I decided to deleat the chapter on Near's childhood. So if anyone wants to read it, pleasego to my profile. I will be posting it soon.
Near woke up and stared at the ceiling. He sighed. Today was just a normal day. There was still going to be classes and there was still going to be the sky, the sun, and life would go on. I mean, what was so special about a birthday?
All the others at Wammy's House always gave him "birthday beatings". Weren't those supposed to be fun for the giver and receiver of the beatings? Near always ended up with a bloody nose, bruises, cuts, or something like that. Why did the others even bother to remember his birthday?
Near got up and headed for the bathroom. He took a shower, wrapped a towel around his waist and looked at himself in the mirror.
"I don't look any older, do I?" Near thought to himself. His hair was still a long tangle of curls and his eyes still held no emotion; same eyes, same lips, same hair, same cheeks, same face…
He grabbed the white pyjama like shirt and pants and put them on. He always wore white. It had never really occurred to him as to why he did.
He shuffled back to his room and sat on the floor beside the toys he had yet to put away. Near wanted to be the next L. He studied hard and always aced his classes. He solved cases that had previously been solved and then would check to see if he got it right. He was very determined. He was always trying to figure out new ways to get better and beat Mello, his greatest competition, at becoming the next L. He figured that if he became the next L, the world's greatest detective, he could stop more bad people from harming others, like his father had harmed his mother.
Near held back a sniff. He wasn't supposed to think of his mother. He was trying to forget that and had been doing quite a good job. Heck, no one even knew why he kept the nick-name "Near". No one in the Wammy House knew about his mother, except Roger and Near. Roger pitied him more than anything.
Near picked up the nearest toy. It was a simple robot; red and blue in colour, with arms and legs that moved up and down, and a head that moved side to side. It was one of the first toys he had gotten upon arriving at Wammy's House.
He smiled slightly, a rare thing for Near. He liked his toys. They were one of the few things he did like.
Although he had sat with his toys with the intension of playing with them, he didn't really feel like it. He was hungry but didn't want to go eat. It didn't look like it but Near was actually quite stubborn. He didn't like submitting to something as useless as hunger and food like Mello did with chocolate. It was disgusting. How can anyone eat that much chocolate. Near didn't even touch that stuff for fear of "catching" whatever Mello had that involved the vile stuff. It was quite unscientific of Near to think he could "catch" something like that. He didn't mind that it wasn't, as long as no one found out about his fear of eating chocolate… Yes Near was afraid of chocolate.
He checked the time. It was ten thirty-seven. He should probably go down and get something to eat but he didn't want to get "birthday beatings" quite yet. His stomach gurgled and he sighed. He couldn't wait. His stomach was annoying and he couldn't concentrate on anything when there is something annoying around him, like Mello, but he was at least used to Mello by now. Well Near thought he was anyway.
He got up off the floor and went to the door. He grabbed the door knob and mentally prepared himself for the ambush that was probably waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. He was about to open the door when he heard shuffling of feet outside his door. It was either just people walking around or they were waiting to ambush him there and not at the bottom of the stairs. Near thought for a moment. He could open the door and get beat up, maybe, or he could stay in his room with the door locked for the rest of the day…
This was a difficult decision. Should he go out or should he stay? What would be the logical thing to do? He was deep in thought. If he stayed in his room, tomorrow everyone would be mad and the beatings would be worse. Or maybe they would forget about it. That was not likely.
Near decided to open the door. He peered out first and looked down the hallway. He couldn't see anyone so he progressed to the stairs. They didn't look suspicious but then again, when has a flight of stairs even looked suspicious?
He stepped onto the first step trying not to make a sound. It was very quiet in the Wammy House. This alone was suspicious. Where was everyone? Usually almost everyone was awake around this time.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs he stopped. He looked out the window. So that was where everyone was. It was snowing. Snow covered the ground thickly, everything was white. It looked clean and fresh. Near almost wanted to join everyone in the snow… Almost.
He navigated his was to the kitchen where even the cook wasn't there. He helped himself to some plain old cheerio's; no sugar, no milk, nothing. The sound of the cereal crunching as he chewed was somewhat innerving him. It was too loud for the all silent Wammy House.
When he was finished he placed his bowl and spoon in the sink with the rest of the dishes and went to sit in his favourite spot on the windowsill. It was in the common room and it faced the yard where everyone was playing and laughing in the snow. The snow was calming and silent, clean, and white. It remind Near of himself other than the calming part. He usually annoyed people with his "no emotion" rather than calm them.
He watched as the other children ran about throwing snowballs at each other. Near never really understood how someone could be laughing while being chased and having snowballs thrown at them. It seem very odd. Other children were making snow angels and snowmen. Some sat on benches chatting or trying to catch the cold, wet, white fluff on their tongues. Near wished to join them even if it meant being pelted with snowballs and getting chilled and soaked to the bone.
It was then that he realised he was actually disappointed that he hadn't been given his "birthday beatings". Near wasn't sure why he was disappointed. He had always thought that it was a great thing to be alone and silent, no friends, no enemies, no beatings. But Near missed the socialisation. This was also odd to Near. How could he miss something like that?
He started twirling a piece of his hair around his finger, a habit that everyone was waiting for him to get rid of. He noticed Mello and Matt playing in the snow, laughing and just having fun. Mello chucked a snowball at Mat and it his him in the back of the head. Matt turned around and scooped up some snow and threw it at Mello, but Mello was already starting to run away from him.
Near watched them throwing snowballs at each other until they disappeared around the side of the building and Near could no longer see them. Near had actually been enjoying himself up until this point. He wondered if it would be a good idea to go out and get some fresh air. The snow did look very inviting.
Near didn't really own any thick outdoor clothes. He had never really gone outside during the winter for any longer than a few minutes. His skin was much too sensitive (that was probably due to the fact that he never went outside… well, rarely). He knew it probably would have been a good idea if he had gone out during the warmer seasons so his skin wouldn't be as pale as it was. Pale skin burns and is a lot more sensitive to the elements.
He headed back up to his room to grab his heaviest jacket (which was not heavy at all) and a pair of gloves. He slid his feet into his "outdoor shoes" and headed back downstairs. He looked at the door to the outside and wondered if this really was a good idea. He opened the door and the crisp cold air met his skin. Near shivered and stepped out onto the porch and down the stairs onto the snow.
The snow was deep, it reached just above Near's knees. He glanced around the yard and decided he would on the bench close the pond.
He sat and looked at the ice that covered the pond. The snow and the ice sparkled as the light hit it. It was… what? Near couldn't think of any word to describe it. It might be sparkling but no emotion was held by Near about it.
Near guessed that someone would call it pretty or even beautiful. How could it be though? Something cold and wet.
"Hey look!" A boy called out. "It's Near! Why is he outside?"
"Where is that fucker?!" Near recognized that voice. Mello.
"Over there Mel. He's sitting on the bench." Matt told Mello. Near didn't look towards them. He knew what would come next. It might be cold out but Mello wouldn't care. He would beat Near up either way.
Their food steps were muffled slightly by the fluffy snow as they walked towards Near.
"Near." Mello growled out when he stopped in front of him.
Near didn't speak, he didn't make a sound.
"Why don't you even say anything!" Mello asked furiously. His fist connected with the side of Near's head. Near fell off the bench and into the snow. He gave a cry when the cold wetness hit his face. Luckily Mello and Matt didn't hear the cry, they were too busy laughing.
Near didn't move, he couldn't. At least not with out pushing himself deeper into the snow. He lifted his head slightly only to have it forced back down by Mello.
"Happy birthday Near." Mello sneered at him and kept his foot on the back of Near head, keeping him from lifting his head.
Mat laughed started to bury Near in snow.
"I knew it wasn't a good idea to come outside." Near thought with his eyes squeezed shut.
A few minutes later Near was completely buried in snow and he couldn't move at all.
"Let's go Matt." Mello said, clearly exhausted.
"Are we really going to leave him buried in snow?" Matt asked nervously.
"He'll be fine, not that I care." They both went inside, leaving Near in the snow.
Near couldn't feel the cold anymore. This was not a good sign. He could breath though, his breath had melted an air pocket…
He tried to move his arms and legs. He couldn't. How much snow was he buried under?
He grew tired of trying to move. All he wanted to do was sleep. Yes sleep, sleep sounded good to him. Even though he knew, he might die if he did. Sleeping while freezing cold, buried in snow, was about the worst thing you could do.
He felt himself slipping away. It wasn't exactly sleep. It felt different, wrong. Near fell into emptiness.
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