Theme: 19:00 - Diversity, blending or healing differences, gentle care towards others
Title: Left to the Ghosts
Rating: PG
Warnings: General spoilers apply to Mello's character. Very mild language.
Disclaimer: Death Note © Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi
Summary: It was hard to deal with something so out of your control it left you gasping for air. But Near didn't know how it felt. Mello and Near friendship/slight fluff.

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Ever since Watari's announcement between Mello and himself, Mello had resorted to shutting himself up in his room. No one else really knew what to think, and not even Matt could snap him out of it, no matter how many times he banged on the door and demanded entry. He never answered. To put it lightly, a lot of the older children at the orphanage were worried. The one's that had anything to do with Mello. Knew that he didn't exactly have a stable personality. Knew that there had to be something wrong.

Near knew well. Knew what was wrong. He knew it without ever having to do anything, because of all the times Mello had thrown himself forward and attempted to be 'the best' (a loose definition, at most), Near was able to derive his own conclusions.

For one, life was about winning and losing. For another, Mello didn't care what he had to do or who he had to step on, but he was going to win. Near couldn't recall a time where Mello had ever been just that – mellow, laid back. After all the time he spent around Matt, you think he'd pick up some of that languor. Maybe Matt was just grounds to keep Mello from really screwing up. If he could get any worse, that is.

But nonetheless, Near was worried. He tried not to be, and even went as far as keeping himself occupied by pulling out a thousand-piece puzzle he'd received just the other day. But his mind kept wandering. Kept worrying.

He didn't know why, though. Shouldn't he resent Mello for never getting past the fact that he was out to get him, even though he really wasn't? Near never had the intention to make him suffer in any way; he just seemed to bring it upon himself without even realizing it. It wasn't healthy, definitely not. But no one could change his mind. He was probably the most determined person Near knew, but then again, Near didn't know very many people well.

Somehow, even with his fingers working mechanically at the puzzle, Near's mind couldn't focus. It took a while, but he eventually managed to build up enough courage to check on Mello himself. Even though he knew the other wouldn't appreciate it in the slightest (especially not after this morning), he had to do it. Couldn't sleep without knowing for certain that Mello hadn't completely flipped out of his mind.

It was sometime around seven when Near finally got to Mello's room, and he made easy work of the lock on the door. Any other day, Near would never dream of doing this, but tonight was a special occasion. Tonight was…tonight was the night that everything had the frightening potential to change. With just a breath of air and a few sharp words, Mello could doom himself to failure forever.

Near couldn't help but want to stop that. So what if Mello hated him? Near didn't despise him, he never had any reason to. Mello created his own reasons, lived off of his own assumptions.

Standing on tip-toe, Near pushed his small body against the door and eventually managed to wedge it open, eyes shadowed in the absence of light as he peered through the threshold, seeking out the familiar form of the other boy. It didn't take too long for him to catch sight of the heap on the mattress across the room.

As he stepped inside, Mello snapped out of his reverie and whipped his head in the direction of the door, eye landing on Near instantly. A scowl cleared the surprised look from his face in a matter of seconds. "You!" he hissed, but Near expected this well ahead. "How did you get in here!"

For a moment, Near couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of Mello on his knees, hair a mess, eyes bloodshot, and cheeks wet with what must've been tears. Then he found his voice. "Mello—"

But he never got much more out. Near let out a soft startled sound as he ducked the pillow that crashed into the wall above his head, eyes widening. He certainly hadn't been expecting that. Sure, he knew Mello would be mad, but to assault him so directly without any taunting prior was an oddity in itself.

"Get out!" the other boy said, but Near heard his voice crack and that was enough of a heads-up to convince him that he needed to stay just a little while longer.

Near wasn't one of the most empathetic people out there, in all truth. He didn't really understand why Mello was so upset, but then again, he never understood Mello's course of actions from the beginning. How could someone be so careless, letting their emotions control them so recklessly like that?

But even if he never understood, that didn't prevent him from trying to stop Mello from hurting so obviously. L was his idol. L was his dream, his ambition, his drive. And to have that suddenly, so plainly ripped away from him was pain on whole other level that Near would probably never come to terms with.

It was cruel, Near knew, for Mello's dream to be handed over to someone who didn't even care if they got it or not. It was cruel, but it was Mello's fault. It was just a matter of convincing to get him to understand that. But some part of him knew he never would.

"Mello," Near tried again, inching closer, small fingers curling around the hem of his long pajama sleeves. He vaguely remembered the time when Mello picked on him for always wearing a pair of pajamas, and how Mello had nearly ripped the shirt material to pieces when he was feeling particularly vindictive. Such a memory was far away, like a distant echo of what couldn't have been too long ago, and Near only briefly lingered on it.

"Mello," he whispered a third time, but continued to receive no response besides the wrenching sobs that shook the other boy's skeletal frame as he curled in on himself, arms wrapped too tightly around his knees that were pressed roughly against his chest. The position hardly looked comfortable. It was even worse from how Near or even L chose to sit, just going by the way Mello's bones were so sharp, his body so thin yet so strong at the same time. He was probably squeezing the blood right out of his legs.

By the time Near managed to wiggle himself up beside the older boy, Mello's crying had subsided a little bit, reduced to occasional sniffling, but he still refused to raise his head from its stubborn spot against his thighs. Near thought about it for a moment, considering the damage it might earn him, before gently placing his hand on the other's shoulder. His palm was warm against Mello's cold bare skin, and he watched through passive eyes as the blonde jerked away from the touch.

"You're leaving," he stated suddenly, voice bland like no one's his age should ever be.

He felt more than heard the tremor that jarred Mello's body then, but could tell he was probably laughing, even though Near couldn't personally find anything at all humorous about his comment. His pale brows furrowed in a question that Mello couldn't see.

"Yeah," the older boy breathed, at last picking his head up from its confined space against his legs. He looked too worn, too tired. Not at all like the high-strung Mello that he was used to seeing, that he would rather be facing right now.

"Yeah," he said again. "I'll be outta here by the morning."

Out of here, but where was he going? What would he do? He wasn't old enough to make it on his own yet, not yet. These thoughts and more raced through Near's usually pacified mind, and he suddenly began to feel something he hadn't in a long while, not since he'd first arrived at Whammy's House: panic. He felt panicked, backed into a corner. And somehow, he knew this was something that Mello must be entirely too used to by now.

"Where will you go?" Near ventured, hand remaining unmoving against his self-proclaimed rival's shoulder.

"I dunno, I guess I'll see when I get there," was his only offered answer. Near wasn't very satisfied, but he didn't pursue the subject.

They fell into a lull after that, and Near couldn't help but listen to the other's shallow breathing, the way his chest strained to take in gasps of air, struggling past the tension left over from crying so hard. He'd seen Mello cry before, of course, but only once. It was when he had his rosary necklace snapped out when he was playing with some of the other boys of the orphanage. He'd held the broken treasure in his fists, bawling his eyes out (he was only eight at the time) until one of the nice maids that happened to come across him calmed him down, promising that they could fix it.

He had looked so hopeful, eyes wide and bright, carefully watching the woman as she took the necklace from him and lead him down the hallway and away from where Near sat on the rug with his toys. That had also been one of the first times Mello hadn't noticed him, had bypassed him completely in favor of following after the nice lady.

Near sought out the rosary now, hanging loosely from the other's neck just as it had so many years ago, when things had somehow seemed so less complicated. It looked just the same, red beads and thin cross, restrung back into ordinance. He'd never broken it again.

It was a while before Mello seemed to snap back to himself, and when he did, he looked at Near as though he'd gone crazy. "What the hell are you doing in here?" Shaking off the hand on his shoulder, Mello scowled, scooting farther away until his feet dropped down onto the floor and he stood straight. Near didn't say anything, only smiled slightly, though Mello couldn't see it. At least he knew he'd be okay.

"I was worried about you," Near answered honestly, voice as infuriatingly toneless as it always had been.

Mello's eyes widened with what looked like disbelief, then narrowed into suspicious slits. "No you weren't, you just wanted to rub the fact that you're L's real successor into my face again, didn't you? Well, I don't care anymore. Go away."

At least he was back to normal, but Near couldn't help but prefer the quiet, subdued Mello over this thoughtlessly defiant one. If not for the sake of saving himself a headache or two.

Near clambered over to the edge of the bed again, away from where Mello currently stood looking rather detrimental, and made his way back to the door of the room. Mello's attention turned elsewhere as soon as he figured Near was going to leave him alone at last. But just as he began to leave, the smaller boy turned back around, blinking eerily doe-like eyes over at the other boy.

"I never thought of you as a rival, you know," Near said in little more than a murmur, his voice meek. Then his small hand wrapped around the doorknob, and he was gone.

Mello was left alone after that, not feeling at all satisfied with the encounter. That comment had certainly pushed him out of his element, but he attempted to force the sensation away. No, no time for that now. He needed to get ready.