The Last Puzzle Piece
Mello had left the SPK headquarters on a suicide mission. Near didn't stop him.
Time passed. Were they minutes? Hours? He didn't know. He had been running his fingers over the edges of his robots, vaguely curling a strand of his hair around his index finger before he heard the tapping of Linda's heels down the hallway–she told him about the news report airing on channel four–. And he knew he was dead.
Head working on the possibilities why Mello's plan had failed, he took the files Linda had handed him. His senses were over-bearing. He could feel the friction between his feet and the floor below him as he took the doorknob of his room, case files under his arm. It took him a minute to recognize the room he had founded himself in. Single bed, no window. He felt his hand fall to his sides, hesitant to leave the coolness of the knob before he walked in and pushed the door with the heel of his foot.
He pressed himself against the door and waited. Overwhelmed, he felt every detail of the door against his shirt, and he found himself on the floor.
"Mello did all those things to help me in the Kira case. That means I am the reason why he's–they're–dead." the thought echoed the back of his mind. He stared at his own feet and placed the case files beside him. He finally noticed the mirror sitting in front of him when he dared looking up. He stared back, his face twisted in mocking calm.
Dead.
He curled up on himself, knees bent over his small frame, hands turning into fists at the base of his knees. He felt numb.
"I am sorry." he thought to no one in particular, staring at his own reflection. The boy looked broken, hurt–like a child facing their worst fears–, pitiful.
Short inhales of breath unwillingly escaped his chest. He didn't recognize himself in the mirror.
Sorry. Pitiful.
"I am sorry. Truly sorry."
A dull ache filled his chest, his breaths turned jagged and short within seconds. He felt his chest tightening, his hands tugged at the fabric of his pants as he shook from head to toe. With careless movements and unsteady fingers he tried to unbutton his shirt, barely managing to take the buttons through their holes; he gagged at his own resignation and took a few minutes to calm himself, running numb fingers over his knees, he tried to concentrate on the feeling of the clothes he wore against his skin, reminded himself he had to breathe when the feeling was too much for him to bear. He tried listening to the sounds around him, and he was met only by the puff of his own breathing and the noise of his clothes against the door when he moved.
He tried opening his shirt again. His fingers felt cold against his sternum and the buttons felt strange against his fingertips. He stared at his hands, concentrating in every movement before he stared at the chain around his neck, one he had kept a secret for years.
Knees wobbling against his will, he took doorknob above his head. He reached for the string around his neck as he stood up. The puzzle piece hung from a tiny hole near the edge. Near took the piece from the necklace as he ignored the death tracks of tears nagging at his skin. He was cautious when he placed his foot before the other as he headed towards his bed, before he crawled on his four with the synchronization of an infant and took a box from under the bed.
Near moved the lid out of the way, stared at the contents and ran his fingers over the corners of the incomplete puzzle.
The piece he had worn for the last year–years?–was the missing piece. It was a secret. His secret. Their secret.
He remembers watching him walk away from the corner of his eye. Fuming, hitting the base of hit feet against the rug, mumbling incoherent things under his breath before slamming the door.
He was going to leave. No one tried stopping him.
Near heard Watari sigh before him, watched him run a hand over his forehead several times before adjusting his glasses and then he joined his hands on top of the desk, Watari tried smiling at him before telling him he could go. Near nodded slowly before taking the pieces of the puzzle in front of him and placing them in the pockets of his shirt before he headed for the door.
He walked down the halls of the Orphanage feeling his pockets hitting against his tights with every step he took. He turned the corner twice. Left then right and opened the door of the room he shared with Mello and sat down near his own bed as he looked around.
He knew he wouldn't find Mello there. He'd be searching for things he'd need, he wasn't an idiot. Hot-headed and impulsive, yes. But not an idiot.
He took handful's of the puzzle pieces from his pockets and placed them on the floor beside him and as he started the puzzle he heard the soft click of over-used pieces fitting together. He doesn't know how long it took him to solve the puzzle, but pieces away to finish once again, he stopped when he heard the familiar sound of the door opening.
He knew Mello was at the door, so he looked up at him. Expressionless, Mello stared down at Near as he stopped clutching the doorknob and entered the room.
No "I hate you, Near", no slam of the door. Odd.
Near watched Mello taking careful steps around him hoping he, too, wouldn't try to stop him.
Mello could feel Near's eyes on him as he searched through the closet and drawers, shoving pieces of clothing across the room and grumbling about the fact none of his shoes were useful to him at the moment. He rummaged through the floor of the closet, hummed in approval and then placed a pair of tennis beside him before turning to look at Near. He felt himself nod before Mello slowly put them into the bottom of the small backpack he had found somewhere around the orphanage. Mello took as little as he could to survive and walked towards the door when he was finished.
They waited.
Near had forgotten about the puzzle the moment Mello had set a foot inside the room. Mello rested his forehead against the back of the door and exhaled, steadied the light luggage on his back with trembling fingers and took the doorknob.
-Are you really leaving, Mello?
Hinges squeaking, he opened the door and grunted as he stepped outside, not looking back at him. Not even for a second.
-Of course I am, you idiot. I'm not taking a part in your puzzles anymore - he said -. See you later, Near.
He was gone. Simple as that.
Near stared at the door before him and after minutes he looked down to his puzzle. He took one of the pieces and heard the click. Fitted the right place.
-If the cards were right- he fidgeted with the pieces on his hand and turned to lock them in one of the drawers Mello had left open, making his way around the clothes he had thrown on the floor-, these are for the last times I'll see you, dear Mello.
It took a while before he saw him again.
He remembers listening to the stomp of his platforms on the tile floor, remembers the smell of leather in the air.
He didn't have to turn around to know it was him. Carefully leaving the tarot cards over each other, he stared at him through the reflection in the monitors, wondering the reasons behinds his impromptu appearance in his life after years. He was able to watch the burr of the markings on his skin, Near vaguely remembers hearing about the incident on the news a few weeks ago. He knew he had survived.
-Long time no see, Nate.- There were few people that knew his name. Interested, he turned to face him, slow and calmed.
-Hello, dear Mello - his was unknown to Near -. What is your business here?
Mello stared down at the boy feet away before looking around the room, eyes stopping at every camera. He wasn't supposed to be there. He shifted his feet as he took a bite of the chocolate in his gloved hand. Near fidgeted with a strand of hair, the sound of the monitors behind him made him conscious of the situation they were in. Mello couldn't look him in the eye without feeling a streak of jealousy run up and down his spine, so he stared down at the tarot cards behind the younger boy as he swallowed. He felt every vibration against his jaw when he found his voice:
-I needed to ask you something.
-What is it, Mello?
Tapping his feet against the ground and paying a little too much if attention to the design in the tiles, he sighed. He looked back at Near and hoped he wouldn't say anything that'd make him want to deck him in the face.
-Why'd you ask me if I was gonna leave?
-You know the answer to that, dear Mello.
-... do you still–?
-Why wouldn't I?
He forced out a laugh muttering something like "unbelievable" as he ran a hand over his hair.
Near smiled back at him, stoic, nervous as he had never been. He shouldn't be here.
-Do me a favor, Near.
Near's smile faltered as he watched Mello turn his back on him. He watched him carefully fixing his zipper before digging his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Mello gave him one last look before he walked away.
-Stay alive.
Las time he saw him enter the SPK quarters, Near felt dread on the pit of his stomach. For the first time in his life he hoped nothing would go according to plan.
He knew he was gone on a suicide mission, was aware they knew his name. He knew Near–.
All of that, and he had left.
The noise of the pieces clicking together barely reached Near's ears. He had finally finished the puzzle.
He stood up and headed for the door. Picking the case files from the floor, he opened the folder and walked out the door.
Mikael.
Fin
Don't own Death Note, never will.
When I first wrote this, it had something to do with Near and his puzzle and a YouTube video. I barely remember a thing. It used to be shippy, can still be if you want, tho. No kiss this time. They are probably really out of character, I don't remember anything from DN. Ring me up if something about this bothers you in characterization.
Sincerely Yours:
C.C. Cr0ss
––Edit: 12/22/2015––