A/N: The insanity of this is so evident that I will mention it no further... my only other comment about this is 'Why the hell didn't I think of it sooner!?'
Disclaimer: I don't own Deathnote.
Summary: Alright... so maybe telling a toy obsessed genius about Santa Claus wasn't the best idea ever. Very light MelloxNear
Title: The Christmas Incident
Christmas. By far the most commercialized, anticipated, and all around overestimated holiday of the year. The largest spokesperson in many countries for this holiday, the main, most highly recognizable symbol is, of course, Santa Claus. Kris Kringle. Old St. Nicholas himself. The fat guy with the beard and the reindeer and the cliché red suit. Yeah, you know who I mean.
It is customary for parents, guardians, or other adult caretakers to inform children of this fantastical figure. It is their traditional duty to explain about how the jolly old saint travels the world by mysterious means one night a year, pops down chimneys, and leaves toys for the boys and girls who have suitably conformed to the standards of positive behavior.
Such it was that Roger, the caretaker of the orphanage known as Wammy's House, came to tell this tale to the highly intelligent children residing there. The older children, and even several of the younger, easily brushed this story off as just that: a story. However the youngest and the most fanciful of the children accepted the entire thing as cold hard fact.
Near, being six, fell under the 'youngest' category. He immediately felt that this Santa Claus person was more important to him than he was to any other child in the orphanage. Because really most of them spent their time outside doing weird things like sports and breathing fresh air. So they wouldn't be as appreciative of the marvelous toys as Near would.
Christmas approached, and Near behaved his best. Although considering that most of his time was spent in the classroom, the playroom, and his own bedroom, Near had rarely gotten into any trouble even before the whole Santa Claus issue. So it wasn't really much of a difference. Nonetheless, he did his best.
His main hope was that Santa would bring the special collector's edition Lego Dinosaur set that had over two thousand pieces. Near had wanted that more than anything else for the longest time. The small boy could hardly wait, his usually rock-solid control slipping slightly the closer the holiday came.
Christmas Eve, and Near found that his apathy utterly failed him, the excitement reaching such a great level that he couldn't get to sleep until the earliest hour of the morning.
It was so wonderful! So exhilarating to know that when he woke up, he'd receive that which he wanted so badly!
You can imagine his disappointment, therefore, when he arrived at the oversized Christmas tree in the orphanage living room and discovered that there was only one present for him there. And it was a puzzle.
Now, don't get the wrong idea, Near loved puzzles. But this was pathetic. It had twenty pieces and was a picture of a duck. He didn't want to seem ungrateful, but it was such an awful gift, such a terrible let-down... he took the puzzle up to his playroom, buried his face in his knee, and worked very hard not to cry. Then Near thought that maybe if he just tried the puzzle...
It took him a total of thirty highly unsatisfactory seconds to complete. And the duck looked out at him in a way that his disappointed young eyes perceived as cruel and mocking. Why had Santa done this? Maybe he hadn't understood Near's letter? ...but it had been such a clear and precise letter... maybe Near hadn't been good enough? But he couldn't think of anything he'd done wrong... Then it hit Near. It was a mistake! A simple mistake was all! Santa was obviously very busy after all, so it was only natural that he makes a mistake now and again. Near would just have to take steps next year to see to it that the mistake was not repeated.
Months passed, and there was certainly plenty in Wammy's House to keep a brilliant young mind occupied. In his free moments, however, Near plotted. He planned very carefully, allowing room for several unforeseen details and being sure to factor in the possibility of flying reindeer being dangerous.
Christmas eve rolled round again, this time on a seven year old, and far more prepared Near. The boy waited until he was sure everyone else in the orphanage was asleep. He gathered the objects essential to his plan and made his way quietly down to the living room.
The first thing he did was to hang the net he had gotten from the soccer goals over the fireplace. The fire had been extinguished, of course, because how else would Santa be able to safely exit the chimney? Next, Near placed a variety of circular toys around the entrances to the room, in case Santa had decided to be sneaky and come in a different way. Then the albino wedged himself between the Christmas tree and the wall to wait.
Hours passed, and Near began to nod off. He was just succumbing to the urge to sleep, when a yell and a loud thump had him leaping from his hiding place... and staring in surprise. It was Roger! He had entered through the door and tripped over a small bouncy ball. An armful of presents scattered themselves around the room, and everything became clear to Near.
"Oh..." The small boy fidgeted, twirling at his hair anxiously. Roger painstakingly pulled himself to his feet.
"Near! What's going on!?" Roger asked in an odd sort of whisper that indicated he wanted to yell but was afraid of waking any of the other children.
"I... wanted to catch Santa Claus." Near explained, blushing slightly as he realized the truth, and thought of what a fool he'd been to believe. Roger stared in disbelief, and then began to laugh quietly.
"I-I see." He chuckled, and Near looked down at his feet. "Well... as you've probably gathered, there isn't really a Santa Claus." Near nodded. "Well... please don't tell any of the others who don't know yet. It's all good fun for them. I'm sorry for the confusion." Roger picked up all the presents and placed them neatly under the tree. "Now, I'd suggest you take all of your 'traps' and head back to bed."
Near could only do what he was told, and pray that no one ever found out about this. It seemed that the world had a great deal of hatred for the poor boy that night though, because on his way out he caught none other than Mello listening in at the door. The two stopped, eyes locking, Near's blush growing. Mello only raised an eyebrow, and Near thought he'd melt into a puddle of humiliation right there.
"So... why?" The blonde asked, obviously amused. Near couldn't help it, he cried. Silently, shoulders shaking slightly with the effort to stop, Near cried.
"I... I just wanted some Dinosaur Legos... I didn't know and..." Near couldn't go on, he spun around and made a break for it back to his room. Mello just stood there, aghast. That had not been the reaction he'd expected...
Near woke up the next morning curled in a ball on top of his blankets. He got up miserably, wondering if Mello was cruel enough to tell everyone else of last night's fiasco. Definitely, he decided. There was no way Mello would pass up an opportunity to embarrass his rival.
Or so Near thought.
But no one else seemed to know anything about the night's fiasco. Not even Matt, Mello's best friend, appeared to be aware of it. Near was quite confused and more than a little apprehensive.
If Mello hadn't told anyone, that could only mean that blackmail was imminent. All while opening his present, a puzzle of a dog this time, Near steeled himself for the blonde's approach. Nothing. Throughout breakfast and classes, Near braced for the venomous whisper, the meaningful glare, the surreptitious note. Nothing.
The rest of the day Near spent in his playroom, waiting for Mello to turn up and say his piece. Freaking nothing.
And for the next four days it was the same. If anything Mello seemed to be avoiding Near. But on the fifth day, when Near made his very puzzled way to his playroom, something happened.
It happened in the form of a medium-size box in shiny yellow wrapping with a blue bow resting in the middle of the carpet. Near stared. He stared for a good five minutes before deciding the present wasn't going to evaporate.
Next he slowly shuffled over to the box and examined it carefully. After all, there was no reason to suspect it was for him just because it was in the place he spent the majority of his time.
'To: Near' A card proclaimed from the top of the package. It didn't say who it was from. Hesitantly, Near slid a finger under a fold in the wrapping paper. His mouth felt dry, and he swallowed several times in an attempt to relieve it. Near took a deep breath, and tore as much of the wrapping paper off as he could as quickly as possible.
A gasp escaped the albino's lips. Hands flew to his mouth as his eyes filled with tears. Tears of joy, surprise. Tears of pure delight and sentiment at this generous gesture that could only have come from one person, unlikely as it seemed.
It was the Lego Dinosaur set he had wanted, the super deluxe collector's edition. And suddenly it didn't matter that Santa Claus didn't exist, or that he'd behaved incredibly foolishly, or anything else.
All that mattered was that this was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him, and Near had to find Mello straightaway to thank him.
Words failed to describe the astonishment of the Wammy's House orphans when they saw Near, the pale recluse, stumbling his way over the hill up to the soccer field. This was unprecedented. This was unheard of! This was just plain weird.
All the children within eyesight stopped to stare at the spectacle. One of them happened to be blonde, temperamental, and the unwitting cause of the phenomenon. Near made his way over to Mello, stopping right in front of him.
"Uh… hi." Mello said weakly, too stunned to think of anything else.
"…Hi…" Near replied, so softly that Mello automatically leaned closer to hear better.
"So…" Mello scratched the back of his head awkwardly, wondering if maybe the whole gift thing had been a mistake. Near looked up, locking eyes with his nemesis.
"Mello… thank you." And Near smiled. It wasn't something anyone could remember seeing before. And as Near turned shyly away, heading back to the safety of the indoors, Mello could only think that he had just received a present far more wonderful than a fictional fat man could ever deliver.
END.
A/N: Yes, I know Near is hideously OOC in this. There is no need to tell me. I just… couldn't see any way around it. So… let's say it's because he's really young. Yeah, let's go with that. Ok, so I'd like reviews from everyone who isn't dead from the sappiness! In fact, I'd like reviews even from the people who did die of the sappiness! Come on now, I have nothing against the undead! You are welcome here!