AN: I am a disappointment! Don't kill me! I only wrote the equivalent of about half a chapter this week, but I figured, this is better than nothing right? And I know some people have been anticipating the return of creeper!Near. So... here he is! Yes, I know he's OOC. This is how he's been this whole fic. I find just find it amusing. ^.^ Enjoy my pathetic excuse for a chapter!

Near POV

I wouldn't refer to my behavior as "stalking." As the most intelligent resident of the orphanage and as L's first successor, it is only fair that I should keep close watch over the lesser beings. Permission was unnecessary, for who was Roger to deny me my wishes? The senile old man hasn't the mental capacity to see past the standard label of "stalking." I would call it my "private investigation." And if I happened to have surveillance cameras in L's room, was it truly a crime to watch the footage?

I mainly used the cameras to study human behavior and interactions. It was easier to observe through a hidden lens. This isn't because I particularly cared about the opinions of the other children. I never minded the whispers, the silent glances weighted with condemnation, nor the mocking words that were perhaps a little too loud to be meant for the child they were directed at. It is a simple fact that humans alter their behavior when they know they're being watched.

Of course, with such investigative methods, it is not terribly uncommon to see or hear things... secrets... that weren't meant to become my knowledge. Is it wrong to manipulate the information gained from surveillance cameras to blackmail or subtly threaten other orphans?

The surveillance cameras had always been of significant use. I never dreamed that the screen would ever betray me. I never dreamed that I would ever see something that I truly didn't want to see. Something horrible and vile that I can't... no... that I wouldn't use against them.

I sat, curled up on the floor of my closet staring unseeingly at the paused screen. The screen paused on the image of L and Light kissing. I suppose that if my thoughts had the ability to transmit onto my face, my expression would mirror Mello's twisted mask of shock and repulsion.

I couldn't stay here anymore. I couldn't bear it. I hurriedly twisted my code into the dial on the wall, and waited with slight anticipation as my screen was powered off, folded, and swallowed into the floorboards. I groped for the doorknob and tumbled out of the dark closet.

Trading cursed black for blinding white.

Blinding white. Pure white. Though white is considered my own signature color, it had always reminded me of L. L, who's intelligence and skill blinds the sharpest of criminals. Who's soul is as pure as his sense of justice, as a fresh sheet of winter snow. Pure. L was meant to be pure. Light, as a suspect of Kira, the worst mass murderer in history, was staining L, was tainting his purity.

I gasped and squeezed my eyes shut, twisting a lock of my hair with a painful tug. That fluttering, twisting, painful sensation flooding my chest...

Is this emotion?

Yes. This display of lust driven depravity I witnessed has effected me like none other.

These sensations, these emotions... I'll treat them like any other fact. I'll file them away to study their nature at another date. But for now, the footage I reviewed could perhaps be useful in another way.

I crawled over to the center of the room where my dolls lay haphazardly on the floor. With careful, practiced motions, I slid four puppets on my fingers. One with a wicked smile and a deceivingly innocent yellow bob. One with narrow, lazy stripes. One with chestnut hair and a tie. One with jet black hair and bleach white skin. Mello, Matt, Light, and L.

I held the 'L' puppet inches from my eyes. L who had alway stood alone. I studied the 'Light' puppet, residing mere centimeters away. Light, who has gotten close to the solitary sleuth. I held 'Mello' in my other hand, far from the mismatched pair. Mello, who's distance from his idol had always upset him. And the 'Matt' doll resided next to 'Mello,' pressed loyally into his side. Matt, who's feelings for Mello had never been difficult to discern.

But a new development... perhaps, unbeknownst to the pretentious pre-teen, his love may be reciprocated. Perhaps Mello in fact did not care for L as any more than an idol.

Whether Mello's sights were set on L or Matt, my plans shall only be altered slightly. For some reason, the thought of L and Light together was not an appealing notion. With my thumb and my forefinger, I clamped 'Light's head. Squeezing it, squeezing it, until with a sickening 'POP' his tiny head imploded.

And as for Mello... I carefully slid the 'Matt' and the 'Mello' puppets off of my fingers and placed them on the carpet, a full arm-span apart. They would have to be separated.

I flicked the demolished 'Light' off of my finger and examined the remaining, pallid puppet. L would stand alone, as it should be. I studied the figure for a moment more, before reaching to the floor to grasp another. I slid a fifth puppet, bleach white, onto the finger next to 'L'

L alone...

Or perhaps not.

L and Near.

L and N.