Chapter 5: "Justice and Vengeance"
Classes the next day were agony. Near's injured rib continued to throb mercilessly and the quizzes and tests weren't nearly interesting enough to distract him from the pain.
Today the subject was influential figures of the 20th century, a subject which Near liked. He found it more engaging than maths or science which could be solved in the blink of an eye, probably because, he speculated, there was no one correct answer. No formula that determined an individual or group's behaviour.
History was very subjective, very complicated. Intricate to a dizzying degree. Like a huge, three dimensional jigsaw puzzle of a billion pieces, all different shapes and sizes. Fitting together in a different way depending on which angle you viewed it from. History was often different depending on who's side of the story was told. Because people weren't like maths and science, they were unpredictable, unreliable, and all of them completely different; and that is what made them so interesting for Near.
Unfortunately because of this interest he had learnt the answers to all of the questions at least two years ago, through his own private reading.
He powered through all the questions on inventors and scientists and peace fighters and Nobel prize winners, until he reached his favourite topic. Dictators.
"Lenin was a real dictator, people followed him not out of fear, but with pleasure," he wrote on the man who with his political party the Bolsheviks had essentially orchestrated the Russian revolution.
Lenin was the kind of man Near felt he could respect. He had risen from relative unimportance to be the most revered and influential man in the country, through his ability to so completely capture the hopes and demands of the nation, and twist them to fit his own vision. He intrigued Near; By the end it was impossible to tell whether Lenin still truly did have the country's interests at heart, or if all his actions were to satisfy his own wishes and desires. So Near wrote twice the required amount and depth, and still finished before anyone else had.
Near looked down at his completed test, then back up at the clock. Only fifteen minutes of the two hours allowed had passed. After about five minutes bored and in pain, impatiently twirling a strand of white hair around his finger, -wishing he had a pack of cards or something- he decided he may as well check over his answers.
He read the test over twice. It was correct, of course. He inwardly sighed. The physical action would have caused his chest too much pain. Looking up at the clock he found that five more minutes had passed, then glanced around the room at the other children taking the test. Most of them were still writing, which was fair enough, as only 25 minutes had passed. Everyone would start finishing at about thirty to forty minutes in.
He glanced over his shoulder, but quickly looked back down at his paper. Mello had finished, too, and was swinging back in his seat, eyes roaming the room as he gnawed on a chocolate bar. He had smirked at Near when their eyes met. As if he knew something that Near did not. Of course, it didn't take too long for Near to find out.
The door slammed open, and eleven heads turned to look it's way.
Into the room strode Roger, face like a thundercloud. Near knew who he had come for. Knew before Roger even said a word. You didn't have to be a genius.
"Alias: Near." Roger dead-panned. Near struggled to his feet and stood beside his desk, his face set and resigned. With all that had happened in the last week, Near knew, deep down, that Roger could have come for no one else. What he didn't know yet, was why.
"Sir." he responded.
"You have been accused of theft of facility property,"
"..."
...Theft?!
At first there was shock and outrage. Then hate. Nothing but pure, seething hate for the old man.
As Near stood, frozen, a whisper went around the room. A malicious whisper. What, Near? The House's golden boy? The perpetual Number One who never does anything wrong? Steal? When he can get anything he wants just by clicking his fingers? What, did he get so big-headed and self-important that he thought he could get away with it? Who does he think he is?
Who does he think he is??
Near felt ten pairs of eyes on his back. Ten condemning pairs of eyes. He turned his own to look into Roger's, with a look in them that said you will pay for this.
"I have been provided sufficient proof to support this claim, so you are asked to accompany me back to-"
"I didn't steal it, sir." Near said, his voice low and full of venom. He hated Roger. "You gave it to me yourself." Roger who left him bleeding in the hallway. Roger who brings gifts, then accuses the theft of them. Who betrays and humiliates. Roger the hypocrite. At that moment, with every fibre of his being, Near truly hated Roger.
"We can discuss said evidence whilst we discuss your punishment. To my office. Now." Roger's voice was cold an uncompromising.
Still, as he watched the boy there was something about the burning look in the child's dark eyes, that deeply disturbed Roger.
xXx
The door slammed shut behind him and Near was left alone in Roger's sparse office. Left alone to wait. Near didn't move, but glared straight ahead, seeing nothing. He was so sick of waiting.
"What is the point of calling me here if you don't even have the time to come and punish me?" He demanded of the empty room, voice shaking in fury. His fists were clenched and shaking. Impatience. He began to search the room with his eyes, not entirely sure what he was looking for. There were quite a few pictures of old fashioned cars around the place, the most common one a shiny little red one, the front of which looked like some sort of bottom-dwelling fish. Roger's favourite car. Near's eyes ended up landing on a heavy black stapler, sitting on a shelf.
"..."
A hand hesitantly went to his hair.
Behind the heavy desk, in rows upon rows, stood the glass cases that housed Roger's dead insect collection. Near slowly shuffled towards the shelves, carefully picking the stapler up and turning it over in his hands; weighing it, a barely formed idea dancing around his mind.
"Roger? Are you there?" Suddenly a familiar, electric voice coursed through the room, interrupting Near's thoughts.
"!?" Near froze. He didn't even notice as his anger drained quickly away, replaced by a faint, numb shock.
He stood stock-still, his eyes flicking in the direction the sound had come from, searching. Then slowly- hesitantly; "...L?"
There! A little white mac-book with a big black L on the screen, sitting on a table by the window.
Ha!
Near couldn't help it.
A timid smile rose, quivering, to his lips. He felt like he might laugh. After all of that...
"Near?" the computer spoke, its tone a little perplexed. "What is Near doing in Roger's office?" the confusion in the computer's voice made him want to laugh all the more. How absurd was the situation he found himself in. He comes to Roger's office to face a punishment, and instead he finds L. Did the cosmos have a sense of humour after all? He had been so certain... "...Why does Near have a stapler?"
Near looked down at the stapler still in his hand, with a quiet "...Oh." He set the stapler on the desk carefully, then clasped his hands behind his back. He looked up innocently. "Just looking~"
"... I... see..."
He couldn't hold it in any more. A barely stifled snicker escaped his lips and he quickly covered his mouth, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. It was the only thing that made sense.
"Is... something the matter?" the computer asked him slowly. He had never heard a computer sound confused before, he had never even considered it possible. It was surreal, it was odd. It was fricking hilarious.
For Near, it was just too much.
The floodgates burst open and he sank to the floor, laughter finally finding a voice. He didn't even care about the pain that shot through with every breath as he clutched his sides, he was too lost to the absurdity."Yes!" he choked through the gasps and hiccups, tears of hysteria forming at the corners of his eyes.
Yes a lot was the matter. So much was the matter it made Near want to scream. He didn't scream.
He laughed instead. It was the only thing that made sense.
"Yes..." he gasped, quieter now, his shoulders still shaking uncontrollably. His vision blurred as more tears filled up his eyes and his gasps became sobs. So much was the matter.
Soon he wasn't even laughing any more, but was on his hands and knees, eyes screwed shut and teeth gritted, sobbing like the world had died. The world he knew had died. He sobbed and sobbed and beat his fists into the ground in rage and pain and frustration. So much was wrong. It was all wrong. It made no sense! Nothing made sense!!
The discreet camera above the bookshelf just looked on, in mute awe, until the sobs slowly died down. The boy just sat silently then, looking at his white knees with deadened eyes.
"No." He said quietly, his white fringe falling to hide his eyes from view. "Nothing is the matter." He already regretted his outburst in front of L. It had made him seem weak. He wasn't weak. He would work this out on his own. All notion he had before of getting L to speak on behalf of him was gone now. He wasn't going to run to L, no matter how much the frightened child inside him wanted too. What would be gained from running to L anyway? Certainly not L's respect.
And L's respect was too rare and too precious to discard so easily.
"...Near? Are- you alright?" the computer sounded kind of concerned. An impressive feat, for a machine.
"Of course." The boy looked up, his eyes clear now. There was no trace of pain or anger any more. All that could be seen in them now was a shy cheerfulness. The change was so drastic it was disturbing. "I just thought it was a little funny I ran into you here, because the laptop you gave me got broken on the way back from the hospital and I had been wondering how I was going to be able to contact you again. That's the reason I'm in Roger's office, too, if you wanted to know. I'm waiting for him to come and punish me for breaking the computer."
It scared Near a little, how naturally the lies came. How they felt like the truth. For a very brief moment he wondered if that was how Lenin felt, as he promised freedom and peace to the masses. The thought was unimportant though, so he shrugged it off.
He tried a smile then; a sweet, almost honest smile.
"...I see...." L didn't sound convinced, but he let the matter drop, for which Near was grateful. Then L sighed. "In that case I will try to fix this problem as soon as I can. I will warn you that it may take a while, because at the moment the Kira case is quite busy and I am currently heavily occupied with trying to stay alive, so-"
"Your- life is in danger?" It had been like a slap in the face.
With one, quiet sentence L had managed to suck all the importance out of all of the past week's events, rendering them meaningless. Petty, even.
Near's throat closed over with shame. Then he felt a sinking in his stomach. A despair the equal of which he had never felt. Not when Mello had turned on him, not when Roger had abandoned him, not when Matt had ignored his plea for help. He didn't fully understand why he felt this way, but he did know that if L was gone too...
"They want me to show my face on live international television." the computer eventually explained.
"That's stupid." Near blurted out, finding his voice again.
As a code of procedure the Wammy's orphans weren't given details to the cases L was working on, but Near had managed to piece together a vague picture from snatches of conversations he'd overheard and, of course, what he'd seen on the news. Something he did know was that Kira needed a face in order to kill.
"I mean- That would just be offering yourself to Kira. It would accomplish nothing. It definitely wouldn't stop the killings." He looked up at the computer, his eyes wide and serious, his voice grave. "Don't do that." he ordered.
"I have no intention of appearing on television. Or dying, either, any time soon." L replied. Near sat back on his heels again, relaxing slightly. "So you don't need to worry so much." there was something like amusement in it's tone, and Near frowned, a little pink rising to his cheeks.
L had a point... Why did he care if L died or not? He wasn't sure. He didn't know L well, it wasn't like they were close. Near only knew him as a letter on a computer screen, and a disembodied voice that sounded like electricity. Hell, he'd only had one proper conversation with L his entire life. So what in God's name had L done to matter so much?
Then it dawned.
He is all I have now.
The realisation hit hard, and it brought tears to his eyes, which just stayed there, unshed. He was still too proud to let them go.
"I don't want you to die." Near said, quietly. Earnestly.
Mello, who had always been his friend, now hated him. Matt who had always cared and looked out for him didn't give a shit any more. All the kids in the orphanage who had once looked up to him, now believed he was a liar and a thief. All the adults in his life, who were supposed to support him, keep him safe, look after him... They all saw him only as a nuisance. A burden.
Except L.
L, who treated him like an equal. L, who didn't have to talk to him but did. Who didn't have to have anything to do with him, but wanted to. Who didn't have to be kind to him, but was. L, who was the last person left. And even if he was nothing but a picture on a computer screen, Near would not give him up.
"...you know, you might be the only one." L eventually remarked, quietly, not realising he was echoing Near own thoughts.
There was a long, solemn silence.
"Then catch him for me." Near commanded quietly, his eyes hardening, looking up- directly into the camera above the shelves. There was a short silence, and then;
"Oh, I will do so much more than that." L assured him darkly. "I will break him. I will find him and expose him. I will tear him to shreds and then humiliate him until he begs for mercy like the cowardly animal he is. Then I will make him watch as I cut out his heart, and I will laugh at his horror."
"..."
"...I'm sorry that was probably a little extreme."
Near simply sat dumbstruck, looking at the screen with eyes wide and lips parted in awe.
"No." he said jerking out of it, "No, I understand how you feel." A devilish smile appeared on his lips. He liked this side of L. "You think he deserves that?"
"I don't know if its a question of what he deserves, more what would satisfy me."
"I see." the smile played about Near's lips as L reinforced the theory Near had formulated the first time they had "met". L didn't care about justice. He (like Lenin, Near noted with a smile) did what he did to fulfil his own wishes and satisfy his own whims. Not for anyone else's ideals or views. The position of leadership he held just served that purpose.
"You know, Near, people talk about the difference between justice and vengeance... but in all my experience I have never found it."
"..." Near thought about that long and hard. It made sense...
"And while we're on the subject, I'd also say, if you were quick enough, you would probably be able to put that stapler through every cabinet and maybe even the window in the approximate 20 seconds it will take for Roger to arrive back here."
"..."
"I wish you luck. Goodbye Near."
"Hey-" Click. Near looked for a moment blankly at the black screen. Then down at the stapler sitting innocently on the desk. He could hear footsteps, echoing down the hall.
Slowly, a hand went to his hair and a smile rose to his lips.
~approximately 20 seconds later~
Roger's face changed colour many times after he opened the door and saw the carnage before him. First it went ashen, then violet and finally settled on an angry scarlet. Shards of glass and splinters of wood and dead bugs littered the floor, and in the midst of it all, sitting on Roger's own chair, behind Roger's own desk was Near, twirling a strand of hair between his fingers contentedly, as if waiting for Roger to arrive.
"Can I help you?" the boy dead-panned, pushing off the desk with his foot so that the chair spun around in a circle, making a 'zoooom' sound under his breath. He seemed to mock Roger, even as he sat in the destruction the man's most precious possessions.
"What is the meaning of this??" Roger managed to choke. Near stopped his spinning to look the old man dead in the eye.
"Pre-emptive Justice."
xXx
L smiled at the little boy's declaration as he continued to watch the screen, but Watari's lips tightened in disapproval.
"Well, it certainly appears you are making an impression on him." he muttered.
"Yes, overall the plan is going quite well." L replied, popping a cherry into his mouth. Watari shot him a dirty look.
"Roger had spent his whole life acquiring those." Watari said, as he looked at the wreckage on the screen.
"What a pathetic hobby." L remarked, taking secret delight at the expression on Watari's face. The conversation had been made all the more amusing by having Watari standing there, watching but unable to speak.
"Roger did nothing to deserve this." the old man continued, voice shaking.
"Of course he did. He accused Near of a crime that Near did not commit."
"At your orders!"
"Oh, yes, I forgot." It took a lot of effort not to smirk. He picked another plump red cherry from the bowl.
"Well are you happy yet?" Watari demanded angrily through gritted teeth. "Is he sufficiently twisted enough to suit you? From his outburst earlier we've established that the boy is nearing mental breakdown and the very fabric of his sanity is fragile." L sat in patient silence, but Watari was nowhere near finished. "He's lapped up the morally questionable ideas you've planted in his head, and now he has shown he is quite prepared to lash out physically as well. So my question remains are you finished playing with your toy, or is there some other way in which you can warp him?"
"Please calm yourself, Watari, you are beginning to sound like Yagami-san, and anger doesn't suit you like it suits him."
"...You really are nothing more than a selfish child." Watari murmured, and L's face turned stony; but he did not accept it or deny it. "You won't be happy until he breaks, will you. Until he snaps under the pressure loses his mind completely and becomes some rabid animal that hisses and spits whenever someone draws too near. Or else just becomes a heartless, soulless shell without any feeling at all-"
"I would prefer-" L began sharply, his voice raised to cut off Watari's rant. "If you were to stop referring to Near as if he were weak." he turned to look the old man in the eye and spoke slowly and clearly, so as not to be misunderstood. "Near is not weak. And he is not stupid, either. In fact, there is a 20% chance that he is every bit as capable of solving this mystery as I am."
"Then why in God's name are you torturing the child like this?" Watari asked weakly.
L was silent, chewing moodily on the end of a cherry stalk. "He is still missing... important things. Things he won't be able to survive as L without."
"Like a violent hate and distrust for mankind in general?" Watari's voice was bitter.
"..."
Watari sighed, regretting his words already. "L..." he began.
"No, its perfectly alright Watari. You're completely correct, as usual." he turned up the volume on the monitor that displayed Roger and the boy. Near had been wrenched from the seat and now stood in front of the desk, arms folded as he was delivered his punishment. They both watched in silence, as Roger proceeded to drag him from the room.
"He'll never be able to do that, L. Not in his condition." the old man said, on the punishment that Roger had just given Near.
"I know. That's exactly why I decided on that particular one." L selected another cherry. "It forces him to work out another method of completing it. Work out another method or kill himself attempting to do it alone."
"And if he does kill himself?" Watari demanded. L shrugged.
"Then he is obviously not smart enough to become the next L." Watari opened his mouth to reply but nothing came to mind. The harshness of L's words had shocked him.
"I wouldn't get too concerned this early on into the operation Watari." L continued, turning in his seat, fixing Watari with a fathomless stare and the ghost of a smile. "The worst is still yet to come."
Watari's shoulders fell in resignation and dejection.
"When will you be satisfied, L?"
"He will be ready when he has nothing to lose."
Watari thought of the conversation with Near, of the way the boy had looked so reverently into the camera, devotion so clear. Watari had been watching L then; he had thought he'd seen a flash of something in the young man's eyes. Some unidentifiable emotion when Near had ordered L to catch Kira, but for him. Now, however, in the face of L's usual cold exterior, Watari questioned his memory. Perhaps he had only been seeing what he wanted to see, but still, the fact remained.
"...He still has you." Watari said, quietly.
"And we will take that from him too, when the time is right."
_________________
A/N: ...Okay...I apologise... L is being a complete b*tch at the end of this chapter... poor Watari.... My excuse is that L being a bitch is waaaaaay too much fun to write. He's so good at it, too! ^^ And I DID warn you that everyone would be reaching their full evil potential in this story. Or at least close to. Even Near! *giggles* (but I shan't spoil that, there is more to come)
But honestly, I did want to slap him at points...and then I wanted to slap Watari for being mean to him. Did you want to slap L? Maybe Watari? Or Near, even? Let me know! ;)
You ask me "Why 20%?" I say "Its just the first percentage I thought of. And whenever L states a percentage he generally makes it up anyway OR SO I HEARD... Nah, its true. Its Word of God. Obha says so!! Apparently whenever L says a percentage he is generally totally sure of what he is saying. Just lacks evidence to back it up. So...yeah. I'll be going now, but first, a big shout out to all who reviewed the last chapter! You guys are made of awesome. Hope this one lived up to expectations.
Anywho, stay tuned! After all, L says: "The worst is still yet to come" and as we all know, L is never wrong ^^.
Adios! ~CANDY