A/N: Ugh, yet another late chapter that sucks. I'm sorry… I had no ideas for this prompt either. I also don't know if I'll be getting today's (technically yesterday's) fic uploaded, so that will just put me another day behind. Sigh… anyway, hope you like this one. It kind of explores Near's past, but just a little bit.

Disclaimer: I'm not Tsugumi Ohba. Sorry. (Although, that'd be pretty cool.)

X

Tinsel

Near hated tinsel and everything to do with it.

He hated every type of tinsel: pine, ribbon, and especially the type that almost sparkled when the light hit it right.

It annoyed him, to say the least. It was everywhere in Wammy's during Christmas. It decorated the rails, the doorways, even the borders of the chalkboards in the classroom. He could not stand it!

There was no reason that Near hated tinsel. He just disliked it. It wasn't his taste whatsoever. The ribbon-tinsel on the tree looked nice, but everywhere else was slightly ridiculous, and made the house look a bit too festive (although, some of the other children begged to differ; if anything, they thought the house need more decorations).

In total, Wammy's House had 236 long strands of tinsel strewn up. Near had counted, and the realization of how much tinsel was really in the house dawned on him-and annoyed him very much.

So Near hated tinsel. That was that. No, there had to be more. It can't just end there! There had to be at least one reason Near hated tinsel, and he would search to find it. He would not take no reason to hate tinsel. He kept telling himself there had to be. If his hatred was irrational, then that would be absurd. Other children had rational reasons to hate things, or fear things. For example, Matt hated snakes ever since they had gone on a school field trip and a snake began to slither up his pants. His reaction was quite funny, but in all seriousness; he hated snakes for that reason. So what was Near's for hating tinsel?

Near sighed as he curled himself into a ball onto his bed, a puzzle in front of him, trying to think back before he had come to Wammy's. He never actually celebrated Christmas, come to think of it. His old family-the one that had left him on the streets- didn't have a Christmas tree, nor dinner. Nothing. They simply treated it as a normal day. Perhaps they didn't celebrate anything.

He thought of his old family and their old lifestyles. Did they believe in anything? Maybe not… they could have been atheists, or… No, it didn't matter. That was beside the point. Tinsel, tinsel, tinsel.

The albino had stopped trying to complete his puzzle. He was too lost in unimportant thoughts. Roots… he had to think roots. When had he first seen tinsel?

Maybe he had seen it when he was a toddler... no, he had seen tinsel later. But it was still before Wammy's. It had to be.

He was five when he first came to Wammy's, so he had to have been around that age or four when he first saw tinsel. But where?, was the question. It had not been in his home-why would he had decorations in his home? He didn't remember there being any- nor a store; his family never took him outside the house. Odd, but it didn't matter now.

So he had to have seen it at Wammy's then.

But why did he hate tinsel? Did he happen to have had an experience with tinsel that he had long forgotten about? Had the memory been washes away with newer, fresher, more important ones? He needed to know why he hated tinsel. That was another reason why he was often compared o L; he needed to know everything, whether it be just a random fact or something extremely important, like who a murderer was in a case. He had to think of this like a case; what had caused this?

Frustrated, the white-haired boy began to twirl his hair around his index finger.

Tinsel...tinsel…why was this even important to him? Was he really that bored, that he had created this entire 'case' for himself to solve? Was he honestly deeply pondering why he hated tinsel-a seasonal thing-so much? He could have been doing something more productive, such as homework...but he had already finished it.

Damn it.

Maybe looking at tinsel would help him figure out the reason for his undying hatred for it. Near stood up, momentarily going blind from sitting in the same position for so long. Recovering from his head rush, he opened the door to the hall and began to walk down to the end, taking a seat in the middle of the floor. A strand of silvery tinsel hung askew on the side of a small table, that served for no other purpose than home decor.

Back to thinking about tinsel…

He must have seen when he first came to Wammy's. With that much figured out, how old had he been?

Five, at least, if not four. It was first year of celebrating a holiday, Christmas, and he didn't quite understand what it was, but everyone else seemed excited.

But there was no tinsel in that memory. There was something missing.

Near mentally went over what ways it annoyed him. How it was everywhere, how everyone thought there wasn't enough, how itchy it felt…

Oh.

How did he get that memory? How did he know what tinsel felt like? Surely he had to have been in some situation where he had felt tinsel across his face, and his hands, and his arms…

Wait. He was feeling that now!

Matt and Mello were wrapping him in long strands of tinsel, having started with his torso and had just began to wrap it around his arms when Near noticed what they were doing.

How the hell had he forgotten about this? It was one of those things they did yearly to him, on this day, without his consent whatsoever. He didn't enjoy it, but now he remembered.

This was how the three had properly met all those years ago.

Nate River-Near, he was Near now- was only five years old. He was a quiet little boy, who always minded his own business, never got in anyone's way, and never did anything remotely annoying. He was just there, and didn't often socialize with the other children. He found no need to though.

At the time, he had been focusing on a rather difficult puzzle. He occasionally glanced up at the wall, or at the door, to give his eyes a rest from staring at the small pieces, and to come back into reality a bit.

He had seen the blonde and the redhead a few times before. In class, during dinner, and in the corridors. They were at least a year older than he was, and from what he'd heard had come there at about the same time he had. He hadn't paid any attention to that little fact, but he still found it interesting how the two had become friends almost instantly, whereas he didn't have...well, any. But he didn't mind being alone.

It was on one fateful day-December seventh-that the little white-haired boy was cornered in the rec room by the two older boys, and wrapped in tinsel. It could have been considered bullying, but he was too young to realize it, and by the end of it he hadn't really cared.

Well, maybe a bit.

He laid limp as they wrapped him up loosely in the tinsel, mummifying him until he looked like a small, glittery ball of...something. It was very irritating, the feeling of the little bristles on his skin, and even more irritating that the two were toppled over laughing while he, with every move he made, caused him to itch.

He didn't show his agitation as he was dragged along with the two other boys to Roger Ruvie's office, who was also annoyed and angry-as usual.

Sitting in the chair wasn't a pleasant experience, as Near was still wrapped in the tinsel. He attempted to stay as still as possible, but even that wasn't helping.

Near had been asked if he was hurt, to which he replied with no. He said he didn't really care, and that in the event he had been injured while doing it, he would have most likely stated it already. All he needed was an apology, and for the tinsel to be removed from him.

The blonde boy-whose name was Mello- apologized first, with a slight roll of his eyes. The second boy, whom Near assumed was Matt, also apologized.

They thankfully had unwrapped Near, as their punishment, and also introduced themselves to him. That was the day they had met.

From that, they had made it a yearly ritual. Near didn't hate Matt or Mello-they were as close to him as brothers, in his mind, and he found it very considerate that they actually remembered the date of which that occurred, and made sure they did it every year. It made it more special. But he still hated tinsel, no matter what.

No, hate was an understatement.

Near loathed tinsel.