She bent over her notebook, her pen scratching rapidly across the lined paper. It had been over three weeks since Near had been there. Of course, Wammy's was still buzzing about his presence. Sam didn't think much about him; naturally, she didn't dwell on thoughts of someone she had met only once. She almost hoped he would return after a few days so she could get to know him better, disappointment settling in her chest when he didn't. It was perfectly understandable that he couldn't come back every few days, but she felt lonely and he had very briefly eased that feeling.
During the course of the three weeks, two funerals took place of the former numbers two and three, Mello and Matt. Near attended, Sam did not. She did not know Matt and Mello and felt like it would be encroaching on their grieving "loved ones." The orphans wouldn't stop talking about the way the two had perished. One of the boy's even claimed to have snuck a peek at Mello's body, stating he was "charred like briquette." Most of the orphans had a disturbing interest in death, one of the only things in common amongst the children, so they ate up the boy's words hungrily, trying to find the bodies before they were buried. Unlike the others, Sam was very sensitive about death and had no interest in it whatsoever. It nauseated her to even think of what happened to the poor men and she tended to leave the room the minute the conversation began to turn toward the morbid topic.
There was also a rumor of the girl that came with Near. Apparently, she was related to someone who worked on the Kira case and he or she died, leaving her orphaned. The girl was around three years old and the only time Sam ever saw her was during meals. She always sat alone, her head bent down. It was a sad sight, but Sam didn't dare approach her. There was something off about the girl, who was appropriately named Rue.
There was a chill in the drafty orphanage and she hugged her moth eaten sweater closer to her body as she shivered. The new headmaster insisted that "England winters are not that bad" and had the thermostat turned as low as possible. He had nice, thick clothes while the orphans were given hand-me-downs.
One of the older girls opened her door. "Sam, L's requested to see you in his room. Room L."
She stopped writing and looked up, frowning slightly. "Did he say what he wanted with me?"
The girl shrugged before dancing back into the hallway. Sam closed her notebook and walked to the room. She paused before the door before hesitantly knocking on it.
"Enter."
She opened the door and closed it behind her. Near was sitting on the floor with one knee pulled up to his chest. He was putting together a rather complex looking puzzle and he clicked each piece in quickly.
"You wanted to see me?" She asked, standing before him.
"I wanted to say 'hi.'...Hi." He looked up and offered her a tiny smile before looking back down at his puzzle.
She tucked her hair behind her ear, looking at him oddly. "Erm, hi, Near. So, when did you get back?"
"Just last night. I didn't call you in to talk about me. I'm still a little curious about you. When you leave Wammy's, what do you want to do with your life?"
Sam replied nervously, "W-well, something in writing, like maybe an author or a journalist."
"What kind of genre?"
He really liked digging for more information, she mused as she thought about it. "I'm good at realistic fiction. And fantasy."
"Hmm." She wasn't sure if he was interested in not. Feeling awkward, she sat across from him, his puzzle acting as a buffer zone.
There was an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, the only noise coming from the methodical click of the puzzle pieces. She watched him, impressed by how quick and sure his movements were. It was almost soothing.
"Where will you go when you leave?" He broke the silence momentarily, looking up at her briefly.
"I...I kind of wanted to live in America. Maybe in the western area, like Los Angeles. Or even Japan."
Near tilted his head to the side, hand pausing its mechanical movement. "Japan? What's there?"
She shrugged a shoulder, her cheeks beginning to turn pink. "I like the culture."
"Such simple answers..." He mumbled more to himself than her, but she still heard.
Sam's face flushed more. "I-I'm sorry. I'm not very good at in-depth conversations. I-I'm not very good at talking."
He blinked. "Then that is one thing we have in common."
The warning bell to be in their rooms rang overhead, startling the both of them. Sam got up quickly, not registering he just insulted her, intentional or not.
"O-oh, it's already curfew time! I need to go!" She rushed to the door, but froze when she felt a cool hand grab her wrist.
She turned to look up at Near. He looked back at her. "I won't be back for a while. So, in case you leave before I come back, I want to say goodbye. And good luck with your writing."
She smiled slightly, quickly kissing his cheek. "Thanks, Near. Bye!"
She quickly ran out, leaving a surprised Near behind as the door closed. He touched his pale cheek where her lips seemed to burn an imprint into the flesh.
"Young author, Saxon Leroux, has come up with yet another bestseller, Colorless, a thrilling mystery novel. We have Saxon with us to talk about her inspiration for her latest novel. Everyone, please welcome Miss Leroux!" The talk show host clapped politely as the audience roared with applause.
A petite girl walked onto the stage, purple eyes shining as she smiled shyly. Her light auburn hair was cut mid back, ending in soft ringlets. She was wearing a dark suit and flats as she hopped into the stool beside the host.
"Saxon, just one year ago, you appear at New York's top publishing company with just scattered piles of paper. You have no known educational background, no family; it seems you appeared out of thin air. Yet, here you are, one of the most famous authors of this generation! How does that feel?"
Saxon smoothed out her skirt before replying happily, "It feels great! I'm so grateful to the publishing company for giving me a chance and helping me really jump start my writing career. I owe it all to them for being here and helping me do what I love!"
"Your background is a mystery. Would you care to shed some light on it?" The host leaned forward slightly, her dark eyes glowing with excitement.
"Well, I was raised in an orphanage in France. I never knew my parents; they left me at the doorstep. Then, I was moved to an orphanage in England when I was fourteen. I left the orphanage when I was fifteen and came to America to try beginning my career, but it wasn't easy. Like you said, I went to a publishing company in New York and here I am."
The host's eyes widened sympathetically. "Fourteen? That's awfully young to leave! And how old are you now?"
"I am sixteen."
"Look at this, folks! A sixteen year old bestselling author! This proves you can accomplish your dreams. Now, about your novel. I have read it and absolutely adored it! Tell me, where did your inspiration come from?"
Saxon looked at her folded hands. "An old friend. I haven't seen him in a while and the rest of it just came to me."
"And the title?"
"Well, he's very pale. The whole story is pretty colorless if you ask me." She laughed sheepishly.
The host joined in the laughter. "You may see it as colorless, but critics have all agreed that it is absolutely mesmerizing! Saxon, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule and joining us. After the break, we will talk about the mysterious disappearance of Kira."
"Thank you for having me." She smiled and when the cameras cut to break, she got off the stool.
The host shook hands with her, amiably praising her book once more before Saxon politely excused herself, looking over at where her agent was waiting. She left the studio with her agent, heading down the street.
"Wonderful, absolutely wonderful as usual, Sam."
Sam smiled slightly, removing the wig, revealing rays of bright blonde hair cut chin length. "Thanks. I was so nervous, I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest."
Her publisher, Tanya, a plump woman in her thirties, waved her hand at the very idea. "Nonsense, you were a natural!"
Sam blushed at the compliment and Tanya asked, "How about getting some lunch? I don't know about you, but I'm starving!"
"Lunch would be great." She giggled, getting into the black Town car as her publisher got in the driver's side.
They drove to a nearby cafe and sat down in one of the booths. Sam stirred her hot chocolate carefully before taking a quick sip. Tanya swallowed a huge gulp of coffee.
"I've set up a book signing in one of the nearby book stores for you. Tomorrow from ten to twelve." Tanya said.
Sam frowned. "Tanya, you know I hate-"
"You hate book signing, I know. But, you're famous, Sam! People are going to want your signature!" She waved her hand in annoyance.
Sam sighed and drank her hot chocolate. A grilled cheese sandwich was placed in front of her and she took a bite. She moaned through the gooey cheese, kicking her feet happily. Tanya rolled her eyes and took a bite from her crisp salad.
"You're so simple to please. If you keep eating grilled cheese sandwiches, you're gonna get fat." Tanya pointed out, waving a blue cheese covered piece of lettuce at her.
"Actually, I learned that you don't gain any calories if you burn them by using your brain." She tapped her temple for emphasis, ranting off what the Wammy's kids used to say constantly.
"Hmph, you better not be calling me stupid." Tanya grumbled.
Sam laughed, "No, of course not, Tanya."
The two finished their lunch and got back in the car, returning back to the hotel where they were currently staying. Sam changed into a pair of sweatpants and long sleeved shirt, sitting on her bed. she grabbed her journal and began to scribble in it, writing down any idea that popped into her head.
Before long, Tanya came in with Chinese food, setting a carton of white rice and orange chicken in front of her.
"Thanks, Tan." She said gratefully before digging in.
"No prob. Besides, I was really craving for it." Tanya sat across from her, eating her food.
Sam curled up in her bed, sighing. It was nearly midnight. She wondered if it would be another night of tossing and turning. She had mild insomnia, but sleep was beginning to become more of a luxury than a basic need as the insomnia seemingly worsened. When she was able to sleep, though, she was plagued with nightmares. Still, she would rather have nightmares than no sleep at all. Beside her, Tanya snored softly, the sound both soothing and distracting.
At some point within the night, she had manage to doze off without any dreams.