AN: Hello everyone! An entire chapter dedicated to everyone's favorite little creeper headed your way! You may find this VERY familiar. You see, this is Near's perspective on something that already happened, so on the timeline, this is before L and Light were being cute and fluffy in bed. (that wasn't supposed to sound perverted btw).

IMPORTANT PLEASE READ: For reference, it might help to refresh on the events of the end of chapter 20- when Matt and Mello are being adorable in the bathroom.

So yes this chapter is a bit redundant and barely moves the plot- more like kinda kicks it and does a happy dance when it scoots forward a centimeter- but I couldn't resist! This chapter was amusing to write. Enjoy!

Near POV

I ran my finger along the light etchings on the wall of the bathroom stall. Shakespearian quotes, detailed drawings, complicated algorithms, poetry... the walls of this stall had been mildly intriguing to read the first time. Of course, after visiting this stall every day during lunch hour, the permanent fixations now seemed to be more affective at destroying the perfection of the white formica than mental stimulation. I rolled my eyes to the ceiling, consulting my mental clock. Approximately twenty two minutes have passed since the beginning of lunch. Due to his newly acquired limp, it should take Roger twelve minutes longer than usual to inspect each room to ensure that none of the children had skipped lunch. Nine minutes to go then.

I sighed and clutched my leg closer to me, careful not to rattle the ceramic toilet seat. Perhaps I should devise a better method to avoid human interaction. I once wore a sign around my neck to lunch warning the other students to stay away. Unfortunately, that only succeeded in instigating conversation six minutes earlier than usual, thus earning me six minutes longer of puzzle-less solitude.

The time spent here could be made more bearable if I stored a puzzle or an action figure here. But how to protect my beloved belongings from the nightly janitor?

My head lolled to the side in utter boredom. Eight minutes.

SLAM

My ears pricked at the sudden noise. Someone had entered the bathroom with unusual force.

"Out," a voice growled.

My eyes widened minutely. Had I been discovered?

A tiny 'meep' and a hurried scuffle. The door closed once more, this time with a regular clicking noise. I inferred that the comment had been directed towards another child, most likely inferior to the boy that had so explosively entered.

"Must you terrorize children?" Another voice. So there were two mysterious boys in the bathroom.

"Sit," the first voice commanded. The voices, both of them, sounded disturbingly familiar. Of course, this fact in itself was not surprising. I had heard the voice of every child in the orphanage at least once. What was disconcerting was the fact that my genius mind could not immediately place the voices to names and faces.

What could be the cause of this phenomena, the cause of this average mental response? I ran the dialogue over in my head once more. The voices sounded rather... strained. The conversation was short and awkward. Therefore, I was incapable of matching their voices due to the unnatural resonance of their voices.

I fought the urge to peer over the top of the stall to view the answer to my dilemma. No, that would be cheating. These two prodigies... they will be my game, my puzzle.

"Here... Wipe off your hand."

Let's review my collected puzzle pieces.

Two boys enter with a slam of the door, completely disregarding the possible damage to both the door and the wall.

Violent, Careless

Boy #1 forcibly commands an inferior to leave a public bathroom. The other child scurries out without protest.

Boy #1: Intimidating

Boy #2 is unsurprised and blase in regard to his companion's actions.

Boy #2: Laid back, a close friend

Boy #1 commands Boy #2 to sit. There is no protest or further discussion. It can be assumed with reliable certainty that Boy #2 complied without complaint.

Boy #1 is commanding and demanding of Boy #2, yet the more docile boy does not mind.

"Um, I'll just... um, wipe off the blood then..." Boy #1 continued awkwardly.

Of course! I carefully stood on the seat of the toilet, wobbling only slightly, and curled my fingers over the top of the stall. I shifted my weight to the balls of my bare feet, and peered over to find... just as I suspected. None other that Matt and Mello.

They were in a rather... intimate position. Matt was perched on the edge of the counter, appearing exactly as uncomfortable as his voice had betrayed. Mello hovered over him, holding a sodden paper towel centimeters from Matt's blood smeared face. I wondered briefly what misfortune had befallen the young teen, but quickly concluded that I didn't care.

Mello visibly gulped and touched the paper to his friend's chin. The scene was utterly ridiculous. The two boys were geniuses. True, their intelligence didn't match my own, but they should be able to manage cleaning off a small cut without such superfluous anxiety. In fact, Mello's very presence was entirely unnecessary. Matt could have wiped the wound clean himself much more efficiently then Mello's slow strokes.

Matt's eyelids fluttered shut, and a blissful expression replaced his anxious gait, as if he were thoroughly enjoying the fact that Mello was washing blood off his face. If I were in such a situation (which I wouldn't be due to the fact that I am fully capable of cleaning myself) I would never once let my guard down while Mello held power over my injured body. But of course, friends trusted each other. Foolish. Trust is deadly.

A look of indecision possessed Mello's features, which only appeared to increase his unfounded nerves. He took a deep breath, and touched the towel to his friend's lips. Matt's eyes snapped open.

"It's on your lip," Mello tried to explain. "My teeth must have cut your lip..."

Both of their faces faded into deep red hues, and they averted their eyes. Ah, I see. Mello and Matt were somehow put into a compromising position, and Mello accidently cut Matt's lip with his teeth, hence the blood. I almost smiled. For two humans who may or may not hold romantic feelings for one another, they should be in great discomfort. The notion brought me a flicker of twisted elation. Mello's weak emotions were causing him inner turmoil. Weak, foolish Mello...

The two were frozen in place, staring deeply, sickeningly, into eachother's eyes. The blood was fully removed from Matt's face, and yet Mello did not stop his treatment. He ran the paper towel along Matt's lips again and again, even in places were the blood had never touched. Mello was too trapped by his idiocy to realize his task was complete! I scoffed. How stupid he would feel when he realized how unnecessary his actions were.

He slowly rose his hand which I could see, even from my position, was trembling, and brought it to Matt's face, cupping his cheek. His thumb thrummed a steady motion on the other boy's cheek. Now this was getting disturbing. Mello dropped the crimson towel.

"I-I'm done. Feel better?"

I felt slightly disappointed. Although Mello's cheeks were tinged a faint pink, I could tell his mortification was not born of his own idiocy.

Matt's eyes widened, but other than that, he sat perfectly still. Was the boy deaf? Mello had just asked him a question!

Then, Mello did the unthinkable. He kissed Matt. Mello kissed Matt! There was a seventy percent possibility that Matt and Mello shared mutual affection, but for them to become... intimate... so soon exceeded my calculations. I had thought it would take Mello a significant amount of time to come to terms with his feelings, let alone act on them. Then again, Mello had always been impulsive.

I ducked my head down, not particularly keen on watching the two supposed geniuses lip lock. First L, and now Mello and Matt? Why was everyone making such poor, primal, disgusting decisions?

"So..." I heard Mello mumble rather awkwardly. After a moment of tense silence, "I'm sorry, Matt. I-I'm sorry I-"

"I love you Mello!" Matt exclaimed. I shook my head in disapproval. I had always thought that Matt was the more level-headed of the two.

"Don't mock me, Matt," Mello whispered. "I can see you- you didn't like it..." It seems I overestimated Mello's intelligence.

"Mihael Keehl." I twisted a lock of hair around my finger. Who is Mihael Keehl?

"What are you saying?" Exactly my sentiment, Mello.

"Mihael Keehl," Matt repeated, "I love you." Perhaps this was some sort of code. I've read that twins often develop a fragmented original language. Matt and Mello spend so much time together, they may be mentally as in sync with each other in a similar way.

"Mello?" Matt asked.

"You love me." I rolled my eyes. Pardon the language, but no shit Sherlock.

"Matt... Mail Jeevas..." Hm... another random name. "I-I... You're bleeding again."

"Oh," Matt's voice sounded utterly dejected. I suppose he has every right to feel disappointment. I believe Mello missed the opportunity to say 'I love you too.' This is why love is a terrible emotion. It is painful, and far more fatal than trust.

"And..." Mello continued. "I kinda love you too."

I almost made a noise of disappointment. I wanted Matt's little heart to be crushed. Perhaps then he'd recognize the folly of his ways.

A soft click alerted me that the two brainless love birds had exited the bathroom. I waited forty seconds before hopping off the toilet and following.

That night (or rather morning as it was approximately 2:15 AM) I returned to my room after a long afternoon and evening in the library satiated with lego structures and denial. I had waited long enough. Mello and Matt's new relationship status had disrupted the partially formed plans I had previously harbored, but I must force myself to move forwards, start from scratch. I wrapped my finger delicately around the doorknob, preparing for hours of devious calculation and thought, and swung the door open.

To my astonishment, I found that my room wasn't precisely as I had left it. No, for when I left for classes there certainly hadn't been a bloated white duffle and a deflated one by its side in the middle of the floor. A chill crept up my spine, and I swiftly darted my eyes around the room, immediately on edge. I crouched down and rolled to the balls of my feet as I have observed L do many times and furtively moved towards the central obstruction, darting swiftly and surely in a manor that wasn't quite a crawl, but couldn't quite be classified as a spring.

I resisted the urge to claw at my crawling skin and pound at my chest in a vain attempt to beat my sporadic heartbeat into submission. Logically, I knew that there was only a 3% probability that someone other than a trusted Wammy employee had infiltrated my territory. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling of inbred paranoia and violation. I felt exposed, defiled, and dirty. How dare some inferior being invade my space?

I scanned the bag and found a neatly placed note resting atop it.

Near-

I apologize for invading your privacy, but L has ordered me to prepare yourself, Mello, and Matt for departure at six AM. For fear you would not return to your room in time, (which I hope you realize is strictly forbidden) I took the liberty of packing your necessities in this bag. There is another here for you to pack with other items if you so choose. Please report to the front lobby at five fifty seven AM. Do not alert the other students.

-Roger

I allowed to relax, but only slightly. There was still a possibility that an intelligent criminal planted this note as a ruse. Like L, I will always remain alert.

I began to cautiously gather my toys, puzzles, and legos.

I wonder where we are going? And for how long?

AN: So, moral of the story... Near's a creep and Matt, Mello, and Near are all going to Japan with L and Light! Next chapter should be more lighthearted. Fun on the plane!