Near watched as a drop of black ink fell slowly down onto the knee of his perfect white pants. It descended in slow motion, like the air had thickened around it. It landed silently, forming a perfect circular splotch.
A spot of black in a world of white. Like L, changing the world everyday. Like Mello, always with a fresh way to keep the attention on him. Like B, so passionate about his cause.
He glanced at the clock. He was early. Plenty of time to change before class.
He changed his mind at the last second, leaving his room, not caring how many eyes were drawn to the small but still noticeable stain on his always pristine outfit.
For once, he wanted to stand out.
For once, he wanted to be the ink blot.