Here we are…the penultimate chapter! I finished this up after a long bike ride, which gave me some time to both plot out the details AND narrowly escape being run down by SUVs about six times. (lesson: don't bike and think)
So anyway, there's only one more chapter left! I promise to start writing that in short order, so I won't leave you hanging again. Heh.
Thank you all so much for sticking with me until nearly the very end! I'm flattered by all the reviews, faves and alerts I am now receiving regularly and I'd just like to say that as far as readers go, you're the best a girl could hope for.
Always remember to REVIEW. If you do, you'll have emotional A/Ns like the one above dedicated to you. :D
Disclaimer: I not be owning any notes of death.
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Three days after Near's confession, the Wammy House had become a battlefield. Not in the literal sense, of course; there were no corpses littered across the floor or snipers shooting from the windows. No carnage had taken place, but every child in the orphanage could sense the tension that sizzled between a certain pair of teenaged boys.
In those three days, exactly one sentence had been exchanged between Mello and Near. In fact, it wasn't even a full sentence. Near had found the blonde in the playroom, and tentatively approaching the other boy, he had murmured, "Mello—"
After a brief and one-sided struggle, he then found himself staring at the inside of a closet door and listening to the "click" that signaled a lock being turned. Several hours later, he was found by the cleaning staff, who received no answers to their frantic questions about his well-being.
This had occurred on the second day. Currently, the two boys were sitting at opposite ends of the dining room, Near with Linda and Mello with Matt at his side.
"—and so, really, it's not even worth using the 6B pencil with that sort of paper because the lead's going to smear, right?" Linda nudged her silent companion in the side, her other arm occupied with a detailed sketch of Near's untouched bowl of cereal.
Near nodded, but otherwise gave no response to Linda's words. She scowled, turning to look at the pale boy. "Near. Are you listening?"
"No," he admitted without a trace of guilt. His dark gaze was fixed upon a blonde head in the distance, the same blonde head that he had been staring at for the past few days. Mello was pouring milk into his third bowl of chocolate cereal, watching intently as the liquid took on an unappetizing brown color. Matt was buttering a piece of toast, observing the milk's horrifying transformation with a bored gaze. Sensing Near's eyes on him, he looked up, gracing Near with what might have been an apologetic expression. It turned to a smirk and raised eyebrows when he saw Linda seated next to the other boy.
Near kept on staring, until he was once more rudely interrupted by an elbow to the ribs. He silently noted that the bruise located there was now likely to be a slightly darker purple than it had been an hour ago.
"Near. Couldn't you at least pretend to be interested when I'm talking to you?"
"No," he replied, not even bothering to make eye contact with his companion. "It was entirely your choice to sit next to me. I am sure there are many other people in this room who would be glad to converse with you."
"Uh-huh," Linda muttered, finishing her drawing and flipping to the next page in the sketchbook. "So, how many pieces of cereal does Mello have in his bowl right now?"
"One hundred and twenty-three," Near replied. Mello enthusiastically downed a spoonful of cereal, causing the other boy to add, "One hundred and twelve, now…"
"I thought so," Linda said gloomily, sketching the outline of what looked to be a picture of Roger in a rather impractical frock. "He locked you in a closet, you know," she added, hooking the edge of Near's cereal bowl with her right hand and pulling it towards herself.
"I do realize that, yes," Near responded, not even acknowledging the theft of his breakfast. "That was my own fault. The approach was…faulty. I will not repeat it in the future, do not concern yourself."
"Faulty? What…you're not going to try again, are you?" Linda asked, eyes wide.
"Certainly I will. It seems foolish to accept defeat so quickly, especially now that I've had the chance to reconsider my tactics." Near smirked, his eyes regaining the familiar smug look. "I am sure that I can persuade Mello to listen to me."
Linda sighed and stood up, her sketchbook tucked securely under one arm. "Um…good luck, I guess. Look, I've got to get to class…bye." She dashed off, leaving Near to stare at the two empty cereal bowls on the table.
He found Linda's excuse highly doubtful, as classes did not start for another half-hour. It seemed that even Linda, who usually persisted in hovering around Near, had finally been put off by his eccentricities.
Really, he was grateful. Linda's advice had been less than helpful, and her chatter was a needless distraction from his newest plan.
Near shifted a bit and leaned forward to grab his half-finished glass of milk, taking a contemplative sip as his eyes once more veered towards the other side of the room. Mello, it seemed, had wolfed down his third bowl of cereal in record time and was now standing up from the table. Noticing that Matt was still seated, Mello reached down and flicked the side of the ginger's head with long fingers. Matt scowled, but nevertheless stood up as well.
If things were to proceed as they usually did, Mello and Matt would now go loiter in the game room until the first classes began. Or rather, they would stay there until slightly after the first classes started, as Mello preferred a fashionably late arrival.
The temptation to simply follow them to the game room and stage the confrontation there was difficult to resist. However, evidence suggested that the game room would be one of the worst places to corner Mello.
After being locked in a closet once, Near was not particularly eager to repeat the experience. Accordingly, he had spent all of yesterday with the schematics of the entire Wammy's House. Roger, feeling that a bit of indulgence in the orphanage's most gifted child could hardly be a bad thing, had handed over the plans with a wink and a smile.
There were closets everywhere, Near had discovered. All of them locked. In addition, there were no less than seventeen other small rooms, abandoned spaces, and large apertures where Near could possibly find himself concealed if things went wrong.
Witnesses were another matter. In all of their time at Wammy's House, Mello had never gone quite so far as to cause lasting physical harm to his rival. Near had been tripped, had his chair "accidentally" ran into, and his shower rigged to dispense alternate intervals of freezing cold and scalding water, but Mello had never actually ventured as far as to punch, kick, or even pull the hair of the younger boy.
Of course, all of that might be for naught if Mello got angry enough at him. Judging from the blonde's previous reactions to Near's affection, it was very likely that if Near approached Mello in a peaceful, private place, something bad would happen. Bad, in this case, meaning something along the lines of "do you remember what shape your nose used to be?" bad.
So, witnesses. Surely, if he found Mello when they were still surrounded by their peers, the blonde would have at least some motivation to not commit blatant bodily assault. Also, as quite a few of the children in the House were practiced snitches, they would run to report it immediately if Near happened to find himself stuffed in another closet.
Unfortunately, there were very few options for the perfect place in which to corner Mello. None of the classrooms were suitable, as the teachers would immediately break up any confrontation between their students during class time. Loitering in the classrooms afterwards was also unacceptable, as then they would be both isolated and within twenty feet of a closet.
The bathrooms did not contain closets, but Near had no urge to have his head stuffed down a toilet. Such a thing had not happened at the Wammy House for quite some time, but Mello was always willing to bend the rules in particular circumstances.
Neither Near nor Mello's room would be suitable either. In fact, they were the textbook examples of where not to meet, as both confined, solitary spaces and rooms containing closets.
Near might have been taking the closet paranoia just a bit too far, but after spending hours in one he felt quite justified in never, ever wanting to do it again. So, no closets.
Really, the only place left for him to confront Mello was outdoors. If the typical Wammy's House pattern continued, there would be a football game out on the front lawn today. In this situation, there was a very small chance of Mello being able to either run away or take out any of his aggressions physically.
Of course, this meant that Near would have to go outside. What's more, he'd have to go outside, into the midst of a game of football. It wasn't as bad as actually having to play the sport, but the pale boy was unwilling to step out of Wammy's on the best of days.
There were roughly three hours until the game of football would commence; Wammy's House had a break at eleven-thirty when the students could eat lunch, study, or amuse themselves with violent sports. Near usually spent this time in the library, constructing elaborate towers of books and reading up on the history of philosophy. Mello, in accordance with his aggressive personality, devoted the entire hour to sports and covert chocolate-eating.
The dining hall of Wammy's suddenly reverberated with the bell that signaled the end of breakfast. Unlike many schools, the bell they used was a real one, a relic from the old church that used to occupy the land. While most of the church had been demolished and the orphanage built on the grounds, the bell tower had remained as part of the chapel where the Wammy children occasionally found themselves sequestered.
The loudly chattering students filed out into the hallways, heading for the most part back to their rooms. The thirty minutes in between breakfast and the first class were intended to give the children time to shower, get dressed, and complete any unfinished homework, but they were far more frequently used for sleep.
Near stood up from the table, following the last of the dining hall occupants out of the dark double doors. As he passed the table by the exit, he left his empty bowl and glass amidst the pile of dirty crockery already formed by the other orphans.
The white-haired boy turned to the left as soon as he cleared the doors, heading towards the nearest communal bathroom. Being a person who appreciated routine, Near made it a habit to take his daily shower right after breakfast.
After a brief walk, he reached the large room that housed most of the Wammy House's showers and bathtubs. Pushing open the door, he headed towards the farthest corner of the room and secured an unoccupied shower cubicle. Having brought the necessary clothes and toiletries with him in a typically white bag, he set this bag on the provided bench and quickly went about the business of shedding his clothing and stepping under the hot spray.
Several minutes later, the water hissed off and Near emerged from the shower, toweling off the white hair that absorbed far more moisture than was really convenient. Locating his bag, he dressed slowly but efficiently, the white socks being pulled on as a finishing touch to the outfit.
The shampoo, dirty clothes, and towel were placed neatly back into the bag. Quietly opening the door to the cubicle, Near was met with the sight of Matt cheerfully brushing his teeth at one of the sinks.
Hearing the soft creak of the door, Matt turned around and smiled at the younger boy, the foaming toothpaste in his mouth giving him a rather alarming appearance. Near nodded at him, pulling out his own toothbrush and joining the ginger at the sinks.
"So," Matt mumbled around his toothbrush, "what are you planning?"
Near paused in the act of putting the perfect dollop of toothpaste on the brush, turning to look at the tall boy with a blank expression.
"Planning?" he asked coolly, as Matt leaned down to spit spectacularly into the basin. "What do you mean by that?"
Matt snorted, inadvertently sucking a bit of toothpaste into his nostrils. After a painful sneeze, he resumed his composure. "About Mello, obviously. You haven't given up, have you? You're still staring at him pretty much every opportunity you get."
"Ah," Near replied, finally putting toothbrush to mouth. "I do, in fact, have a plan. I don't suppose that you'd be interested in assisting me, Matt?"
"Well, I'd expect you'd have to actually tell me the plan first," the redhead responded, hoisting his narrow body onto the sink counter and swinging his legs idly. He brought a thin hand to his face, wiping off the now-dry toothpaste still clinging to the corners of his mouth.
Near frowned slightly, then turned to face the other. "I'm afraid that it is not one my more elaborate plans, but I think that it will be sufficiently successful. Really, it's just a matter of appealing to Mello's personality."
"Yeah, you tried that," Matt commented. "Didn't work out so brilliantly, remember?"
Near sighed, leaning down for one last spit into the sink before rinsing off his toothbrush. Breaking eye contact with Matt, he nevertheless replied, "I've changed my tactics somewhat. You might say that this approach involves less of a change in my own habits, and more of a directly emotional tactic."
"So…are you going to cry?" Matt asked, smirking. Near, to his credit, realized that this was intended to be a teasing tone, and forbore to reply angrily. Instead, he ignored the jibe and continued.
"I do not necessarily require your assistance this time, Matt, but it would be quite useful. A person to make sure that Mello is in the correct place at the correct time would be excellent, and you seem the most likely candidate."
"That's not enough info," Matt retorted. "C'mon, tell me what you're going to say. It's only fair, because if this thing goes wrong, I want to know exactly how far I should run in the other direction."
Near reached into his bag once more to retrieve a bottle of blue mouthwash. "I am going to hold a civil conversation with Mello, during which I shall attempt to convince him that he should entertain the idea of indulging my attraction." Having apparently filled his eloquence quota for the day, Near tossed back a capful of mouthwash and began to swish the substance about vigorously.
"Great," Matt replied, staring at his own toes with deep interest. "Is there more than, say, a ninety percent chance of you pissing him off so badly that he decides to take out his anger on the nearest bystander?"
"I'm fairly certain that it's unlikely," Near assured him, his enunciation somewhat diminished by the burning alcohol still occupying his mouth.
Matt sighed, hopping down off of the counter. "Fine, I'll help you, even though I still have no idea of what you're going to say to convince Mello of anything. Where and when do you need him?"
Near leaned down and spat out the mouthwash, breathing a sigh of relief. "Eleven-thirty, and playing football with the others on the front lawn. Do what you can to dissuade him from any other course of action."
"Alright," Matt responded, walking towards the door. "As long as it stops his never-ending tirades against you, I'm in. Just…don't piss him off too badly, eh?"
Near nodded, watching the door swing shut as Matt left the restroom.
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"GODDAMNIT, Mello!" a dark-haired boy shouted, rubbing the quickly-reddening spot on his arm where the ball had smacked into him. "Could you just aim for the goal, asshole?"
Mello gave no response, the smirk on his face speaking for him. As the other boy continued to clutch at his sore arm and mutter profanities, he walked away, waiting for the game to resume.
The blonde looked over his left shoulder, confirming that Matt was where he was supposed to be. The ginger was sitting underneath a large tree at the lawn's perimeter, his attention entirely fixated upon whatever madly-beeping game he had managed to procure this time.
Mello whistled loudly at him, then gestured rudely at the gamer as soon as eye contact was achieved. It was a sign of their friendship that Matt, instead of taking offense, paused his game and returned the gesture with both hands and three times the enthusiasm. Mello grinned, turning back to the field.
His good mood was immediately ruined when he spotted the awkward figure making its way towards him. With the glaringly white clothes and wobbly stride, it could really only be one person.
Mello briefly considered darting back inside, knowing that he could outrun Near with minimal effort. However, he rejected this cowardly idea in favor of first listening to Near, and then possibly beating the ever-loving crap out of him.
Near gradually approached the blonde, who had assumed the wide-legged, hands-on-hips stance that never boded well for his enemies. "Near," he acknowledged, voice cold.
Near nodded to him in turn, shifting uncomfortably at being outside in the sun. "I want to speak with you, Mello. I apologize for confronting you in such an unusual place, but in all honesty I wish to avoid small, enclosed spaces."
Mello stared as his rival, noticing with some disdain that the pale boy had neglected to even put on shoes for his trek outside. The damp grass was saturating his socks rapidly, but Near appeared not to notice.
"Fine. What the hell do you want to say?" the blonde asked, tapping his own bare foot against the ground.
Near stooped his shoulders, grabbing a lock of hair and twisting it between nervous fingers. "I realize that I may have inadvertently caused you a great deal of anger three days ago. That was…unfortunate, but certainly unintentional. It seems that you regard my affection as…a ploy, perhaps, or at the best an insensitive and self-absorbed attraction formulated only to irritate you. However, neither of these theories are at all true."
Mello scowled. "Look, freak. I'm not interested. If you have a crush on me, too bad. It's your own damn fault that you don't have a chance in hell with me. Maybe you should have focused a bit less on embarrassing me at every damn turn for the past decade, did you ever think of that?"
Near looked at him, his expression causing the other to fall silent. There was a strange yet inoffensive look in the pale boy's eyes, something difficult to identify.
Stepping closer to the blonde, Near took a deep breath.
"You see, Mello, that's the very thing. You've won."
"What?" Mello asked sharply, not quite comprehending the statement. Near smiled, for once managing to get the expression right.
"You've won. This time, you've finally beaten me." Seeing Mello's face, Near continued.
"It is not as though I particularly wanted to experience these feelings of adolescent attraction, and certainly not towards my own gender. I was quite content to see you as simply a respected rival, until this affection for you began to manifest itself."
Mello's eyes widened slightly as he began to understand, and he unconsciously leaned closer to his rival to hear the pale boy's quiet words. "So?…" he asked, prompting Near to continue.
"For a long period of time, I attempted to ignore my attraction towards you, Mello. I focused firmly on my studies and hobbies, assuming that I would be able to overcome your latest challenge as I had so many times in the past. Unfortunately, this has proven impossible."
Taking one more shuffling step towards the blonde, Near spoke the last sentences, the ones he desperately hoped would sway the other boy. "I tried to defeat you once again, by denying my feelings for you. I was not capable of doing this. Therefore, Mello, you have won. I am no better than you. We are…simply equals." Near finished his speech quietly, an uncomfortable feeling creeping into his chest. He still did not understand why people chose to reveal their emotions so frequently; this far, it had proven only to be an exercise in embarrassment.
Mello was silent for a moment, light eyes wide as his sharp mind processed Near's argument. Then, he grinned. It was terrifying.
"I won, huh?" he asked, eyes gleaming. Near nodded, unable to predict the other boy's next reaction.
He then choked, a perfectly natural reaction to suddenly having a tongue shoved into your mouth. Oh. He is kissing me? That…was rather easy, Near reflected.
Deciding that the sensation of having his ribs crushed in a passionate manner by Mello was actually quite worth the trouble, Near returned the kiss to the best of his ability. This was not saying very much.
To the utter bemusement of everyone else in eyesight, Mello and Near remained locked together for precisely thirty-two seconds, the kiss ending with a soft smacking noise and a judicious arse-grope from Mello.
Matt, having diverted his attention from Mario, whistled loudly. He was ignored.
"So…" Mello said, leaning back and looking Near in the eyes.
"Eggh?" Near replied, then swallowed heavily. "Or rather, what?"
"We're even now, eh?" the blonde murmured, cranking his seductive gaze up to eleven. Near nodded, not trusting his vocal cords very much at the moment.
"Even…" the blonde mused, tilting his head. "Well, I suppose it can't hurt to give your sad arse a chance, then."
Near nodded again, deciding to ignore the derogatory terms and focus on the promising aspects of the statement. "You wish to start a relationship?"
"Hmmm," Mello said, putting on an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression. "I suppose so. After all, I think I need to demonstrate some of the other areas in which I am superior to you."
Once more, Near nodded. It seemed to be the only thing he was capable of at the moment.
"Now come on, the bell is ringing," Mello said, abruptly regaining his usual demeanor. Turning around, he began to walk towards the orphanage.
Seeing that Near was still stationary, he stopped and beckoned impatiently. "Are you just going to stand here staring at my arse all day? Let's go, already!" Striding backwards, Mello grabbed a long-sleeved white arm and towed Near with him towards the open doors of the building.
"You want me to follow you?" Near asked, slightly alarmed.
"Obviously," Mello retorted.
As he was dragged in a surprisingly gentle manner towards his next class, Near realized something. Although the blonde's manner was typically surly, the knowledge that Mello wanted his company was strangely comforting.
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A/N: Well! What did you think of that? I got stuck a few times in this chapter, but towards the end I was hit in the head by my Muse (metaphorically speaking) and I started to write like mad. I think I'm pretty pleased with the results. You?
Hope to see you next chapter! I won't leave you waiting for too long, as it should be fairly easy to write. It'll be more of an epilogue than anything else, in fact…
Oh, and guess what! I'm going to be starting another M/N multichaptered fic after this one ends. It will be an AU, but with many elements from the original DN plot just twisted up a bit. I'll be focusing a bit less on the humor and more on the plot, but not to a drastic degree. I think that I'm going to have a lot of fun with this one, if my inspiration sticks around.
So, if you're interested, be on the lookout for it. It should be posted within a month of IAWL's ending, probably less than that.
Thanks for reading. I'll see you next chapter, my friends!