Whew! So, I've just had an excellent weekend. There was an anime convention in my area, so I attended as Near. Probably the best part was that I got to be part of an "anime dating game" in which poor Near was paired off with an incredibly tall school girl from Haruhi Suzumiya. (keep in mind, I'm just a tad above five feet…she probably could have stuffed me into her pockets had she so wished) Anyway, it was quite fun, and I got heaps of praise for my apparently-scarily-accurate characterization of Near.
Um, anyway, that was irrelevant. So…new chapter! You excited? I know I am! Now, this one's kind of short, but I'm pretty sure it accomplished all that I had in mind so I'm not too disappointed with the length. Hopefully you won't be either! Some rather exciting stuff happens in this particular installment, so read carefully.
I hope you all had a good V-Day? I did, although I did have a pretty bad cold as well. Ugh.
On with the show!
But first—REVIEWS are delicious, and highly nutritious. REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!
Disclaimin' here: I am not the owner of the incredibly delicious work of fiction known as Death Note. However, I do own you. Dance, puppets, dance!
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"Near, you want a coffee?" Matt's voice sounded awkwardly from above the white-haired boy's shoulders. Near turned to meet the other's gaze, his hunched body teetering precariously as weight shifted to his right leg.
"No," he replied, providing no further insight. Matt nodded, digging his wallet out from a back pocket and flipping sadly through the scant cash that remained inside.
"Mello, what about you? A coffee?" Mello momentarily stopped glaring at his rival across the table and looked at his friend, levying a sullen gaze at the ginger's goggles.
"Coffee? Hell no, it's fucking bitter. Get me a mocha."
"Mochas have coffee in them," Matt commented, looking at the price board suspended over the café's counter. "And apparently, they're the most expensive beverage available here. It figures."
Mello, who had returned to his brooding silence, did not dignify this with a reply. Matt sighed and joined the queue of customers waiting to order their drinks.
This left Mello and Near to sit in uncomfortable silence, refusing to meet each other's eyes. Near, who seemed to be entirely absorbed with studying the wood grain of the table, steadfastly ignored Mello's angry gaze. The burning look was aimed at his left knee in order to avoid eye contact, but it was still a glare capable of melting titanium.
After a few more moments of quiet, Near turned to observe Matt's progress in line. The ginger was stuck behind a large woman who was apparently giving a passionate speech upon the decline of the printed word to the bemused cashier. With every wave of her beefy arm, a fold of flesh jiggled madly and obscured a good half of Matt's face from view. Catching Near's eye, Matt made a disgusted face and shrugged his shoulders.
Near turned back to the table. Instead of speaking to his silent companion, he opted to pull a deck of cards from his left breast pocket. He shuffled the deck with great speed, and flipped the cards down to the table in the bridging motion that Mello had never been quite able to master. After tapping the top and side edges of the deck on the hard wood of the table top, Near put a card facedown in front of him. More surprisingly, he also gave one to Mello.
The blonde looked up, startled. "Did I ask to play cards?" he questioned darkly, narrowing his eyes at the other boy. Near shrugged.
"I thought that since you don't appear in a talkative mood, we could play a game of cards to cut the monotony." Near dealt both he and Mello another facedown card directly on top of the first.
Mello frowned, his eyes now mere slits. "What card game?" he asked, suspicious.
"War. It's a game of chance, so please don't take your emotions out on me if you lose." Near smirked slightly, unable to resist taunting Mello even in the throes of a maddening crush.
A blue eye twitched in Mello's face, but the boy managed to get his irritation under control. "War? That's the most boring card game on the face of the planet," he said harshly, watching as another card flicked down onto his pile. Near's smirk widened exponentially.
"It doesn't have to be dull, Mello. Perhaps we could stake a wager on the outcome of the game?"
"Huh," Mello replied, looking thoughtful. "If you won?"
"You would cease to harass me for two weeks. A simple term, don't you agree?" Near finished dealing, and placed his hands delicately on top of the decreased deck in front of him.
Mello stared at him for a moment, and then nodded. "In return…if you win, you have to stay away from Matt."
Near looked surprised. "Matt? Why?"
"Because when you hang around Matt, you're just going to be bothering me in the bargain. Hell, look at today. We were supposed to be on a date, and then you showed up out of nowhere."
Near snorted, leveling a cold gaze at the blonde. "I refuse that condition. It's hardly viable."
"Tell me a better one, then," Mello retorted. Near tried not to grin outright. Ah, Mello…he had underestimated Near's intentions once again. Everything was proceeding quite admirably.
"Well, I don't wish to avoid Matt or anyone else at your whim, but I suppose I also need to satisfy what is surely your urge to humiliate me…"
Mello smiled darkly. "Thinking out loud, huh?" Near ignored him.
"I suppose that if you win, I shall…tell you something personal enough to be embarrassing. Is that sufficiently degrading for your tastes, Mello?"
"You have secrets?" Mello asked, looking amused. "Sure, that sounds perfect. Although I bet you don't really have anything interesting to say…or at least, you won't tell the truth."
"I promise that, if I lose this game, I shall be entirely truthful with you." Near held out a hand to shake, and after a brief look of disgust, Mello clasped the pale hand in his own.
"Deal."
Near chuckled uncomfortably; Mello stared at him. "What's so damn funny?"
"Oh," Near said, the smile sliding off of his face. "I thought that you had made a pun. As we are playing a card game, it is possible for the word 'deal' to take on a humorous double meaning…" He trailed off, rather disappointed that the one time it seemed he had gotten the joke, there hadn't been any joke to begin with.
Mello looked exasperated, but thankfully forbore to comment on Near's mistake. Instead, he picked up the top card on his deck and flipped it face-up on the café table. Near followed suit, his nine of hearts beating Mello's three of diamonds. Sliding the two cards to the side of his deck, Near laid down the next card.
By the time Near ran out of cards from his first deck, Matt had returned with beverages and the four aces had been revealed to be equally divided amongst Mello and Near. Matt, who had simply raised his eyebrows after finding a heated game of War going on at the previously silent table, sipped his coffee and observed the two participants.
Mello was leading by a slight margin, with maybe eight more cards than the white-haired boy. As he set down the bottom card of his deck and lost it to Near's king, he flipped his stack of won cards over and dealt from the top once more.
Near smiled inwardly, pleased that Mello was playing the game the way that Near had hoped. He had occasionally seen people shuffle their cards before starting a new deck, but it seemed that Mello had not yet caught on to Near's strategy.
Yes, there was a strategy. After some consideration, Near had determined that Mello would not accept an outright confession of his feelings. However, if Mello could be made to feel as though he was the one in charge of getting Near to reveal his secrets, then Near's chances of being taken seriously increased exponentially.
Therefore, the white-haired boy had engaged in the time-honored pastime of counting cards. Mello had been too distracted by their conversation to notice Near's attentive eyes on the cards in his hands, and both had been dealt hands that, when pitted against each other, would ensure victory for the blonde. For once, Near's objective was not to win this game; it was imperative that he lose to Mello and therefore be "forced" to reveal his feelings for the other.
All battles of wits aside, the game had grown rather heated. At the moment, Mello was losing, having surrendered an ace and two kings to his opponent in a minor war. Matt, entirely bored by the whole thing, had taken Mello's rapidly-cooling mocha and was carefully shredding a straw wrapper over the chocolaty liquid. Various bits of sodden paper floated around in chaotic patterns that unfortunately failed to amuse the gamer.
"Did you really have to pick one of the most tedious card games known to man?" he interjected, watching in desperate boredom as the two geniuses simultaneously flipped their cards onto the table. Mello shot him a dark glance.
"There's a bookshop next door, you know," he muttered, glaring as Near's jack overpowered his ten and both cards were dragged away.
Matt sighed. "I spent all of my money on your bloody mocha. Which you haven't even touched, might I add…" He stopped as Near perpetrated what could only be described as the least subtle wink in history, aimed directly at his orange goggles. Luckily, Mello was far too busy scowling at his apparent losing streak to notice the action.
Obviously, the card game was part of Near's plan. As Matt was responsible for telling the other boy to confess his feelings in the first place, this boredom was evidently his karmic retribution. Hopefully, Near had also planned for the game to be over in a relatively brief time, otherwise he really would have to go somewhere else. Watching two people play cards was an incredibly unrewarding experience.
Mello had now taken the lead; Near had lost three straight wars, surrendering all of his aces in the process. Mello grinned as the white-haired boy slowly started to hemorrhage cards from his deck; first the weaker values like two and four, and then the valuable kings and jacks.
After ten more silent minutes, Near was down to only three cards. Having orchestrated this entire game, he knew that his five, jack, and nine would all be taken by his opponent. Indeed, Mello's next three cards easily won over Near's. As the blonde's queen defeated the lone nine, Mello smirked.
"It looks as though you've lost to me for a change, Near. Now, what could you possibly have to tell me that I would find interesting?"
Matt suddenly realized exactly what was going on. His head snapped up. "I have to take a piss!"
Both Near and Mello stared at him strangely. Lamely, he continued, "Guess I'll go…piss…yeah, see you in a minute…" He pushed the now-cold mocha towards Mello and ran off to the restrooms.
After an awkward silence, Mello regained the thread of conversation. "So, secrets. I doubt you have any particularly good ones, but do try to pick the most embarrassing."
Near scowled imperceptibly, gathering the cards from the table and reshuffling them carefully. After they had been tapped down to a perfect rectangle, they slid back into his pristine white pocket.
"You have a taste for cruelty, Mello," he commented, taking a sip of the water Matt had so thoughtfully provided him with. It washed down his dry throat, relieving some of the tension that came with confessing one of his most humiliating secrets.
Mello was unruffled by Near's snide comment, too smug in his victory to be irritated by the white-haired boy's customary attitude. "Come on, Near. If you don't tell me something, I'm going to have to think of some other way to claim my victory." The blonde flinched, hoping that Near was too naïve to pick up on any sexual undertones in that statement. The innuendo certainly wasn't intentional, but quite undeniably present nonetheless.
Happily, Near didn't seem to notice anything unusual. Instead, he simply took another sip of water and curled pale fingers into his untidy white hair, looking quite serious.
"I do have something that I think will satisfy you, Mello," he said quietly. Mentally, he had begun to calculate the easiest escape route should Mello react badly. They were sitting quite close to the door, and if that wasn't an option the windows appeared to unlatch…
Mello shook him out of his slightly paranoid thoughts. "Hurry up with it.. All the dramatic pauses are pissing me off."
"Mello…." Near began, swallowing anxiously but keeping the anticipation from showing on his face. "My confession…is that…"
Mello stared at him, blue eyes narrow but attentive. Tanned fingers drummed a tattoo on one jean-clad knee, observing the white-haired boy for any trace of falsehood. There was none.
"I…have what might be described as 'romantic' feelings towards you, Mello. They have been plaguing me for quite some time, and quite frankly…it's a relief to finally confess." Near tensed, waiting for the inevitable explosion.
Mello performed the rather admirable feat of choking on thin air. As Near watched nervously, the blonde boy doubled over and coughed until he regained his voice.
"You…what the HELL?" he sputtered, eyes watering.
"I told you, I am attracted to you," Near retorted, unsurprised at this reaction.
"…what the Hell?…" Mello repeated, looking entirely bemused. "Are you fucking with me? Because you damn well better be, Near."
"I am not…'fucking' with you, Mello. I've been quite truthful."
The blonde stared at his rival, features finally assuming the anticipated expression of anger.
"So, what? You've been a bastard all these years because you…heh…LIKE me? Seriously, Near? Is this supposed to make me not hate you, this stupid confession?" Light dawned in those blue eyes as Mello's considerable brain made a connection. "You rigged that damn card game, didn't you? You wanted to tell me."
"I…" Near's eyes flickered to the escape routes, but they failed to reassure him adequately. "Matt told me to do it," he concluded, the ages-old instinct of placing the blame onto someone else kicking in.
Mello looked quite furious now. "Matt? My boyfriend wanted you to tell me what, that you think I'm hot? You think I fucking believe that?"
"Really, Mello, not everything requires profanity…" Near murmured, stopping when Mello's vitriolic gaze beamed onto him. He changed tactics. "Again, I'm telling the truth. You may even ask Matt for yourself."
Matt, when he returned to the table, immediately sensed that the crisis had not been averted. Both Mello and Near were staring at him in a seriously disturbing manner, and he briefly considered running back to the bathroom.
"Matt," Mello said flatly, casting another burning glare at Near. "Did you seriously tell Near that he should tell me how he felt?"
"I, uh…yes?" Matt offered, his eyes flickering to the door.
"Why?" Mello snarled, refusing to even acknowledge the white-haired boy watching the proceedings with a faint look of misery. "Great boyfriend, you are."
"God, Mello, you do realize I don't actually want to be your boyfriend?"
The blonde blinked. "You don't?"
"No!"
"Oh," Mello said, irritated. "You couldn't have mentioned that before, idiot?"
"I did…" Matt said, pressing a palm to his temple and vaguely hoping for an aneurysm. "Just…never mind. Look, about Near…"
Mello snorted. "Yeah, about Near. Look, do you really think that just because he's decided I'm pretty, I'm going to stop hating him?"
Sighing, Near restrained himself from mentioning that yes, that had been one of his hopes. But of course, Mello had to be his difficult self and continue to stress their "rivalry."
Matt searched around for a reply. "Well…I mean, do you remember when we were little, and you'd show someone you liked them by hitting them, stealing their stuff, that sort of thing?"
Mello scowled. "You're saying that a lifetime of Near acting like a superior bastard is just due to some sort of schoolgirl crush?"
"It is not a schoolgirl crush," Near retorted quietly, feeling that he should probably step in to defend himself at some point. Mello ignored him.
"Look, I'd prefer it if all you did was pinch me and steal my pencil case. But honestly, I'm not going to forgive you for any of those nasty little speeches or smug grins just because you like me. I still hate you, Near. So please, just fuck off."
Near winced, wondering if rectifying this situation was now completely impossible. "I assure you, Mello, I never really intended to make you feel inferior to me…" This was a lie, of course, but Matt had been right. Irritating Mello was a guaranteed way to get the blonde's attention, and Near found himself employing this tactic quite frequently.
Mello wasn't having any of it. "Near, if I believed that, I sure as hell wouldn't be smart enough for Wammy's. I don't care if you intended to shower me with puppies and goddamned rainbows, I'm not interested. Emphatically."
Near was finally silent, his mind furiously working. This had really, really not gone well. There was a high chance that Mello would now hate him even more than he had previously, in fact.
Matt took a seat at the left edge of the table, casting tentative glances between the two silent boys. Mello was still glaring, his breath heavy and angry. Spotting the mocha near his elbow, the blond grabbed the Styrofoam cup with a swift movement and took a deep gulp of the chilly liquid.
He paused, the cup still tilted as his throat worked furiously.
"Why the Hell is there paper in my drink!?"
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A/N: Well, that was fun, huh? Now, I had the boys play War in a very specific way to ensure that Near would be able to count the cards properly…you might shuffle your deck when you play, but I actually did field research for this one. Of all the people I played War with (about five) none of them shuffled, instead choosing only to flip their cards over after each round. So, I assume that Mello and Near would play in the same manner. Dig?
Thanks for reading! As always, I enjoy your feedback, and just talking to you cool people in general!
Next chapter is in the relatively-near future.