Now the room fell very quite. Very, very quite as the only two left stared intently at one another. Near stood calmly, his eyes never faulting, his stance firm and unswayed by the waves of hatred that were coming off the older boy. Mello felt his hands clench and unclench at his sides.

"I can tell that you're angry."

"How observant of you."

Near started to head for the exit, "I'm late for class."

Mello grabbed him before he could reach the door, "Uh uh. Where do you think you're going?"

"To-"

His socked feet had no traction on the tiled floor and could do nothing to keep him from being dragged across the room. He was thrown onto the floor by the fridge and Mello pressed his foot down on Near's chest to hold him firmly down.

"Let's see…"

Mello began to rummage through the contents of the fridge. He pulled out various items, setting them down the nearby counter. Soon there was a mix of syrups, sauces, condiments, all pilled up on the marble.

The boy slammed the door shut and Near tried to use the side of the cabinet as leverage to push away, but Mello grabbed his shirt and pulled him onto his feet.

"What should we make you into? Huh?" Grabbing the ketchup off the counter, Mello smirked widely. "Well, you already seem to think your some sort of hot dog, so why don't we go with that?"

Near was staring at the ketchup as if the stuff was acid. The red was penetrating his brain, creeping into his subconscious. He fought desperately with the sudden emotion that filled him.

"Please, don't," The voice was strained and weak. He moved his hands suddenly to cover his face.

But it was too late. The contents of the bottle were pouring down over his head, his chest. The red was dripping down over him, coating him. It was dripping. Dripping like blood.

Mello felt Near begin to shake beneath his grip and it took a moment to take it in. Near was afraid. He was actually scared… Mello looked down at the condiment in his hands.

"What the hell, Near. It's just ketchup!"

He moved his trembling hands from his face and stared down at them. Red. Nothing but red. Pain shot through his chest as a sob ripped from him.

Mello let go then. What was going on?! This wasn't like Near at all. He wasn't just afraid. He was terrified now. Mello was sure that he was going to scream in a second.

"Chill out, just go upstairs and change!"

But Near couldn't hear him. His mind was somewhere else. Lost in a memory that he'd long since blocked from his mind. The red on his hands wasn't ketchup anymore. It really was blood.