Recollection

(N.O.C)

(Note) This is the first Fan Fiction I have ever posted online. I was working on a different Death Note S to submit, but several factors contributed to me wanting to test the waters with this first... This is mostly conversation between Linda and Bret, past orphans at Wammy's House, discussing Linda's fairly current encounter with Near and their memories of Near, Mello and a little about Matt.

"I saw him." Linda said to Bret. At one time they both been at Wammy's Orphanage. Now they were both successful adults, at the top of the world. Linda a famous artist and Bret a millionaire who made his way up from ship design to owning a cruise line. He always did like building ships in bottles. Linda had painted a ship in a bottle just for him and when he had come to see it, at her main gallery they struck up a conversation and were now friendly contacts. It was strange how far everyone from the orphanage could drift. With the verity of careers, Wammy's Children ended up all over the world and beyond. It was easy to get too involved in your success and forget the people you grew up with. Then again, some of the children hadn't had such good memories and didn't look back. For those who were still vaguely in contract, Linda had to wonder if that was what real siblings were like. Seeing each other on holidays.

Everyone from the orphanage had eventually become aware of Mello's Death and Near's victory as the permanent number one. Linda had never disliked Near, not like many of the children who found him anti-social. She saw a deep meaning in everyone and wanted to express that, perhaps that is what made her an artist.

"When you went to the orphanage?" Bret asked. They were in a conference room, in a ritzy hotel, that was even gaudy for Linda's taste in details. He had a meeting earlier and the room was free for the rest of the night. It wasn't as if someone had the gal to come in and kick out Bret Vals, the millionaire

Linda had a champagne on the rich wood conference table before her, while Bret was enjoying scotch on the rocks. Most of the time Linda wasn't one for alcohol, but the mood in this place seemed to require it as a form of educate.

"Yes," She said after a long pause staring out the window-wall. It was a beautiful view and she half wished the chandler light was off so she could see the outside courtyard better, "If you can recall, a few months ago, Roger offered to sponsor my largest art show to date. I had already mentioned that the money for the art sold would go to benefit underprivileged schools and I've been dreaming of opening an orphanage myself. I was so excited to hear Wammy's House would pay for the show, so more money could go to charity. Before the show started I decided it was time to go thank Roger in person, you know, before I lost track of him again. I knew Roger had returned to Wammy's for a while. But I-I didn't think he would be there too."

Bret laughed a little. She turned her calm gaze to the millionaire. "Do you remember Linda, when he first showed up... God, you really cared about the little shit. You were always so caring though. So motherly, buttoning his shirt correctly for him and the whole deal. He couldn't even dress himself." Bret shook his head.

"I wasn't that bad Bret. Maybe at first but..." She said getting a whimsical look in her eyes, "I pitied him. I really did. To come so fresh from something like that..." She shook her head.

Bret took a sip of his scotch. "Now-now Linda, I came from the same orphanage. Sure it was kind of underprivileged, but..."

"I knew the orphanage he first went to was a rough place, but that isn't what I meant." Linda almost felt vexed. "Near spent a long time recovering from the accident in the hospital. Afterwards he didn't stay at that orphanage for more than a month before Wammy's saw his GPA. I still can't believe it. At ten years old..."

Bret sat up straight as if to stretch, it was hard to tell if that was what he was doing. "Wait, you remember what that orphanage did to newbies? A month was long enough, when he healed up he was thrown into the ring like everyone else. Still, everyone thought he was stuck up." He smiled, "I think that is what really pissed people off. I guess Mello was the only one to hang onto that gang mentality after we were out of there." Bret mentioned.

"Bullying is what they called it, 'Boys will be boys'." Linda snickered with disdain.

Bret waved a hand as if to calm her down, at least turn her glare away from him. Linda could give a vicious glare that made anyone sweat, "Did you talk to Near?"

She turned towards the window with the champagne in her hand. "A little. Like I mentioned, I didn't know he would be there." She smiled on verge of a chuckle. "I stood outside admiring the building and thinking of how many times I had enjoyed sketching various angles of it as a child. It was a wonderful moment, returning to Wammy's. My memories there are ... all good ones- in comparison to where I was before- if I had to say. Yes, childhood has it's ups and downs, but I was allowed to do the one thing I really wanted to."

Bret gesture for he to continue, "You ventured inside at some point?"

"Ah, yes, of course, I'm getting side tracked. You would think these days I should have the time to admire the view, but I forget about it now?" She said waving a hand, as if to say 'moving on'. "I went inside and had a whole reminisce scene. Even the children there now didn't distract me from my reminiscing. I know you don't want to hear about that. I found Roger and talked a little with him and thanked him for sponsoring my show. I was afraid I flattered him too much, but he knew I was sincerely grateful. When I was leaving I caught a glimpse of white and thought I had seen a curtain." She chuckled, "You remember what they did with Mello?" She asked in a serious, sorrowed tone.

"I know there's a grave for him, but they cremated him didn't they?" Bret took a drink of his scotch. "He was already pretty well charred up when they finally identified him. God, Linda, I wish I could've had a look at that Kira bastard. I really wanted to piss on that shit's dead body."

"You think Kira's died?" Linda wondered.

"Yes, but let's not argue our standpoints. I know you have a whole philosophy about it. The last thing I'm interested in right now is philosophy after dealing out shitty ethics to keep my boats afloat."

Linda grinned. "I'll refrain from talking philosophy if you refrain from expressing your idea of business ethics." She returned to the topic. "Wammy's House had a Shrine room, you remember that?"

"You mean that study? It was half made up to look like a delicate sitting room. Whenever Wammy could, he would go in there and view that huge portrait of his late wife. She was like a goddess or something. Her ashes were there?"

Linda nodded, "Naturally they put Wammy's ashes with hers. You really should go see it, Bret. It's pretty well a memorial for the Wammys, L, Mello and the other children who were raised at Wammy's and lost." She paused as she thought back to it, "I felt like paying my respects and I saw Near take Mello's urn and I was snickering at him as he left with it. I followed him out the back gate of the orphanage. He didn't say anything to me. He started to hum to himself."

Bret laughed, "Seriously? The little creep. I didn't think he could get any ruder or queerer. What was he humming?"

"Don't say that, Bret, he was in thought and maybe grieving... I can't recall what he was humming. It was slow and mellow- I don't know what the tune was though." She told. She didn't think she would get emotional remembering it, but she felt choked up suddenly. "I completely forgot about it until Near went there. I mean out the back gate, that path and open area. It was beautiful on that back trail with all the trees and untamed weeds."

"I remember that. It was a fun place to play around. Mello would bully us for a while then he would go off on his own."

"He never picked on you." Linda corrected.

"Yes he did, though mostly not, only on the account of my girth." Bret laughed and patted his belly. "Ah Mello, we hated him like a brother."

"Is that how it was?" Linda took a sip of her champagne.

Bret watched her, "What did Near do with those ashes?"

She smiled suddenly, "He still looks so childish, cute even..." She paused, "Mello used to go to the end of the path where there was some abandoned stable. He would hang out there with Matt, you remember?"

"His sense of freedom, I guess. Matt though... I really miss him." Bret noted. "He was smart and it was like he could do anything if he wanted to. Unlike Mello and Near he was on a level close enough with the rest of us and gave us some hope, that kid..."

"I know..." They both were silent for a moment as if a tribute to the Matt they grew up with.

Bret let out a gruff sounding sigh that seemed to cue the end of the silence. "I remember the place. It was like Mello's idea of a base and when you were on his good side you could be one of his gang. Despite the fact he was a jerk, we all secretly wanted to be in his inner circle. He was intelligent, tough, even charismatic when he wanted to be."

"I suppose he was, in a tough-kid sort of way." Linda agreed. "Well, Near wandered all the way up to the stable doors and spread the ashes. Near had a tendency of occasionally taking liberties he shouldn't have. When I saw him doing that I felt like he was taking one of those liberties. I got angry at him, but I hadn't stopped him either. I guess it was as much my fault..."

"Did he say anything?"

She nodded, "He responded to me, I think he did. He didn't actually face me. He said he had been thinking about it for a long time. He knew Mello wouldn't be happy at Wammy's House. He was never number one there and Near didn't know where else Mello had felt free."

"That's awfully sentimental for Near." Bret snickered, finishing off his scotch.

"It wasn't his exact words, but that's what he meant."

Bret smirked, "What were the exact words?"

"I said to him, 'It's a disgrace to throw someone's ashes into the wind secretly.' He said, 'It's a disgrace to secretly keep someone's ashes where they aren't meant to be.' Then he told me he had been thinking about it for a long time. He didn't say more than that. I picked up on the implications." Her eyes began to water as she looked into the champagne glass.

"What is it?" Bret asked, scooting closer.

"A little while after the Kira case I visited Mello's grave site. You know... to pay my respects and offer up some flowers I didn't think he would like, but he would know they were from me." She had to pause, "I saw Near there, sitting before Mello's grave. I thought Near would have visited Mello's grave much earlier and moved on. Even though Near was stoic when I came upon him, his eyes were red rimmed and tired. He said he'd been there for a few days, then got up and left, of course."

"Hu?" Bret didn't seem that interested. "Near's an imp. What happened at the stable, you leave?"

"No, not right away. Near was quiet and I felt so ... terrible for him. Like he had, once again, experienced a loss and didn't know how to feel." She grinned, "When he walked towards me I decided to give him a hug. As stoic as he was, he looked like he needed it."

Bret laughed, "I can only imagine how that turned out."

"I thought he would stand there unmoving or maybe even push me away. He did stand there for a little while, but..."

"But?"

"He hugged me back... after a few minutes."

Bret laughed again, "Few minutes hu? That's funny, then what?"

"Oh, you know how Near is..." She said.

Linda let go after Near hugged her back. He stepped back and began to twirl his hair. "I can't remember... the last time someone hugged me." He told her, saying it before he looked at her with an imitation of a stone gaze. "It's been years." For once she was the stoic, quiet one, but more so from being content. Near looked down at his feet and said, as if taking tally, "No one hugged me after L died. Not when I left Wammy's, not when I visited L's grave, not when the Kira case was finally over..." He paused, his census done and on a more sentimental sounding tone. "I didn't think I needed something like that." He strolled on by with the empty urn in one hand.

"The silent type?" Bret wondered.

"Hmm, I suppose."

"And?"

Linda slid the champaign glass away from her. "Nothing, we went back. He put the urn back empty. Roger was waiting..."

Bret laughed, "The little shit left it there empty hu?"

Linda had think about it. "I ... guess..." Had he? "Wait a minute. I think I did see him drop something in there."

Bret was getting bored with this conversation, "Really? Hmm... Well, are you still seeing that Jim guy?"

She stood, ignoring his question and looking out the window. "I wonder... what it was..."