Reincarnation
10 years later.
Alone. That's the only word Near and his entire mastery of the English language—which was well over 100,000 words—could think of in means of describing himself. Utterly alone and forlorn. Even as the current proprietor of Wammy's House children naturally idolized him and watched everything he did with wonder. Being the top ranking detective in the world, he was their hero; their idol. But none of that mattered to Near, now on the edge of twenty-nine. All the people closest to him, his dearest friends, had been dead for years. L; Mello; Matt; the only people he could cling to, were gone. He was truly alone in a world full of people.
Near sat on the floor of his room, laptop in front of him, keying information into files with an impassive expression on his face, pausing once or twice to curl a strand of stark hair around an index finger. He had a mahogany desk and chair equipped with wheels but he much preferred the floor. With one leg tucked under him and knee drawn up to his chest, he worked diligently at what he was doing.
"Near." A voice addressed him, coming from a vocal feed on his computer.
"Yes? What is it, Giovanni?" Near answered tonelessly.
"Have you looked over the files?"
"Yes, I have. I'm sending it back to you now with the analyses I've made."
"Right, Near."
"Is that all?"
"Yes,"
"Goodbye for now then." Click. With a few strokes of the keys Near sent the file attached to an email back to his colleague and sighed deeply. Near pushed himself up off the floor, one hand in his pocket and another toying with a strand of hair once again. Silently, he padded out of the room, his mind wandering to days back when he was a child at this institution. Back when he looked up to L, when he rivaled with Mello. He missed those days; so very much. He missed them. He didn't want to be alone like this, he would rather die. In fact over the course of the last ten years he contemplated ending himself more than over thirty times total. But in the end the realist in him prevailed and he decided that he did not come this far to do that to himself. Besides, the others wouldn't want him to do that. He had to keep going for their sakes. He absentmindedly walked down the stairs and out the front door, the cool, crisp air of twilight proving to be relaxing.
Why?
He went around in circles, dazed and confused as he was.
Why did he have to kill them and leave me behind?
He must have looped the perimeter a dozen times before he realized what he was doing.
Why?
Near then sat on a bench and watched the sky. It was approaching the end of what one would call dusk, the sun, now a dull orangey glow, was sinking behind the trees and the sky itself transformed into a colorful canvas of oranges and pinks and yellows. It was his favorite time of the day.
"Excuse me?" A voice suddenly piped up, snapping him out of his thoughts. Near glanced at what appeared to be three children. Three boys; all of different heights and ages, except two of them seemed fairly close together. "But we're looking to meet someone here. A close friend, really." Near looked them over and almost gasped.
The tallest and oldest boy had wide onyx orbs for eyes, the second had icy blue, and the third had green.
". . . L-L . . . M-Mello . . . Matt . . ."
All three grinned mischievously, "Hello, Near. It's nice to see you again."