The title is a last-minute thing. I don't like it.

Character(s): Mello, Near

Setting: Early volume five; Wammy's House

Spoilers: Meh. Page.59 or page.61, I suppose...

Disclaimer: Explain to me why the author of a work would be publishing short stories on ff.n for no profit rather than on a legimate source for mucho money. (Don't own, don't profit, don't sue.)

The atmosphere at Wammy's House had changed again.

For the past two weeks, there had been an eager, excited tone in the air, but that had changed with the arrival of the newspaper that morning. Now uncertainty abounded, and the children were not without disappointment. It was a quiet, tame bunch that made their way outside after breakfast that day.

Even Mello, bringing up the rear of the crowd, didn't seem to have his usual energy, and when they passed the room where Near was setting up winding paths of dominos, Mello detached himself from the crowd and stepped inside.

Near glanced up only briefly before returning to his task.

Mello leaned on a wall, watching the other boy. "You saw the paper?" he asked without emotion. It was a safe way to bring up the topic without saying anything about it—without mentioning or asking for any conclusions that could be jumped to.

Mello supposed they'd all jumped to conclusions, believing what they'd wanted to believe. But weren't those conclusions reasonable enough? Kira hadn't murdered anyone for two weeks, and though there wasn't much discussion of it, everyone at Wammy's House had begun to think that maybe, maybe finally—

Then, yesterday, more criminals had died. Kira was active again.

It was disappointing, certainly, but maybe they shouldn't have jumped to conclusions in the first place.

Near set three dominos in place with a steady hand and breathed a light sigh. "Of course I saw the paper." He said nothing else.

After a few silent seconds, Mello asked, "What d'you think happened?"

Near sent a half-glare at him from the corners of his eyes. There was an unspoken rule against questions like that; first of all, everyone was supposed to study the facts individually and make their own deductions, in any situation. And asking at a time like this, with such volatile circumstances…

But Mello stared back without retracting his question, and finally Near admitted, "I don't know."

Mello made a sound of mock-surprise in his throat. "So even the great Near can't figure it out…"

Near ignored the comment and continued to work silently.

After a second, Mello sat down, still leaning against the wall. "I bet you didn't even jump to conclusions at all, right?" he asked Near in a slightly rueful tone. "Just calmly watched what was going on…"

Keeping his eyes firmly set on his dominos, Near softly answered, "That's not true." A pause, and he continued even more quietly. "I was really starting to think that L had won."

Mello gave a small, knowing nod. They'd all been thinking that; it seemed the natural conclusion. But now, now that Kira had started killing again after two weeks, conclusions were much more difficult to draw.

"Did Kira trick him?" Mello wondered out loud.

Near frowned childishly without saying anything. His reaction was far from surprising; the idea that perhaps someone, a criminal, had managed to trick L was irritating, to say the least.

But that was hardly the only worry, and Mello found it hard to inject confidence into his voice when he spoke again. "It can't, you know, can't… it can't be that Kira… got him?"

Near's hand, putting a domino in place, jerked suddenly and started the domino chain falling. Quickly Near slid his finger between two of them to halt the progression early, before it destroyed everything else.

There was silence for a few moments. Finally—

"That can't be it," Near answered, his voice almost firm. He didn't give a reason for his conclusion, only repeated, "That can't be it."

Mello nodded as if he had thought that all along. Then he stood and looked down at Near. "…Let's play a game."

Near turned his face up at him without saying anything.

"C'mon," Mello encouraged, more forcefully. "Anything. You pick."

"A competition," Near clarified knowingly.

Mello, his lips pursed in light sullenness, didn't need to answer.

Near sighed and stood. They would find comfort in familiar things.