A/N: Okay, first a great big 'Thank you!' to everyone who read, reviewed, favorite-ed, or alerted this story. I appreciate the support to continue something that just started out as a random writing exercise!

That said, I'm amazed at just how big it's gotten. Originally it was only meant to be three pages long, and we're up to sixteen. I'm thinking we're going to end up being three parts long all together, plus an epilogue… but this piece has already stretched itself beyond all expectation, so who knows? We may end up being a ten parter… we should know by the next installment. Which, frankly, will be a little slower to hit the 'net, because some of us are still slogging through finals – and from the perspective of the instructors, no less. (Anyone ever tells you the teachers have it easier, they're lying.)

So the challenge is to try and stay as in character as possible while creating a little 'tension' between Mello and Near. See if it seems like this could actually happen in the original storyline. Probably not, but it's fun to try!

Thanks again, everybody! Let me know your thoughts!

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In the Library

Part Two, "Why?"

Raven Ehtar

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It was a brighter day today than it had been for the past week at Wammy's. The sky was clear, and while the air held the promise of a winter not far from the door, it was still warm enough to justify wearing the lightest of jackets. It was also a fairly peaceful day within the orphanage. That could have been due to the occupants' natural tendencies to be quiet and reflective, or to some sense of the laidback that came with the season… but mostly it was due to the fact that the majority of the children were gone. It was a 'field day', when all of the orphans were allowed to go into town – the younger ones under the watchful eyes of caregivers – to shop, visit the local theater, or whatever it was that tickled their fancy.

It wasn't a requirement that every child join in on the outing, however, and several had opted to stay at the orphanage. Only a few, because the weather wouldn't remain so fine for long, and the youngsters knew it. It was best to get in as much playtime as possible while the weather was still cooperative.

Near was one of those that stayed, which wasn't too surprising. He rarely left the building to even play in the courtyard; it was only once in a blue moon when he would venture into town with the others. It was even less likely for him to do so because the weather was so clear. His genetics would have him burn to a crisp in the harsh sunlight. By personal preference and common sense, Near spent a good portion of his time indoors.

Another boy who had decided to stay this time around was Mello. This was more unusual, as Mello was the kind of person who would hit every shop in town – most notably the sweet shops – spending his pocket money like it was burning a hole in his wallet. He was even known to sneak out some nights and actually bicycle the five miles into town to troll the nighttime streets. He didn't do it often, because the nighttime streets of Winchester weren't usually exciting enough to justify the trouble. It was more the thrill of rule breaking that Mello wanted.

And today he had not gone with the rest into town. A legitimate opportunity to visit every sweet shop, video store and record store to stock up on his vices, and he passed it up. Matt, his closest friend and gamer extraordinaire, had made a show of checking him for a fever before the blonde had threatened to pummel him. Matt had grinned and said that if Mello could still menace decently he couldn't be too sick, and had tripped off with the others, planning out his attack on the local arcades.

Mello watched them all go distractedly. He would have liked to go, his candy supply was running dangerously low, and everyone would suffer if he couldn't get his chocolate fix. But he had a reason for wanting to stay at Wammy's, and more specifically, when almost everyone else was gone.

It had been two weeks since Mello had found Near's little hiding place in the library. Two weeks, and he was still confused by it all. Why he had froze up. Why, or rather, how, he had fallen asleep with Near in the room. Near's attitude as he had played with his toys… Mello had known the kid for years, which amounted to a good portion of both of their lives, and he had never seen what could be called a real expression on his face. It was always blank, like a porcelain doll's. But that day in the library, when he had thought no one was watching, Mello was almost sure he had seen the albino smile softly once or twice.

Near, smiling. Like a normal kid with feelings and cares and likes, not like a cold, calculating little bastard; which was the face Mello had come to know. The concept of a feeling Near was… unsettling.

Even more unsettling had been what met Mello's eyes as he opened them after his nap. Near was gone – which was something of a relief – most of the toys were gone, and right by his head was Near's favorite red and white robot.

Mello had stared at it for some time before he sat up and took it in his hand. He had tried to reason out what had happened after he fell asleep, and while the 'what' seemed obvious, the 'why' made no sense.

Clearly, after falling asleep Near had discovered him somehow, perhaps Mello had made some sound alerting him to an intruder. He had found Mello hiding at the back of the library and realized that he had been watched for some time. Deciding to leave Mello to sleep as his safest option, he had quietly gathered his toys and left the library.

All except for his favorite. Which he left with Mello. Left in such a way that Mello would know that Near had found him, and had deduced all.

Why would he do that? That question had been driving Mello up the wall the past two weeks. Why hadn't Near just left, and let Mello believe that his spying had gone unnoticed? Why announce to him that he knew he had been watched, and yet not confront him about it? For how small Near was, and for how much Mello would bully him, he wasn't a coward. He would have confronted Mello face to face had he wanted to. So why hadn't he?

Why did he leave his most prized toy in the hands of his enemy? Was it some kind of challenge, or goad? It couldn't be some sort of friendly gesture. Mello hated Near, and Near knew it. What was more, the albino bordered on the neurotic when it came to his toys. There was no way that he would just leave one with Mello without good reason. It had to be a challenge of some kind. But what was it?

Mello had wracked his brain to aching in the library before he realized that it had grown dark outside, and he had missed dinner hour. He'd wandered back to his room, still halfway in a doze, and only realized once he was sitting on the edge of his bed that he was still holding onto Near's robot. He didn't want to keep it, but it was late, and he was still tired after his brief nap. He'd put the toy on his bedside table and had fallen asleep again almost immediately.

The next morning he had awoken to the same problem of why the robot had been left with him, and the fun new conundrum of how to return it. He couldn't keep it – he wouldn't keep it – but the idea of handing it back to Near in person left a bad taste in his mouth. So did the thought of sneaking into the boy's room and leaving it for him to find. Deliberately leave evidence that Mello had been in Near's room? No, thank you. It was more than enough being caught at spying once.

Without changing into a fresh set of clothes, Mello had grabbed up the robot and made a beeline for the library. If returning it directly wasn't an option, then he'd leave it where Near would find it, and pretend like he had never taken it. It'd been a mistake, anyway. Why did Near even need to know about it?

Mello had made it to the library a little after 7am and slightly out of breath, only to discover that the few remaining toys of the night before had been removed, and the city of books was neatly put away on the shelves. Near had already been back and cleared his mess. It was another of his little quirks to clean up after himself rather than let someone else do it. He would have noticed the absence of a certain red and white with a plastic dome.

And so Mello had remained in his state of confusion for two whole days, both over his little rival's motives and on how to return said rival's precious plaything, before he noticed something rather startling.

He was being followed.

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Near sat on the floor of one of the first floor game rooms, one knee brought up close to his chest, the other tucked carefully underneath him, building a tower out of poker cards. The first three attempts he had made had failed abysmally, but the fourth seemed to be when Near got a good feel for the cards. How they wanted to stack, that degree of pressure in the fingertips while settling the cards that gave them stability without setting them tumbling to earth, the angle of the floor… there was a lot to take into consideration when making card towers. The fact that this was his fourth try, and not his second, was a reflection of his state of mind.

This wasn't one of his favorite game rooms. He usually avoided it because of how popular, and therefore crowded it normally was. It boasted several televisions, each with their own game consol and dozens of games, a miniature pool table, an air hockey table, a ping-pong table… At any one time this room held dozens of orphans, all clamoring for the games or each other's attention. All of which Near found to be something of a stimulus overload. While he was capable of taking in a lot of information all at once, twenty or more adolescents jabbering at each other hardly counted as 'information', per se.

But he'd been learning to tolerate it, to find the quietest seat available and tune out most of what went on around him. He had to, if he were to carry out his venture.

After leaving the sleeping Mello in the library two weeks ago, Near had considered this new situation carefully. The first question of why Mello had come to the library had been simple enough to answer: He had been looking for Near. Mello wasn't likely to go searching through obscure libraries for anything else. The 'why' of Mello's search was a little more ambiguous, but every answer followed a common theme: To confront Near over some slight. What that slight might have been, and whether or not it had all just been in Mello's mind was moot at this point.

To Mello, it would have been obvious by the toys and the book utopia that he had found Near's 'playroom', and so he had stayed to wait for him.

And from there, things became muddled to the young albino. When he had returned to the library from his brief foray for more toys, he had known almost immediately that Mello was there, in hiding. And as Near gave no indication that he knew Mello was there, Mello had continued to hide. Presumably, watching Near as he played.

The question was why? Why had Mello watched him? Near didn't think that it had been planned, because if it were, Mello would have picked a better hiding place than behind a stack of books. He probably would have also refrained from eating his signature, and aromatic, chocolate in a closed space. If it weren't planned, then it had to have been spontaneous; perhaps even an opportunity stumbled on by accident. It was also possible, though not very likely, that Mello had never intended to confront Near in the first place, and had just found the library while Near was out. Deciding to observe the city of literature, he had lingered too long and was still present when Near came back. If that was the case, then why had Mello felt the need to hide? Could it be embarrassment from admiring his 'enemy's' creation? That seemed probable. Mello seemed to find a kind of pleasure in fashioning the two of them to be mortal enemies, despite Near's own passivity. To show an interest in said mortal enemy, if even only through his hobbies, would be unacceptable.

But even with that scenario, Mello hiding was not logical. It would have been much more in Mello's style to bluster and pretend he had meant to confront Near when he returned. Mello could be a fairly good actor when he had a mind to. But he had stayed put. For over two hours, as Near played with his toys in silence. Near knew, or thought he knew, Mello well. He didn't do low stimulation and silence.

The ace of diamonds was leaned against a three of the same suit.

In the end, Near probably would have written the whole incident off as one of those random oddities that popped up once in awhile in a house full of children and the prepubescent. Mello in particular was not the most logical person around, despite his intelligence. Near couldn't be expected to follow every one of the boy's thought processes. He could only imagine what would happen to his own brain if he tried.

But then Mello had taken his robot. His red and white robot he had had with him since his very first day at Wammy's, and which he had left to watch over Mello as he slept. When Near had awoken the next day at dawn, as was his habit, and gone to the library to clean up the remnants of his game, he had discovered that not only was the chocoholic blonde missing, but so was his favorite toy.

At the time he had done nothing but sigh resignedly and finish re-shelving the books. Whatever Mello's motive might have been the day before in observing him, he now had a good lever for Near. He could hold that particular toy over Near's head like bait, and he knew it. Undoubtedly an unexpected gift for Mello, provided by Near himself.

Mello must have been ecstatic when he woke and saw his new piece of blackmail staring at him.

Near had finished in the library and headed to one of the second floor shower rooms to clean up before the rest of the orphanage woke up, wondering when Mello would decide to 'offer' Near's robot back, and what he would want for it.

The day progressed as they normally did on a weekend: slowly and without much direction. Near had seen Mello at breakfast and had waited patiently for the crowing to begin at any time. But breakfast had passed, as had the morning of play and study, lunch, afternoon activities, and finally dinner, and Mello hadn't said one word to Near. In fact, the blonde almost seemed to be avoiding him. He would avert his gaze whenever the younger boy hove into view, and left any room Near also happened to be in as soon as he could.

What was he thinking? Did he think that by holding Near's robot as hostage and refusing to speak to him, he would make Near come to him to ask for it back? … He was almost right. It was his favorite, after all. But Near could hold out. It was just a matter of patience, and he had plenty of that.

The next day Near had followed Mello a little, watching for any hint that he was ready to extort him with the toy. Again, the day passed with no sign. As had the next, and the next.

Near was willing to admit, privately, to being somewhat frustrated by the fifth day, and still with no return of the red and white in view. Why was Mello holding onto it? Where was the gain in keeping Near's toys? Was it some half-baked conception of torture? It was embarrassing to think that it was actually working a little.

Near paused in his building as he thought back to that day, about eight days ago now, five days after the library. It was the day Near noticed something peculiar in Mello's behavior, which only seemed to be becoming more erratic every day.

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Mello started on the third floor this time in his search for Near. He hadn't gone hunting for the boy since the day he had found him in the library, but then, he hadn't needed to. The colorless freak had been following around almost constantly since that day. It was creepy the way he would watch from his corners. Whenever Mello 'happened' to look away from whatever he was doing to check where Near was, he would always be off to one side, playing or reading. And as soon as Mello looked away again, he could feel those wide, empty eyes staring at him. Even creepier was on the third day, when he started showing up in rooms before Mello got there.

Mello could guess why Near was following him. He wanted his toy back, but didn't want to ask for it face to face. That seemed strange to Mello. It's not like Near was shy. He wasn't terribly forthright, but if he wanted something then he should have no trouble asking for it. Was he just being cautious because it was his favorite toy, and it was Mello who had it? Did he think that Mello would damage it if he approached him so directly? That seemed possible, but if it were so, then why hadn't he tried to sneak into Mello's room and steal it back?

Mello hesitated slightly when he came to the library in the west wing. This was where all the trouble had started. What were the odds that Near would be in this room again, now that Mello was searching for him?

He opened the door quietly, and almost sighed with relief when he saw all the books on their shelves, and no boy in white pajamas sitting in the middle of the floor.

Mello stood in the doorway to the library, leaning against the frame, as he thought about the last few days.

Near's constant but silent presence had been eating at him, that and the stupid plastic toy that now stood on his bedside table. He wanted to give it back, to get rid of the damn thing, but couldn't stomach any scenario involving a return. He wanted to yell at Near, to shake the shit out of him and tell him to just leave him alone. He wanted to hit the little freak for bothering him for two weeks straight by just being there.

He never did, though. He could never seem to get up the gumption to tell Near off, which had never been a problem before. Whenever he saw the younger boy, off in his corner and playing his games, but sneaking looks at Mello's back, the blonde's skin started to heat up and crawl, and his gut would cramp painfully. It was so irritating. How easy would it be to walk over to him and just pick a fight? As easy as breathing, at least before. Now, though, something prevented him. That same feeling of being nailed to the floor that had kept him still in the library kept him still now, made him keep his seat and let the boy watch him.

When Mello had tried to sort out the whys of his inaction before, he had put it down to a kind of subconscious fascination with the role reversal. After all, he was usually the one following Near, although not as literally as Near was following him, and it was interesting to be an object of interest to Near, the boy without emotion or desire. It was almost a source of pride for the continually outdone blonde.

The center of Mello's universe was orbiting him for once.

That had been only five days after the library. It was now thirteen, and any fascination, subconscious or otherwise, should have worn off by now. But he was still immobile to Near. Or had been.

Almost every other orphan was out of Wammy's on the field day, and the few who remained besides Near and himself were laying low due to the tension that had built up over the weeks. Without dozens of eyes and ears around, Mello finally felt like he could move again, like the absence of witnesses made a confrontation easier. Which only added to his bubbling, and now freed irritation. He wouldn't question it though; there had been enough of that. Now that he could, he would act.

Mello slammed the door to the library behind him and continued his search. It was time to confront the source of his frustration.

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The ace of spades was leaned against the three of clubs, followed by the five of hearts and the two of diamonds.

Near paused in his stacking to look over the growing tower. It was about thirty A-frames across and two layers deep now, and he was working on the fifth level. Fairly small by his standards, but coming along nicely. At least he was still on his fourth attempt, and hadn't made any more slips to send it all crashing down. He picked up another pair of cards and began lining them up.

Mello's behavior had become more and more erratic over the past few days, in a subtle sort of way. Well, subtle for Mello. The older boy knew he was being followed, of that Near was positive. He could hardly fail to notice it, since Near felt no reason to be circumspect. It obviously upset the boy that his hated rival was watching him, and yet he did nothing to correct it. Not a word, not a move, hardly even anything in the way of a cross look. That in itself was enough to label his behavior as 'erratic'.

Then, by about the fifth day, things escalated slightly. Mello began avoiding his favorite haunts. Not excessively, but noticeably. Then, about the ninth day, whenever Near was in the same room as Mello, the blonde would leave the room before finishing whatever activity he was engaged in.

Near had been so shocked the first time he saw it happen he had almost dropped the puzzle he had balanced on one knee. Anyone who knew Mello would tell you that the fiery boy did not back down, from anything. For him to retreat from a fight would be like if he suddenly decided to give up chocolate, or if Near dyed his hair green. It just wouldn't happen.

But it had. And from everything Near could discern, he had been the cause of this aberration. Of all the people to make Mello withdraw, Near was probably the least likely candidate.

Such an extreme deviation by Mello had made Near begin to question his own actions. For as oddly as Mello was acting, wasn't he behaving just as out of character? It wasn't like himself to follow people around, observing them. It wasn't even like him to show an interest in other people. So Mello had been a little strange in keeping his robot, the easiest way to solve all the mystery would be to just ask for it back. Then, even if Near didn't receive his toy, he would have a good idea by Mello's response what was going on in his chocolate addled head.

By now, though, the return of his robot was almost a secondary consideration. Watching Mello had somehow become the end in and of itself. Near was interested in Mello's daily activities. What they were, how he enjoyed them, who he enjoyed them with… Watching a life that was so different from his own, and yet so close to his, wrapped up in the same strings of fate… It made Near much more introspective than he would have thought possible.

Near wondered, if by a slight change in his past, would he be more like Mello now? With friends and interactions making up the majority of his day? Near held no illusions that he could have been comparable to Mello in intensity, but if he had been in the habit of displaying emotion all his life, so they weren't so muted now, then what? Would he still be the top student? Would it have mattered to him? With an opponent that reacted to his jibes and baiting, would Mello have hated him as much as he did now, or would they have been friends?

The Jack of spades met the three of hearts as the first pair on the sixth level.

Such considerations were useless, really. It didn't matter what might have been, since all he could act on was what was.

It didn't stop him from thinking about it, though.

The Jack of clubs was coming toward the ace of hearts when the door was flung open and in walked Mello, a familiar look of determination set across his angular features.

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Near managed not to flinch at Mello's dramatic entrance. He had been around the blonde enough years to have plenty of practice not reacting to him. So instead of jumping at the bang made by the door as it hit the wall behind it, he looked up briefly, and then returned to his cards. Mello scowled fiercely at the younger boy's coolness. Would it kill him to act human for once?

Mello stalked into the deserted game room and stopped in front of Near, on the opposite side of his growing card monument. "Of course you'd be on the ground floor," he spat.

"Mello," Near said by way of greeting, without looking up again.

The older boy's frown deepened. Near hadn't taken the bait and asked what he had meant. He never did, and it was as annoying as ever… but somehow reassuring in the familiarity. He glared at the top of Near's bowed head as the boy continued to work with his cards, hoping the sheer intensity of it would make him look up. The ploy failed, however, as Near ignored Mello completely.

Finally, Mello leaned over the cards, careful to avoid knocking any down, and growled at the albino, "Why are you following me around, you little twit?"

Still, the younger orphan did not look up as he spoke, "I believe that I was here before Mello. I could say that Mello is following me."

"You know what I mean," Mello snapped. "Why is it that you're everywhere that I am? You've never even been in some of these rooms before, and now you're there all the time. Don't you have anything better to do than stalk me?"

Near's hands never paused or faltered over the cards as the second depth was started on the sixth level. After so many days of Mello behaving peculiar, it was almost reassuring to have the blonde giving him an earful again. In his usual monotone he replied, "Mello can see that I am in the process of constructing a card tower. It is what I would prefer to be doing."

Mello straightened again and watched for a minute as Near steadily built. The boy's hands were ivory pale, as was the rest of him, his fingers long and slender. Every A-frame they set up were exactly the same size and distance apart. There was no sign of unsteadiness in any of those already standing, or in Near's hands as they hovered and leaned the next pair against each other delicately. That was Near's character all the way through. Calm, measured, never concerned he would upset the balance of things because he knew his hands were steady.

Well, let's see if I can throw him off a little, Mello thought.

"Why make things that are so easy to break?" Mello asked, hoping the change in subject and tone would do the trick. "How many hours of work do you put into these things, and they can be destroyed in a second? You'll have nothing to show for it in the end."

Mello was pleased as Near hesitated halfway through his speech, and even more when he put his cards down and began twirling his hair thoughtfully. Mello waited as the other boy worked out his response, knowing how careful he was about everything he said. Finally, a low murmur came from the hunched figure.

"That's why."

The blonde frowned anew and tilted his head in puzzlement. Such a broad statement was unlike Near, but there was more to come.

"Many aspects of life are like that," Near kept his gaze down, kept twirling his hair loosely. "You could spend years at a task, perfecting every detail to your satisfaction, only to have it all swept away by a stray word or incautious action. It's all very fragile, and that's what makes it worthwhile." Near paused again, then said even lower than before, "We're the same way."

Near finally looked up, locking his dark eyes with the icy blues of a dumbfounded Mello. "The entire reason we are here, most of us, anyway, is because we may prove useful to our custodians sometimes in the future. That's all. Countless events could take place between now and that future to render us unneeded or superfluous. We would amount to nothing more than any other orphans with no place in the world."

Mello had recovered a little while Near had been speaking, and managed to sneer a little as he replied, "Garrulous today, aren't you? Are you saying that if we weren't so intelligent, Roger and the rest would throw us out because we weren't useful anymore?"

Near's eyes didn't turn away or blink. "No. We never would have been brought here if we hadn't proved exceptional in some way or other. Nor do I think that we would be turned out if our situation changed significantly. But our futures, what we had worked for most of our lives, would no longer be so clear for us."

Mello smirked. He faced that probability every time Near pulled out in front of him on scores. It was nothing new to him. "Whatever," he said, "it's not like we need Wammy's to lay out our futures for us. We'll still be smart, no matter what happens. We can make our own way in the world."

"For those of us with the desire to, that is certainly an option."

Mello blinked at the albino, "You mean you don't have that desire?"

Near finally looked away, eyes averted to one of the poster-covered walls of the game room. "Yes."

Mello marveled at the rare insight he'd just received. Was that why Near worked to stay on top? Because he knew that if a path wasn't handed to him ready-made he would have no drive to forge one for himself, and therefore have no place? An interesting thought, for later. Now was the time for his original purpose in coming.

He reached over the cards and grabbed Near's shoulder, twisting him around until those wide, empty eyes were back on his. With as much force as he could manage without actually yelling in the boy's face, he grated out, "Why are you following me?"

Near didn't flinch, either from Mello's rough touch or from his tone, but simply stared back. "Why does Mello care?"

It was Mello's turn to pause. Why did he care? Why couldn't he just ignore his unwanted, pale shadow, or tell him to get lost? Why had this gone on for so long?

He shook himself mentally. Now was not the time to be sidetracked. "Just answer the question, Near!" He gave the shoulder in his grip a quick shake. "Is this some kind of revenge or something?"

Near seemed to focus in on Mello a little more, to lean forward into Mello's hand the merest fraction. "Revenge for what, exactly?"

"For whe- For anything!" Mello had caught himself before he had mentioned the library. There was no real reason not to mention it, they were both perfectly aware of it, but Mello couldn't quite bring himself to admit to it out loud.

Near seemed to want to hear him say it, though, and sat back again almost imperceptibly when Mello failed to do so. "It's not revenge, Mello."

The blonde let go of the white clothed shoulder with a small shove. "What is it, then?"

Near's hand, which had fallen by his side when he had been grabbed, returned to his hair. "I thought it would be prudent to observe Mello."

"Observe me," Mello rolled the words off his tongue distastefully. "So I'm a display specimen now. Why?"

Near shrugged and looked back at his card tower, as though he was losing interest in the conversation. "There are many things about Mello that I do not fully understand. Since we are not on the best of speaking terms, the most viable course of action seemed to be to watch, without approaching Mello. And then to draw conclusions based on those observations."

Mello managed, with a little difficulty, to not show any of the bewilderment he felt. He covered with a head toss. "Tch. And what have you come up with so far?"

"That is my own business."

"Dammit, Near!"

"Do you still have my robot?"

Mello choked back another shout at the sudden change of subject. He was asking for his robot directly? After two weeks of letting Mello hold onto it? And did Near just say 'you'?

Mello ground his teeth together in frustration. "Yes."

The younger boy looked up at his rival, the intensity of his agate eyes, such as it was, dying down. "Does Mello intend to return it?"

Mello's own eyes seemed to burn with an icy flame as he stared at the albino before him with renewed dislike. "Gladly," he bit the word off sharply. "The creepy little thing reminds me of you. I'll be glad to have it gone!"

To anyone who was unfamiliar with Near, they would not have noticed any change in his expression. But Mello had known him for years, and had learned to interpret the tiniest of signs as full expressions. A change in his breathing pattern, the rate of his pulse, which could easily be seen at his throat, a shift of body weight, even the dilation or contraction of his oversized pupils gave clues to those who knew how to read them. What Mello saw in response to his careless jibe was a grimace, almost a flinch.

Stunned, he turned away from the boy quickly and stalked back out the door to hide his own expression. "I'll get it right now," he tossed back over his shoulder, and made his way to his room.

-------

Near watched as Mello left the game room to retrieve the stray toy, at last. Now things could return to normal. Near would have his favorite robot, Mello would return to his normal demeanor, and all the confusion of the last couple of weeks would be forgotten.

But Near felt uncomfortable as he began to stack cards once again. While talking to Mello about his views on what made something worthwhile, he had had a tiny insight. Miniscule, really, not a full thought and barely a feeling, but it was impossible to ignore now that Near's attention had been brought to it. The more he considered it, the more ludicrous it seemed, and yet it fit very well. This… interest he had had in Mello the past weeks could be more than simple interest… Mello's parting shot about Near's 'creepy' appearance had stung more than it should, as well, offering more evidence to a newfound theory.

The albino's hands began to shake as the force of his realization took hold. He still couldn't quite bring himself to think it out fully, as though putting it into words, even in the privacy of his own mind, would make it more real. The awareness of it was there, though, and that was enough.

A five of spades, trembling slightly in Near's fingers, came down with too much force, and Near's tower collapsed. Near surveyed the wreckage without expression. What was it he had just said to Mello? 'It's very fragile, and that's what makes it worthwhile.'

Gathering the fallen cards, Near prepared to start again.