I drabbled this down.. Since I myself don't always have the best of times on holidays. I also haven't updated anything in a long, long time. My bad.
Near, Mello, and Death Note are not mine.
Piece after piece went into the puzzle, pale hand pressing them gently into their fit row after row. After moments when the white puzzle was finished, they were taken apart and scattered, only to be placed back together once more. Near tried to distract himself as he put them in by columns, rows, an X, in diagonal rows, eyes closed, during a rubix cube with his feet at the same time- nothing made it better. Nothing; the albino still got it all right every single time. Not only that, but he was doing it so absentmindedly.
Perhaps if he got something wrong he's top thinking about it. Stop thinking about his past and Mello. But he didn't get anything wrong, and he just kept thinking.
This was completely frustrating to the young genius. He was always in his right might, he was able to multitask, he was able to suppress each and every emotion and instinctive feeling a human could get, and he was the overanalysing Virgo of the zodiac. And yet, he couldn't get these simple thoughts away from his mind.
Not once had the snowy-haired male ever been strayed from his work before. And yet now, here at age seventeen, New Years Eve, his mind was filled with meaningless memories. Not only that, but these things filled his head so stiffly that he couldn't concentrate on the kira case at all.
The clock ticked on, or would have, if it wasn't digital. But every moment pounded in his head like a steady beat on a drum. Somewhere in his mind, the albino knew the exact time, knew that he must have looked crazy, playing with a rubix cube over and over with his feet and solving and resolving the same white puzzle, all the while staring off in a completely different direction with his owl-like eyes. He knew all those things, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered right now.
The rubix cube hit the floor in the wrong angle, chipped at a corner, and plopped itself down with a dull thud. Puzzle pieces ran through the frail, delicate hands of Near, hitting the floor like rain. Many geniuses went insane- was he next?
Even bad thoughts went with the flow of his mind. Every memory with Mello in it- every punch, kick, slap, hit, berating, bruise, cut, and whatever else- played in perfect order in his mind at a forwarding speed of exactly 55.8 times. They were perfectly organized and sped up so that the order would finish exactly at midnight from when they started.
And as midnight struck down in his head, the final thought ended, and a realization occurred; through his whole life, Mello had been the closest person near had ever had to a friend. Normally the partially-albinic boy wouldn't care, but these past few hours had been anything but normal for him.
Closest thing to a friend... And what did that say about him?
Near stood up, a tiny arch in his back as he shuffled along the floor. Now, he would go to bed, and when he woke up later that morning, everything would be back to normal. Everything.