And that's what drove Near really crazy. Why couldn't she just be a brat and be done with it? And that's why he hated her.

L. would have hated her too, he was sure, and he found himself staring at her as they walked, wondering what L. really might've thought. She was horrid and loathsome and difficult, but she was also really, really quiet, and Near wished she'd just spew all her annoyingness out, instead of keeping it tucked away like some mental person and keep tap, tap, tapping away at her computer for hours on end and poring over her books at night. He knew where she hid the eye drops that cleared the redness from her eyes each morning, and he inferred she had been using them even before he had seen a glimpse of them one morning while crashing with her in her room. She wasn't a slob either, which annoyed him as well. She was quite tidy, except for her books and computer games. In one corner, just one corner of her room chaos ensued, where uneven stacks of games and books dominated, and your eyes were always drawn to the blind spot of gray. Gray? Yes, gray. Whenever she got a new game she painted the box gray, the same went with books, only it was their covers that were painted. She said the colors irritated her. When she told Near this poked one of his smaller robots so it fell over. Everything was irritating for her, everything was two-sided. She was selfish and selfless. She was tidy but messy. She was loud but then, she hardly spoke. And then you realized she was actually never loud at all, you just felt like she was because she was always glaring, and it wasn't angst from being an orphan or anything else, she was just like that. Near hated it. He was sure L. would've hated it too.

What will happen on the shopping trip? Do you care? Let's hope so. Please, review, cookies for all that actually read this. But, like I said, it is now time to review. Please?