Title: Puzzle River Part 1 of 5: Competition
Fandom: Death Note
Characters: Near, Matt
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,600
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money, characters belong to Ohba and Obata.
Summary: Matt decides to teach Near a lesson about the trouble in Wammy's House caused by extreme competition.
"You fool!" was Near's first thought when he learnt that one of the kids at Wammy's House had overdosed on sleeping pills and died. It was not unknown for the orphans to self-destruct, but they usually did it years after they got out. This was the first time someone so young had killed herself at the institute. A worrisome trend.
His chest tightened. Nevertheless he could see no point in feeling grief, though the others might need some time to mourn. After 10 minutes of absolute silence, he formalized his plan and phoned Roger.
The dying rays of the setting sun stained the chapel blood-red as the children assembled for the emergency vigil. Candles flickered into light one-by-one, passed from hand to hand. An expectant hush settled on the crowd when Near appeared on the threshold but his only response was to meet their eyes glumly, solemnly, with robot clasped to his chest. Other than increased eye-contact, Near's gestures had not altered after his succession. Silently, he approached the front row bench and sat down.
Near steeled himself against the muffled sobs and angry voices of the crowd by pulling out a Rubic's cube and twisting it deftly. Within seconds he felt the surface of his mental lake become mirror calm and lock into his habitual state of meditative alertness.
A tall shadow with seasoned sneakers darkened the flagstones in front of him. He could feel the bench sink and creak as Matt slouched wearily into the backrest beside him. Then Matt hunched forward and gazed at him softly.
"Near, I'm really sorry to hear about the kid, but I couldn't help thinking -- she practically worshipped you. Do you think you could have done something to prevent it?"
Near's fingers paused for a second, before resuming methodically. His nose wrinkled at the memory the sour sweat of the 15 year old he met in the hallway a few days ago. She looked at him as if desperate for approval, and he calculated that her percentage of dependency and depression seemed to be very high in addition to dark, repressed energy. A worrisome attitude.
"Can I help you?" Near had asked out of a sense of duty, but frowning a little in annoyance at the interruption. The girl dropped her deer-like gaze, splashed some tears onto the carpet and bolted. Near had sighed in relief and immediately dismissed the incident...which was a mistake.
He hated to admit it, but he had made a mistake caused by his main strength, or rather weakness of diligence.Can nobody understand how his heart had been flying like an arrow straight to his target, Kira, since the dreadful moment in Roger's office two years ago? Time and space meant only the forking paths that continually narrowed down closer and closer to his prey, his enemy, his vengeance.
"No. No Matt. I cannot. No one knows my limitations better than myself. But I have proposed the remedy. That is all I can do."
"You're wrong Near. I think you can do better than that. Anyone can. It's not just her, but those other kids, cracking left, right and center, as if Kira were in their midst.He grinned at a sudden thought In that case wouldn't it make you Kira?"
"Why do you think I am involved in the children's mental breakdown?"
Matt had a wry, open look as he explained. "You're a natural, so you may or may not notice, but the competition you inspire is intense. Just by being who you are you inspire fears of inferiority.
Near lifted one eyebrow critically. "A novel concept-- for weak minds. It's our own responsibility, and no one else's -- to survive on what we've got. We try to hone what we've got to a jewel, not depend on the external."
"You can hardly call these kids weak-minded for cracking under this environment Near! Sixty geniuses in a hothouse is the extreme end of evolution! Its not a mental thing! No one thinks about competing to the death with someone else, but we all do it. We can't help it! We do it because in this game, sixty of us is gathered here in one room, and there can only be one winner!"
If anything, it's the rule of number one that has to change," Matt mused.
Matt's voice then became more intent. "Just a simple suggestion, Near. The kids here hang on to your words. Just relate to them a little, ok? These kids are dying for some warmth from you."
Near glanced steadily at Matt, eyes amused with a twitch of irony on his lips.
"No, I disagree. And you'll see, I don't have to be accommodating in any way at all, and I can still save more lives than someone bending over backwards to play nice."
Matt's mouth hung open in outrage and he was about to retort but at that moment Roger appeared on stage to make his announcement. His long-suffering face appeared papery and deeply creased above the flickering orange bushels of votive candles. But when he spoke, his voice held a deep conviction that captured the students.
"Today is a tragic day in the history of our school. Let us observe a minute of silence."
"Our founder, Quillish Wammy, aimed to build up the resiliency and resourcefulness of our students through competition, but what he envisioned is nothing like what I see today. I see competition at its most childish level, at a win-lose situation where the winner rules over the loser. I see students become hermits. I see students disheartened because they cannot be number one. But number one is a brief illusion that is quickly shattered. What is real and lasting is our need to grow into our unique shape, and that is the real reason for which we compete."
When we compete with our opponent, the winner and so-called loser both arrive at a higher level. In other words, they have combined as one and both need each other to progress. Without opponents, we will not be able to grow. Everyone wins or loses at some point but it is no shame at all because we all grow because of it.
So dear children, remember you are never alone. We are all waves in a deep river stretching to infinity and rise or fall as clusters of waves. Appreciate the group around you, because creativity occurs in clusters.
The student body murmured approvingly at Roger's inspired speech and there were some group hugs happening, together with a fresh burst of weeping. Near felt a burden lift from his heart and he blushed at the passion he sensed welling from the group. Matt whistled and clapped his hands in admiration. "Wow, Roger's surpassed himself this time, this isn't his style at all, in fact its much better, don't you think so Near?
Near gave Matt a smug smile. "Yes, it was a good speech, if I may say so myself."
"What do you mean say so yourself..."
"I don't have to bend over backwards to play nice when I can have other people do it for me." This time Near grinned through the hand covering his mouth.
"You're a big-headed bastard,you really are!!" Matt grabbed the lapels of his blazer and looked like he wanted to strangle Near, before Roger's voice rang out again. Under Roger's pointed glare, Matt automatically released Near and turned away, but not before he caught the sparkle in Near's dark eyes.
"Told you so!" Near whispered, suddenly feeling light-headed. Matt shot him a vicious look sideways.
The final exams will be postponed for a week. Tonight, everyone will go on a school trip to our branch in Brighton, where you will mingle with the other children in a sports festival. Attendance is compulsory.
Near and Matt, you are free to continue your investigation uninterrupted.
The student body was again in an uproar.
Matt froze at Roger's announcement and sat up very straight, hands on his knees. He quickly shot Near a look, then looked away, as if considering. When he turned again with a gleam in his eye, Near suddenly had a sinking sensation in his stomach and hugged himself closer to his knee.
"Come with me, Near."
"Where?", Near asked suspiciously.
Oh, just to the green room behind the stage.
Why. We shouldn't be wasting time just because the whole school is on holiday.
"No," we won't be wasting time at all. And so saying he gripped Near's shoulder and pushed him quickly through a door at the left of the stage. The sounds and lights of the main hall were immediately muffled. The vestibular space was vaulted and dimly lit by icy blue twilight filtering from the masonry laced arches. There were chairs and boxes stacked against the walls, making it appear like a storeroom.
"It's dark...!" Near protested, stopping and a little frightened by Matt's unpredictable change.
"Go on," Matt urged, his voice tight and coercive. "C'mon, Near, don't tell me you've never been here before? This is just the green room."
Actually, Near had never ventured beyond the front bench of the chapel, but didn't feel like admitting it to Matt at this point. "You're weird, man," complained Near sulkily as he pushed forward. He hoped Matt wasn't about to pull one of his stupid pranks.
"Here we are!"announced Matt, pushing open a heavy wooden door in another walled in archway. The room smelled musty and earthy, like an empty cave after rain. The block of deep blue light pouring from the end wall clearly divided the room into two. In the gloom, Near could see his white shirt and pants glowing eerily.
"Welcome to my castle!"
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Concrit welcome, thanks! D