(I don't say this often enough, but THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed/fav'd this. Really, whenever I get a notice, it just brightens my day by thiiiiiiiiiis much [stretches arms out]. Okay, I'll stop acting like an idiot. But yeah, I really do appreciate it!)

(Warning: There's more violence in this one as well, but this will be the last of that kind, I swear!)

Disclaimer: Who does Death Note belong to? Not me!

Risk

The newly orphaned five year old had known that the finite resources of their home would not last him and the newborn for long, so he started venturing into the unfamiliar outside as a seemingly innocent little boy, trailing behind others in order to look like he was part of a group or family while constantly studying the world around him, searching for options.

He studied several candidates before finally settling on the old lady, who lived alone as a reclusive researcher, possessing access to several resources and the latest technologies while holding no close relationships that could get in the way. She was cold and selfish and would certainly not care for some random orphans, but she was observant as well. She had quickly noticed how gifted the boy truly was and had thus provided him shelter, secrecy, and pitifully minimal payment in exchange for his gift, his unnatural intellect, in forwarding her own goals. But in reality, he had planned for this to happen, had actually been the one doing the real manipulation, coaxing her into forking over more resources and connections under her name in order to facilitate those get-rich-quick schemes. It was at that point that the boy discovered the power of anonymity.

The first false identity he secured was the woman's, and others soon followed. He started giving anonymous advice and leaking information to shady figures behind her back, taking advantage of his stash of alter egos, followed by more risky feats, bribing, blackmailing, and swindling powerful people, authorities and criminals alike, starting underground wars, making alliances with one identity, breaking them with another, and of course, profiting from it all. Outdoors, he'd pretend to be an innocent kid while secretly observing and acquiring more information. Indoors, he'd pretend to work for his benefactress while secretly studying and plotting his next move. Eventually he was able to make money, dirty money, without her.

He had only made one mistake. Despite working sleepless days and nights in the house, he hardly ever set foot in its basement, where a safely stowed, but lonely, needy, and likewise dangerously brilliant toddler had grown increasingly resentful over time. By the time the old lady started to suspect the boy of dubious activities, started questioning him about the true origins behind those mysterious mails and packets marked "unknown source," it had already been too late.

They were vengeful and unforgiving, and he had no choice but to give up everything.

…

Even while she had been dying attempting that bring that piece of shit into this world, his mother could only think of the baby's safety, making him promise that he'd do everything to keep the newborn alive if she couldn't make it herself.

"I promised." He jerked Nate up by the arm and hissed, "But there are other means of garbage disposal!" He would not kill him, but he would leave him, alive and alone, for good.

Only then did Nate finally start to panic. Wrong move.

It wasn't so much that Near had wanted to speak to Mello more as it was that he saw him as a valuable ally, someone whom being on good terms with would be beneficial. Mello's weaknesses were great, but his strengths were far greater, and they filled in the holes of Near's own personality, as much as he hated admitting it. While Near had the patience and focus, Mello had the drive and courage to take risks. Everything one lacked, the other provided, but both of them knew that neither was a team player.

One couldn't help but subordinate those around him, and the other would rather shoot himself than share his spotlight with anyone else.

Ironically, the only traits that they did have in common was precisely what kept them apart, for they were both distrustful, they were both competitive, and they were both extremely childish.

...

The children were so distracting, and Near wished that they could just take their senseless gossip elsewhere and leave him in peace, but they stayed and chattered away anyway, possibly on purpose just to annoy him. Near would not allow them to have the pleasure of affecting him, so he continued working on his sixth Rubik's Cube with his back turned.

"Only fifteen? I can't believe that they couldn't even track down a teenager for so long! The police sure are incompetent." They continued.

"Yeah, I bet L could have solved it in his sleep."

"But the guy was pretty impressive. I mean, he managed to maneuver his way into some of the most powerful and influential criminal organizations in the nation at such a young age."

"There's nothing impressive about a criminal! He murdered people too, didn't he?"

"Chill, I just think he'd make a great research topic. What was his name anyway?"

"The police still haven't been able to figure that out yet."

"Ugh, incompetent!"

But Near knew who the criminal was. He had known for years, had discovered the identity behind the mystery murderer, thief, and con artist before the police could even narrow down on a specific area. To be fair, however, the boy did have a significant advantage over the police in solving this particular case, but he had never informed anyone of his findings.

"Did you read about the fight that took place when they finally discovered his hideout? It was brutal!"

His name was Nicholas River, an ambitious, devious, genius orphan who had once lost everything due to the actions of his younger brother, thus finally giving in to pure crime.

"I'm just glad they finally shot and killed the bastard."

An unfinished Rubik's Cube hit the floor.

…

Mello was nervous, having just received a note from Roger. His improvement rate had slowed significantly, closing in on it's plateau, and although he was so close, he had still not been able to reach Near's level. Surely Roger had noticed. Perhaps even L and Watari knew. What could he do to convince them that he still had a shot?

He knocked once.

"Come in."

And opened the door only to be greeted with the sight of Near sitting on the floor as well, and although it did not please him, that sight provided relief, as it meant that he was not here due to academic inadequacies.

"Near, Mello," Roger began. "Congratulations."

Mello gaped, because both of them, with perception that practically bordered on telepathy at that point, already knew what Roger was about to say. The selection pool had been narrowed down to only two candidates now, and N and M were the last ones still in the running. Somehow, he had managed to make an impression, despite his academic ineptitude, despite all of his failures. He had clearly done something right, but how much of it really had to do with rank? Perhaps worth was not strictly measured by the House's rules after all.

By any means necessary, L had implied. L did not play by the rules all the time, so why should anyone else do so either?

The pressure that now accompanied this new accomplishment crushed against Mello's back with more force than ever, but something inside the blond flickered with life, and although he did not know what, Near noticed those awfully familiar warning signs. Concern clouded the silent, perceptive boy's features.

…

Throughout the following months, Wammy's House saw a change in Mello. He was still the same driven, hardworking boy, but there was something more spirited, more aggressive, more malicious about this new version. He had craved success so badly and had been continuously denied it over and over that his obsession practically bordered on mania. He would do anything to surpass Near at that point, to earn L's title.

So he started breaking rules, dodging authority, challenging them, asserting his dominance over the other children via bullying, similar to what they had done to him when he had been the new kid at Wammy's, except Mello pulled it off much better than any of them ever could. A vast majority of the children became intimidated by M, who had already decided that if he could not reach the top of the academic ladder, he could at least wield power in other ways, bribing, blackmailing, and forcing the others to conspire with him, work for him, a strategy that worked well when it came to those detective simulation games involving teams, as he had even defeated Near a few times.

However, that intimidation strategy did him no good when it came to paper exams and individual competition, so he continued to hang at second.

…

"You're getting closer." Another exam's results were revealed.

"Don't remind me." Why? Why was Near, freakishly calm and collected as always, still able to hold such power over him by simply not reacting to him like the others?

Near mused. His rival's attitude and actions were all in the spirit of the competition for now, but it wouldn't take much for him to descend further and further into his impulses. Would he eventually give in to crime as well, desperate to achieve his goals by any means possible and subsequently hunted and gunned down like a dog? As young as fifteen ...

Mello looked down on the few, almost non-existent red marks on his paper, seeing nothing but a single crimson indication of failure. Those problems, he he had known how to solve them, so why wasn't he able to get it right during the actual exam? Mello never attributed mistakes like those to situational causes such as stress and test anxiety but to self-perceived intellectual deficiencies. He grimaced as if in pain.

"I don't understand how L could choose me …" He murmured to himself at an almost inaudible voice, but it was audible to Near. The dejected runner-up shoved a boy who just happened to be standing too close aside in order to vent his frustration.

Mello was heading down the road to certain self-destruction at this rate, Near continued thinking, and neither of them were completely faultless. Could he possibly do anything about it? By appeasing him with the acknowledgment, respect, and praise that he had craved all those years? Had that happened three years ago, they could have possibly even been friends, but Mello held such a biased opinion of him now, and the rate of success was no more than 8%.

"You weren't chosen as a candidate for no reason. Your personality traits make you a formidable opponent in this race." He could try.

Mello looked taken back. "What do you mean?" His tone was no longer as hostile.

"Your passion and willingness to act. They are great strengths, ones that few of us possess." And ones that I certainly don't possess, he silently admitted.

Hadn't Mello always taken risks? Unlike Near, he did not always take the least dangerous route, but courageously traveled every path without faltering. He would take risks, make mistakes, learn from those mistakes, and grow stronger. Often, unpredictability and chance actually worked in his favor. It was one of the attributes Near admired most about Mello, that daring courage. If he could succeed in reaching out to him, the results would be worth it. Perhaps Near could fix what he had caused. Perhaps he could prevent a tragic future. Perhaps it would alleviate those pesky side-effects of solitude, or what most people termed loneliness, as well.

More and more children gathered around the pair. Everyone, even newcomers, knew of M and N's rivalry and were intrigued that for the first time, the two seemed to be reaching some sort of understanding. But there were doubts, and silent bets started going around the huddle.

"You're up to something." Mello accused, but the edge was softening.

All or nothing, but perhaps it was time to be courageous as well.

"I know from observation just how capable you are of doing things for yourself."

"Hmph." Still distrusting. "You never once noticed me as anything more than a threat to society."

Near hardly ever looked at anyone even when speaking directly to them, but at that moment, he looked at Mello, although his expression remained empty. "I've noticed you since the very beginning." And to prove his point, "I even know the reason why you're at Wammy's, something that I'm certain no other student had been aware of."

Mello took a step back. "W-what do you mean?" He had a feeling that Near wasn't referring to the succession.

"You didn't come to this orphanage via invitation, but rather, you invited yourself." He stated bluntly.

The children were all eyes and ears now. They turned to Mello for his reaction, but his face, for once, held no emotions whatsoever.

"In actuality, the staff did not admit you in the traditional manner. You did it all on your own. You convinced them. You were the only one out of all of us who had, by your own initiative, brought yourself into this institution." Near continued monotonously. "You're here because of that will." Although he tried to force some praise into his tone, his voice continued to remain flat. Near was too used to relying solely on words to do the convincing for him.

Low whispers spread across the huddle.

"You knew." Mello murmured.

"The more I observed you, the more sense it made, and I eventually figured it out. Yes, Mello, I had known this entire time." Near watched him analytically. Was this working? "That's why you deserve the recognition you receive." Hinting at the succession now, "That's why you are where you are now." That forced tone of sincerity left a foreign, undesirable aftertaste.

Mello simply gawked. He had never told anyone, had kept it to himself the entire three years he had been here, but Near, whom he thought had never taken him seriously, had in fact actually known about his secret, the secret that no one else knew, this entire time. It was impressive.

"Near …"

And it was disgusting! His secret, that he had tried to suppress and forget, that he had been a Wammy's House reject, that he had initially been denied admission because he had failed the diagnostic tests, that he had to stoop so low as to practically beg the staff to let him in, to be the exception, Near had known, had exposed him, and now the entire fucking House knew.

God, those horrible whispers!

"... special case ..."

"... no wonder he ..."

"... that even allowed?"

They all knew that Mello, whom they had finally started to respect, had actually been labeled a failure, a pity-case from the start. The reputation he had worked so hard to build was down the drain now.

"... actually declined ..."

"... wasn't good enough?"

It had been, Mello's face darkened, not praise at all, but the worst humiliation!

"Near." He repeated, tone now taking on a complete 180.

Wrong move, Near thought at once. Too late. Too much damage had already been done to their ever deteriorating relationship for Mello to take anything Near said as reassuring. Most of the children were actually whispering positive things about Mello, and any other person would have certainly heard those praises, but not that insecure boy, who could only hear the most offensive portions.

"... rejected ..."

Near scolded himself. He should have known better. He attempted to remedy the situation, face deadpan, "Mell -" But the air was suddenly knocked out of him as pain shot through his abdomen. The spectators gasped.

Wrong move. Worst move. All because he had dared to care!

…

Matt jammed at the buttons of his hand-held game, but he was running out of time. "Come on … Come on …" The screen was dimming. "Shit, no." It slightly flickered. "Come on!" And went out. "Damn," he cursed. Why now of all times? He let out a breath, fixed his goggles, and headed out the door, defeated.

The path to the storage room was blocked by a mass of children. Matt sighed. All he wanted was some stupid batteries! What could possibly be so interesting that had almost the entire population of Wammy's at their toes?

He cut through the clump to see the unimaginable sight of the two potential successors struggling, exchanging blows, and flailing wildly like animals. He almost let out a laugh before he realized that the scene was indeed real. Matt rolled his eyes. Mello had never talked to him once in over two years except when he had needed something, and Near, he couldn't less about Near. Heh. They probably both deserved it anyway. The other onlookers were smirking, giggling, amused beyond reason. Fights like these did not happen often here, and for it to be between the top two students? This was a hoot, a priceless show! Their faces gleamed with twisted curiosity.

Mello had grown more and more aggressive over time, but Matt never expected him to reach this level of violence, or any level of violence for that matter, so soon. The children looked on, some laughing, some revising bets, some cheering them on. Matt scratched his head, unsure of what to do. This wasn't his fight, and it wasn't his responsibility, and it was amusing, so why did he feel so uncomfortable?

Mello had now managed to force Near to the ground, gaining the upper hand, and was punching him repeatedly, obviously not even thinking clearly anymore. Suddenly, the scene was not so funny anymore. The smiles dropped as the intensity of the situation dawned on them, and Matt's eyes widened as something finally propelled him to move.

"Fuck!" He lurched at the pair, grabbing the blond, trying to pull him away.

Their faces were now grave, but most continued to remain frozen, watching. A few started running to inform someone, but none of them tried to help Matt.

"Shit!" What was wrong with everybody? "I should NOT have to deal with this!" He got in front of Mello and punched the boy hard in the jaw.

Mello blinked, suddenly recalling a vague promise he had made to himself three years ago after losing his temper to N upon hitting the midpoint of the rankings. If only promises had been so easy to remember, to keep.

"Stop it, Mello!" Another punch. "Just look at yourself!" Matt screamed.

Just look at- Immediately, Mello's hold went limp as he allowed Matt to pull him off Near, but he could not tear his gaze away from that body.

Mello was trembling now, holding back tears, but they were no longer just heated tears of anger, but frozen ones of fear. That mutilated body before him, it certainly no longer belonged to Near. Yet he recognized it.

The staff rushed in and seized the terror-stricken child, as one man picked up the injured Near, who could now only move his eyeballs, and they shifted furiously from face to face. All those faces, he wanted them gone!

By taking a risk, he had damaged their relationship beyond repair now, and there was no longer anything he could do for Mello, for them. He would never dare to try again either, because this, Near gritted his blood-stained teeth, none of this was worth it anymore. Mello. Those eyeballs found the trembling blond under his damp, pale, jagged strands. Had it not been for you, I would have never- He noticed himself trembling as well, uncovering something that was not quite fury, not quite fear, and not quite grief either.

What had started out as an innocent game of tug and war had over the years evolved into a self-destructive dynamite. No, he had to revert back to the way he had been before Mello came along and ruined everything. He had to revert back, even more, and then some. He could not take another chance.

From now on, in anything he did, Near would always analyze every outcome of an event in absolute objectivity first until he was certain that he had eliminated as much if not all chance of error as possible. Until he had reached such a level of certainty, he would never make a move. And he would never allow others' affairs to cloud his own judgments again unless they directly related to the game at hand. Let them drive themselves into a future of destruction, for their problems were theirs alone, not his to care for, to interfere with anymore.

As the man carried Near to the infirmary, the child willingly crawled back into his shell.

(It seems that the story's getting a little darker, but I don't know. Did I go overboard this time? This chapter doesn't seem to come out quite as nicely as I intended it too. The transitions weren't really all that smooth and some parts felt way too rushed. In any case, please let me know if anything doesn't sit well.

And just to clarify the time line, at this point of the story, it's Spring 2003, N's 11 and both M's are 13, so we're reaching the end.

6/27/11 Update: I revised a large chunk of this chapter. In particular, I decreased the amount of violence as I realized just how over-the-top and unnecessary it really was. It would have also been way too ooc for Mello. I hope this change was for the better.)