Disclaimer: I do not own the story of Death Note or any of its characters. If I did, all of them would have lived happily ever after in a world without death, hatred, sorrow, or Kira.

Linda was glad to find someone she knew in the classroom.

"Good morning, Matt and Mello!" She went over to the boys, greeting them with a big smile.

"Morning," Matt replied, while Mello briefly looked up from his book and glanced at her before returning to his book.

"Frankly, I didn't expect to see you here," Linda said with curiosity, taking a seat right next to them. "I don't think Japanese Literature is a requisite for you guys – is it?"

"No, certainly not," Mello was still fully absorbed in his book, so Matt decided to explain the matter on his own responsibility, "But Mello insists on taking it; he said it was for the sake of L. You heard about the Kira case that L has been working on recently? Well, since the suspect is very likely Japanese, Mello has suggested that it would probably be a good idea to start getting ourselves exposed to Japanese culture, so that we might be able to fathom what is on that murderer's mind. That could be of great help to L someday, isn't it? Mello said it was his own way of looking up to L, so that he can 'stay close' to L even if not physically by his side – ouch!"

"You have been quite wordy this morning, Matt," Mello remarked as he drew back his hand.

"Oh, come on!" Matt retorted, reaching up to rub the spot in his head just struck by Mello's book. "There's nothing to be shy about – everyone here knows your loyalty to L!"

But Mello was already back in his book. Matt threw an angry glare at him before turning back to the girl. "What about you, Linda? What brought you to this class?"

"Well, I was told that Japanese novels are known for their splendid scenic descriptions, so I'm hoping to get some inspiration from them for my drawings."

"Oh, is that so?" Mello interrupted, and it was obvious that he had been keeping an ear on the two's conversation all along. "It's a pity that I've got nothing to say about your art inspiration, Linda, but I'm sure Matt and I will not be here to no avail. Look at this, Matt. This is a collection of the life stories of modern Japanese writers, and you know what? Each of them would serve as an excellent case study for Abnormal Psychology – if you remember what we were taught in that class. What's more, a number of them died by suicide, all by distinct means even! You see, this one here died of drug overdose, this one gassed himself, another drowned together with his mistress, and this one – he committed seppuku, literally slicing his belly open – now that's what I call a tough guy!" He showed Matt the book he had been reading, his cheeks flushed with excitement.

Linda grew paler inch by inch at what she had heard. "Stop it, Mello! That's spooky...now I'm not so sure if I should take this class or not - I need to think about it..."

Mello looked at her with a cheerful grin on his face. The next second, however, something seemed to catch his eye and the grin vanished. Confused by his expression, Matt turned around to follow his gaze.

For a split second, Matt thought he had seen a ball of poplar fluff flying into the classroom. No one knew what was on L's mind when he asked Watari to plant a full circle of black poplar trees along the school boundaries; the only thing they knew was that since then each Spring would find the entire school flooded with that white, snow-like stuff. They flew everywhere and could easily stick to anything, so the boys had to be extremely careful so as not to choke on them when playing on the field. Once Matt got choked on a very tiny fluff ball, and for a moment he really thought he was going to meet his end then and there: despite all his efforts, he couldn't even cough it out.

But Matt soon realized he had made a mistake: clearly it was still too early in the year for poplar fluff. It was Near, along with his white, fluff-like hair, roaming into the classroom like a pale spirit. His mere existence seemed to have brought to the room a sullen mood.

"Hey Near! What the heck are you doing here?" Mello called out before Matt could make a comment, "Don't tell me you are into Literature all of a sudden!"

"I assumed it might be interesting," Near said quietly, almost in a whisper, without even raising his head to look at Mello - more of talking to himself rather than answering the question. He walked straight to the front row and sat down next to the wall.

As expected, Mello was irritated at his casual reply. "I don't buy that...you just don't want to see me get the first place in any class you are not in! I knew you would take every opportunity to mess with – "

His accusation was cut off abruptly by the ringing of the school bell. Casting another vehement look at Near, he reluctantly retreated to his own seat.

Matt yawned for the 137th time as he struggled to make some sense out of the lecture. He never expected literature classes to be as tedious as history: for the past hour he had been painfully listening to the endless blathering of chronological events in literature, all about who wrote what in which year that later on became a representative of a certain literary genre – what could they possibly gain from all these? To pass the exams, he would just need to borrow Linda's notes after class and copy them; her notes had always been the most decent in the school.

He turned to glance at Mello, who seemed to be paying full attention to the lecture but still had a trace of anger lingering on his face. Matt sighed. It was all because of Near, he and his nonchalant attitude. Did he have to put on such a stony face all the time?

Matt noticed that Near had become more silent these days. It was true that he'd never been a talkative person even on his best days, but back then he was at least able to have normal conversations with people, however brief they might be. Starting from the past winter, however, he seemed to have lost his perceptual ability altogether. He was no longer responding to other students' greetings and even made every effort to avoid eye contact with anyone. The situation was particularly dire with Mello, who seemed to have become completely invisible to Near. Whatever Mello said, be it a venomous curse or an acid remark, could arouse no reaction in Near whatsoever: he would just walk away without a word, as if he hadn't seen or heard anything. Matt had found it quite inscrutable that someone as clever as Near should fail to realize that his coldness was exactly what annoyed Mello the most.

One day, after Matt witnessed another tantrum from Mello after a disastrous encounter with Near, a very bold hypothesis occurred to him.

"Do you think Near could be in love?"

"Love" was a word scarcely heard or used within Wammy's House. After all, it was a place to nurture geniuses instead of Casanovas. But human emotions could never be easily stamped out by anything or anyone in this world, and every kid, if they wanted, had a thousand ways to learn about love. Matt remembered the shiny sparkles in the eyes of Miss Eleanor, the music teacher, when she talked about her fiancé and their upcoming wedding; he had also seen Linda hide behind a tree for the whole morning just to watch their handsome new art teacher paint the sky in the playground, but later when she ran into him in the corridor she was so nervous that she couldn't even utter a single word. Among all the kids in the school, Matt only knew three that were absolutely immune to love: himself, Mello, and Near. Mello had more important things to do, he himself was more than content with his PlayStation, and Near – he was straight-up deprived of all emotions, if he had ever owned any at all.

"This is the worst joke I've heard from you, Matt." Mello sneered at his speculation. "Who is he going to date? That silly Teddy bear in the playroom?"

Matt had to agree. The change in Near's behavior did remind him of Linda's manner towards her teacher, but still it was very hard to imagine Near being in love with anyone – any living creatures, to be precise. He seemed more interested in non-living things, such as his toys and cards.

Finally they were at the end of the class, with the teacher making an announcement that was of the most concern to them.

"The final project of this course is to write a review of a self-selected Japanese novel published between 1900 and 1980. You can form a team with a maximum of 2 people."

Matt and Mello teamed up in no time. Incredible as it might seem, it was the first time they got a chance to work together on a project. Seldom had there been a class that permitted teamwork in the past, as individualism was favored over collaboration in Wammy's House. They had no idea why they were cut a break this time; maybe it was because the course was not a requisite, or it could be that the teacher, who started her job only a few weeks ago, was unaware of this etiquette. Whatever the reason was, it was just the ticket.

"We'll see if the second and the third together could beat the first," Mello almost spat out these words between his teeth.

"You must not bank on me!" Matt protested at once, "You are well aware that I'm not good at writing, and I don't want to get strangled by you if we didn't win the first place in the end."

"Rest assured I won't be doing that to you," Mello shrugged, "but to your PlayStation. Now let's get down to work!" He laid down a book on the table, not giving Matt any time to wail over the possible ill fate of his beloved companion. "This is the book we are using."

The book had a plain design with its title "Patriotism" printed in bold font on the yellowish cover. Matt turned a page and started to read the summary.

A young Japanese lieutenant received the order to attack his fellow officers who had participated in a mutiny against the Imperial Army. Stuck between his loyalty to the Emperor and loyalty to his friends, he chose to kill himself by cutting his stomach. His newly wedded wife joined him without hesitation, cutting her own throat.

The plot was simple, thought Matt, and indeed it was the type of story that would appeal to Mello; as a rule, anything that looked good enough to Mello would be equally fine for him. Nevertheless, the book seemed no more than 30 pages, and that meant –

"Mello, you didn't pick this book just because it is short, did you?"

"Of course not! It's because I like the taste of the story!"

"Ah, alright. Anything you say."

They sat down at the table and skimmed through the book, taking turns to underscore their favorite lines with a pencil. Matt liked "she felt not the slightest surprise that a man who had been a complete stranger until a few months ago should now have become the sun about which her whole world revolved", while Mello preferred "on looking into each other's eyes and discovering there an honorable death, they had felt themselves safe once more behind steel walls which none could destroy, encased in an impenetrable armor of Beauty and Truth"[1]. They also determined how to divide the workload between them: Matt would write his part from the wife's perspective and Mello from the husband's.

But soon they came across the part which made both of them a little uneasy. The couple made love for the last time before ending their lives, and the sex scene, for some unknown reason, was depicted in great detail. Despite his extensive experience in video game love scenes, Matt still couldn't help blushing at that part of the book. The same held true for Mello, as he peered at those lines back and forth before saying in a slightly unnatural tone:

"Could people really get their hearts set on making love when they are about to die?"

"How could I have known? It's not like I have been close to death." Matt said, "But I imagine they did it so that they could die in each other's arms and have no regret. Who knows? Or maybe it was just an act to work themselves up to the coming death."

"You seem to know a lot about it, Matt. "Mello lowered his voice, "Have you done it with someone before?"

"I am as virtuous as you are in this matter. What I just said was learned from others and video games. But all it takes to know about it is to do it once, right?" Suddenly feeling an urge to tease his friend a little, Matt reached out and wrapped his arms around Mello. "Care to have a try with me?"

"Don't be so mushy, you pervert!" Mello snorted, but made no attempt to shake off those arms. Instead, his eyes were filled with amusement. "All right, just be sure to inform me before you die - and I'll do it with you!"

Just then, Matt caught out of the corner of his eye a white figure floating by. Apparently, Mello had also noticed it, for he quickly pulled away from Matt and sat up straight, pretending nothing had happened.

It was Near again. Walking past them with a pile of books in his arms, he seemed totally unaware of their presence, let alone the mischievous act they had just been up to.

Matt pursed his lips. Near seemed to have the talent to catch people in their most embarrassing moments, but after all these years they were getting accustomed to it and would no longer shriek like idiots when he appeared out of nowhere scaring the daylights out of everyone. What truly caught their eyes was the pile of books he was holding: not one, but four of them. Each book had a cover of colorful, garish design, and stacked up they reminded Matt of the flamboyant wedding cakes he had seen in picture books.

The two of them sat in silence, not without astonishment, gazing at Near as he and his books disappeared behind the door. Somehow that scene gave them a feeling that their chance of getting the first place would also vanish like that.

"...Did you see where he came out from?" Asked Mello.

"Between the rows QR and QS." Matt replied swiftly, one finger pointing to the bookshelves behind them and another pressing down the power button on the nearest desktop, while Mello leapt to his feet, took a page of sticky note, and dived into the bookshelves. In less than a minute he managed to locate an obvious gap on one of the bookshelves and deduce the call number he needed from the books right next to the gap. When he returned to the table, he was greeted by a computer with the book search page ready for him.

The searching result turned out to be a little beyond their expectation.

"I can't believe it," Mello grumbled.

"What is it?"

"It is a series of four volumes, written by the same author as our book was. Now I do remember that I have come across the first volume when I was searching among books, but after a few pages into it, I found out it was a love story, and I lost all interest in it."

"Love story? Are you serious?"

"Of course I am. Look here." Mello said, pointing to the computer display, "It says 'the tragic romance of two young Japanese aristocrats that ended with sorrow and departure'. I bet it's one of those old-school love stories again, those that kill my appetite."

He suddenly stopped. An eerie quietness followed; staring into each other's eyes, they immediately realized they had the same thing in mind. After a while, Matt broke the silence hesitantly.

"Do you still remember what I said to you the other day...that Near could be...in love?" No reply came from Mello, so he proceeded. "Back then you could have said it was my illusion. But now that he has taken interest in love stories..."

Even Mello could not think of a good argument against that. "...But that is ridiculous! Don't you think so? How could he possibly be..." He started to pace up and down restlessly between the table and the window. "...I wonder who that pathetic girl is. – Dating him would be worse than seven years of bad luck!"

Matt looked at his friend with deep sympathy. Mello had on his face a mixed expression of frustration, bewilderment and annoyance, and he seemed to be in real anguish. Matt found it hard to fathom why he should be upset over Near's love affair: clearly it had nothing to do with them. Nonetheless, if that was truly troubling him, then Matt would never let him face it alone.

"I could make some inquiries about the girl's identity, if you'd like. It's easy, and I'll be very discreet so that he won't suspect anything. – As long as you promise not to lay a finger on my PlayStation! Deal?"

Much to his disappointment, Mello refused the offer. "No, I'd prefer that you stay out of it. I am going to find out the truth in my own way."

Matt sincerely hoped that "his own way" did not mean going to Near and demanding an answer straight to his face, which could easily turn into a huge mess.

TBC

Notes:

[1] Quote from Patriotism / Yukio Mishima, translated from Japanese by Geoffrey W. Sargent. New York : New Directions Pearl, 2010. Text was slightly modified to avoid confusion.