Excerpt from the Diary of "Near", January 26, 2011 press enter to continue
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…It has been a year, to the day, since he died.
Mello. That was what he called himself. One of the most absurdly unfitting nicknames in the history of mankind. He was not mellow in any sense of the word. He was a queen—no matter how hard he tried to disguise it with a frankly amusing tough guy act. He always had a noble spirit, a proud bearing, and of course the drama he brought to every aspect of life. While I shall never know now, there is a rumour that he was a queen in other ways as well…
Yes, he was the one who made it his life's purpose to destroy everything that belonged to me…but my toys were never enough for him. No, he finished by breaking something that never really belonged to me at all.
Yes, that was Mello, alright, although perhaps I shouldn't throw too many stones at his choice of name. Think about mine. Hah. Near? I'm never near to anyone, and I sure as hell never will be.
That's a lesson I learned the hard way, at about the same time I beat my former "best friend" Mello in the annual exams for the first time, and… as Mello's fist approached my face at something like terminal velocity. I was not used to being looked at as if I was fresh vomit, but after that incident, I had to become used to it…well… rather suddenly.
I will never allow myself to be hurt like that again.
I will not die like the others… L, betrayed by his only friend, the murderer Kira. Matt , whose devotion to Mello lead him on a suicide mission. And, of course, Mello, who died because he was kind to the wrong woman.
You see? People who care, who get emotionally involved, they're the ones who get hurt. Kira, or should I say, Yagami Raito, was right about one thing: the earnest fools, in this world, they always lose. That is the way of life. And the older I got, the more I came to realize that people are either fools… or scum. …No. Humans are all scum, in one way or another. And I refuse to care anymore.
It has been a year since he died, sadly the closest thing to a friend I ever had. How dare he? Mello couldn't just stop at breaking my transformers, could he? Did he really have to take my heart and my humanity with him?
I wonder at times like this if death is really equitable. Is he in the same place as L? Kira? Matt? Mikami? In heaven or hell, or perhaps, neither? No…Mello was so full of life, so colorful a human being. I can't believe a spirit like his could ever really be gone forever.
I look at myself in comparison, and for the first time, I feel…bleached. For the first time, I really wish there was some color anywhere on my pale body, my white clothes that blend in so well with the snow that swirls around me and Mello's grave marker. A stain, a birth mark, anything. But no, I know even as I look that there won't be one. My body is unmarked, and Roger has always seen to it that my clothes were perfectly clean, and, of course, white. In truth, I had never much thought about it.
Mello might not have been able to see it, but I was always the weaker of the two of us. He won because he chose to live, realizing that that choice meant he would eventually die. He chose color. I chose white. Nothingness. I chose mere existence over the possibility of loss, of pain, of death.
I ensured that I would never die like L, like Matt, like Mello… Because to die implies that one was formerly alive.
But…
For the first time in my existence…I regret being colorless….
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