Author's Note: Hum, it seems like fanfiction writers always portray L and Near's relationship as either yaoi, hating, or they just plain ignore it. I always thought the two super-geniuses had more of a father/son thing going on… So yeah. That's where this story's idea comes from. It was great fun to write from Near's arrogant point of view, by the way.
Meetings
At three years old, Nate River had already tired of the Rubik's Cube. At five, he was able to decipher any cryptogram in less than one minute. And when his parents had died in a train collision, the child had spent the entire funeral piecing jigsaw puzzles together on the church floor.
In short, Nate was a prodigy at puzzle-solving.
While his grandparents had offered to take the child in, it was obvious that Nate would never be staying with them. The boy was a genius. By the time that his relatives were discussing custody of the newly-orphaned child, eyes had already been placed on him. Nate was going to the mysterious Wammy's House, orphanage and school for extremely gifted children.
But it was five months before Nate, now christened "Near," understood what the real purpose of the establishment was, or at least before he cared.
While he was, as usual, placing blank puzzle pieces into place, he overheard two children talking excitedly on their way outside. One, a red-haired child who always seemed to have some sort of electronic device in hand, was saying, "And I heard he's going to come in less than a month! Some of the older kids have seen him already, but only the really smart ones. Even if I don't make it, Mello, you're really smart. Tell me what he's like, all right?"
The other, a blonde-haired boy who was always riled up about one thing or another, replied, "How dumb are you, Matt? I'm surprised you even got in here. No one who sees L can say what he looks like, or even acts like. Not to anyone. He's famous worldwide. If everyone knew everything about him, he'd be dead!"
"What?! You're saying you don't trust me?!"
"I'm saying you're an idiot who would blab every little detail about L to the world."
Near frowned, placing one last piece into its rightful spot. He had heard of L before, mostly from conversations around the orphanage, but didn't know much about him except that he was a world-renowned detective. These were children, after all—not children like himself, but normal children who felt and thought like everyone else—and so it could be that they were only exaggerating L's importance. But then… the white-clad boy twirled a strand of his hair thoughtfully. He was sure L, genius or no genius, was nothing like him. But still… Being surrounded by fools, or at least people that seemed foolish in comparison to himself, was tiring. Meeting someone as intelligent as Near himself… that could be interesting.
And of course I will meet him, he thought, staring at the newly-completed puzzle with satisfaction. I am the best student here by far. L… he can't be that impressive, but just in case…
Mello frowned, closing the door behind him as he and his best friend made their way to the playground. "That Near is always so full of himself… he never talks to anyone else. He never plays. And he's always number one in the class! I can't stand him!"
"Yeah," replied Matt, eyes glinting as he pulled a handheld video game from his pocket. "The guy's weird. Really smart, though." He cast a glance his friend's way, to make sure he wasn't going to get punched. It seemed he wasn't, but nevertheless he added hastily, "Not as smart as you, 'course."
* * *
"Near?" The child looked up with vague interest as Roger called his name. L was here, and now someone was calling Near. Hence, he was being called to see L. Even a normal person could figure that out.
He rose awkwardly, unused to being forced out of his sitting position. The five-year-old tottered over to Roger's side, then looked up at him expectantly. This was the most emotion he had shown in a long while—one who knew Near well would be able to tell that he was overflowing with anticipation. There was no one who knew Near well, however, so as it was the other children only assumed he was vaguely interested in seeing L, the same way he was vaguely interested each time he got a new puzzle. Jealous murmurs broke out across the room as Roger led the young genius into the hall.
As they trotted past the bedrooms—Near frowned, noticing that this was a part of the building he rarely visited—Roger turned to the child and smiled in what he hoped was a friendly way. "You do know who you are going to see, right, Near?"
Near pushed back an urge to turn away and grumble about the idiots that plagued this earth. Of course he knew. Turning his lifeless eyes back up to the adult, he replied in his usual monotone, "No, I don't. Tell me."
Roger looked slightly surprised, but maintained his phony smile nonetheless. "You are going to see L." Near silently thanked the powers that be that Roger hadn't asked him if he knew who L was. Apparently not having seen the five-year-old's small eye roll, Roger continued, "But for his safety, it is best if you call him Ryuuzaki. It's the same as how I call you Near instead of your real name. That way, if someone overhears—"
"Yes, I know why we use aliases." Near gritted his teeth. Seeing an ominous-looking wooden door at the end of the hall, he hobbled forwards and reached up to touch the knob. "Is this it?"
Roger nodded, reaching over the child's head to help him ease the door open. Light flooded in to the oddly dark room, illumination a silhouette of someone within for a moment or two, then the door was shut behind Near. The puzzle-lover blinked in surprise, finding that, with its complete lack of windows, the only light in the room came from a small computer screen about five feet away from himself. After a moment his eyes adjusted, and he realized that the room was only about the size of a closet; the computer was actually placed against the back wall.
As he stared up at the hunched figure, who seemed to be using the very same chair he was sitting on as a foot rest, all of Near's expectations were dashed. The man before him was little more than a teenager, not dressed in a suit and tie but in jeans and white t-shirt that seemed at least two sizes too large. He had his right thumb placed in his mouth in a way that Near had abandoned long ago in favor of hair-twirling, and deep circles under his eyes gave the impression that he hadn't slept in years. "Oh, good evening," greeted the man who Near hoped with all his heart was not the brilliant detective he had heard other children gushing about.
The boy stayed silent, plopping down on the bare floor and glaring up at the insomniac suspiciously. Not intimidated, the man took another bite of the cake he seemed to be eating for dinner. "You are Near, correct?"
"Yes, I'm Near." Usually the child would have scoffed at a question whose answer was so obvious, but something about the way it had been said caught him off guard. The man's attitude seemed almost… playful. Near realized that the man had asked the question in the same teasing way with which Near himself had asked Roger who he going to meet.
The man smiled as he chewed thoughtfully on the strawberry dessert. It was a childish, playful smile which Near knew very well. But it wasn't anything like the childish smile the other children wore. It fact, it reminded Near of… Near. Could this man be L? he wondered silently.
"Mm," commented Perhaps-L suddenly, "This cake is quite delicious. Would you like some, Near?" He held out the plate of half-eaten pastry, and Near reached up and seized a piece with his hands uncertainly.
The child swallowed the cake with mild curiosity, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his pajamas. He debated remaining silent, then looked up at the man whom he was now sure was L and found himself saying, "It… is good."
"Yes, I'm glad you agree…" L placed his thumb in his mouth again and, apparently tired of small talk, added, "You are currently the best choice to be my successor. I was actually meant to meet with you two years ago, but a case came up. This year, despite the 56% chance that I would not get a chance to come here, I found myself with a good amount of free time."
Near leaned forward with anticipation. This L may not have lived up to his expectations, and yet somehow… Near liked him. No, it wasn't just that. It seemed like L might actually have managed to be more intelligent than Near. The feeling of pure genius came off of him in waves, and yet… Near wasn't jealous. No. He… he wanted L to be smart. Far smarter than him. He wanted L to be perfect. Perfect in a way Near himself would never be.
L paused from his mumbling, noticing his visitor's slight change in stance. He smiled another schoolboy-who-just-placed-a-tack-under-his-teacher's-chair smile and pulled himself out of his swiveling chair. His "standing" position was more like a slump, but he still towered over Near's tiny frame. He stared for a moment, then said something entirely unexpected: "You're a cute child, Near."
Near was silent yet again, but this time it was in reverence rather than scorn. In his entire five-year life, he had never respected another person. He had never even liked another person. They had been so far below him, and yet they had also been so far above him. They actually spoke to people, actually lived instead of just putting puzzles together all day. Near had always assumed that to live like them, he would have to be like them. And maybe he was being like them right now—acting stupidly, putting his trust in someone who couldn't even stand up straight—but he didn't mind. Near had never expected to meet someone who thought like he did, but…
But he had.
While most five-year-olds threw tantrums almost daily, Nate River had not cried once in his life. Not even as an infant. But now, with the kind, fatherly figure standing over him, Near found to his own astonishment that he was crying. And… was he clinging to the detective's leg like a needy child would do to his mother? Yes, it seemed he was. Here he was, sobbing onto the jeans of some strange insomniac with a sugar addiction, pouring out everything he had suffered, everything he had kept inside when he had had no one to turn to. Those days seemed distant now.
Once he had finished, Near collapsed, hiccupping, onto the ground, his eyes heavy and stinging. L had not moved an inch during the child's outburst, and was still staring down at him fondly. "Would you like some more cake, Near-kun?"
Near, who had never bothered to study foreign languages despite his unquestionable ability to do so, had no idea what kun meant, but judging from L's tone it seemed to be a term of endearment. "…Yes. Please," he murmured, drying his eyes tiredly.
A few seconds later a china plate was placed next to him on the floor. Near reached over and grabbed a handful silently. "You really are quite cute, Near-kun." L's voice seemed distant, as if spoken from a dream.
"…Thank you." As Near stared up at the ceiling, he smiled tentatively. No… he realized immediately that this couldn't happen without practice. He would have to smile more often, from now on. Though of course never in front of anybody else. Or at least anybody that wasn't L. He tried again. Without a mirror it was hard to tell, but he felt this smile was a bit closer to L's.
One day I'll be like you… he thought, chewing on the cake happily.
