Near woke up early on the morning of his twelfth birthday. He didn't know what had woken him, so he decided that the best option was to go back to sleep- he had been fretting over his knew miniature model set, and had been up until all hours of the morning assembling and painting a tiny city, and he really needed the rest. He was going back to sleep, that is, until he felt the bed shift. He was instantly more than awake, eyes flying open and straining in the dark room.

"Who's there-" He started, until a hand covered his mouth.

"Shhh," a voice soothed. Near turned his eyes on the stranger on his bed, and was relieved to see L bending over him, if not a little confused.

"Happy birthday, Nate." L whispered.

Near's eyes widened. "You're not supposed to call me that!" he gasped. L smiled.

"But it's so much more endearing to be called by one's birth name on one's birthday, wouldn't you think? Besides, no one heard, so you're safe." He took a seat on the edge of the bed, his thumb finding it's way to his lips. Near didn't know how to respond, so he said the first thing that came to mind.

"You didn't visit on Mello's birthday."

"I was busy," L offered plainly.

"But why come on mine?"

"I wasn't busy."

Near was about to dispute the logic in that when L pulled a beautifully wrapped gift from behind his back. "I brought you a gift." L held it out in front of him. Near looked at it. L looked at Near. "I do believe it's rude to not accept a gift, Near." Near quickly took it.

"Unwrap it," L encouraged. And Near did, albeit hesitantly. As he peeled away the shiny wrapping paper, he worked hard to read the words in the dim light. "Ten thousand piece... puzzle- ten thousand piece puzzle." He looked up at L. "This is the biggest puzzle I've ever had."

"I know," L said, gnawing on his thumb, "but I'm sure you can figure it out. Take a picture of the finished project for me." L sat for a second longer, then reached out and tried to brush down a cow-lick the little boy had developed during the night. Near bowed his head slightly, feeling another blush creep across his cheeks. L gave up on taming the boy's unruly hair, and climbed off the bed. "I'm afraid I have to go," he said, "Watari is waiting for me in the driveway. Until we meet again, Near." Silently, he left the room.

"Goodbye," Near whispered, not looking up. The puzzle would be done by the end of the week.

By the time the other kids at Whammy's had awoken, Near was already in a spacious play room, the puzzle scattered around the floor. He had been able to piece together a decent portion of the night sky when his classmates found him.

"Goodness!" He heard someone exclaim, "Do you see that box? Ten thousand pieces! And most of them are black. This is the hardest puzzle I've ever seen Near try."

"Yeah," a child replied, "I bet a pudding cup that he can't finish it."

"Oh, you're on!" The first kid replied. Near tuned them both out. He continued to work until an annoyed caretaker forced him to go to class, but he was back at lunch time, pushing the little pieces together, one by one.

Mello sat at a table with his closest friends at Whammy, immersed in conversation. He was talking to Jean-luc when he heard someone say, "I've heard that L personally brought Near that puzzle."

"What? No way. When would he have done that?"

"Sometime this morning. They say that they had to let him in, and take him to Near's room."

Mello paused mid-sentence. Could these rumors be true? Regardless, he could already feel the sharp stab of anger growing in his stomach. The expensive foreign chocolate Mello had flaunted suddenly seemed like nothing. L could have bought him a chocolate factory, but it wouldn't matter; he had physically come and wish Near a happy birthday. The hurt festered. Before he knew it, Mello was running through the halls. He knew where Near would be, and he would make him pay. He was fuming when he entered the playroom, but much to his disappointment, the white haired boy was not in there. There was only his puzzle, much of it already together, and a dirty plate. The anger bubbled and overflowed, and in a fit Mello started kicking apart the puzzle. Pieces broke, others flew across the room, bent, peeled. He grabbed handfuls and crushed them against his palm before throwing them against a wall. Within minutes, a woman barged in and grabbed him by the elbow, jerking him into realization.

"Mello!" She yelled, astonished, "Why would you do this?"

"L came to see Near on his birthday!" Mello spat, "But he didn't see me! I wasn't important enough!"

"Mello, you know that's not true-" The woman started, but Mello twisted out of her grip before she could stop him, and raced down the hallway, away from her and the carnage he left. She sighed, shaking her head at his emotional outburst, and then turned to see what she could salvage.

Instead, she found Near standing in the doorway behind her. With one hand on the door frame, and the other at his side, he stood there, completely emotionless.

"Oh, Near," cooed, "Don't-"

"No bother," Near said, "it's ruined." His subtle expression said everything he hadn't. He padded away, as discreetly as he came. She watched him go, and, even though it was useless, she ordered that no one touch the wreckage.

In the dead of the night, Near escaped from his room and walked silently to the playroom where the remnants of his puzzle lay, scattered and broken, all over the ground. He dropped to his hands and knees and gathered all of the pieces, piling them in the middle of the room, and even though he knew that it was impossible, he started putting the puzzle back together again. As he worked, he felt tears well up in his eyes. Normally he would blink them away, wipe his eyes with his hand, and pretend like this emotion in his heart wasn't actually there, but that night, all alone, he let them fall. He cried silently, trembling slightly and sniffing every so often. Roger watched the boy work futilely in the dark, but they both knew that, no matter how hard Near worked, the puzzle would never be complete, a piece forever missing.

Next week, a letter came from L. Roger was finding his letter opener when he noticed a small "M" and "N" in the corner, L's not-so-subtle alert that it was for Mello and Near. Roger set the letter aside and attended to the rest of the Whammy house mail before going to find the two boys.

He came upon Near first; he found him where he left him that night, asleep on the floor of the play room, his head nestled into the crook of his arm. His pajama clad body looked so young and fragile, and Roger felt his heart ache. He crouched beside the boy and nudged him into wakefulness.

"Near, you have a letter from L."

"Nngh, what about the letter L?" The boy asked, rubbing his eyes.

"No, no, a letter from L."

"Mmm, oh." Near replied. Roger chuckled. Near had never been a morning person. He handed the letter to Near, who looked at it with a mildly confused expression. "Give it to Mello after you've read it." He said, and left. Near started to messily rip the envelope open.

Unfortunately, the letter was rather boring. L reprimanded Mello on his behavior, and advised that he learn to control his anger. He said he'd visit soon, as he felt he needed to form a relationship with his possible successors. Near noted his use of "possible," as if neither of them were good enough. When he finished the letter, he considered keeping it to himself, as pay back, but Mello would be beyond furious if he found out he was hiding the letter from him. With a sigh, Near rose to his feet and started for the front door.

He pushed into the bright world outside and made his way to the soccer field, dirtying his white socks in the grass. He gingerly stepped over rocks, frowning as they cut into his feet. When Mello laid eyes on the petite boy, he stormed over, angry at just seeing him.

"What the hell do you want?" He demanded. Near handed him the letter. "It's already opened!" Mello yelled, balling his hand into a fist, "What, just because L visited you, you think you get first dibs? As if!"

"Roger gave it to me first. Probably because you're supposed to be being punished." He narrowed his eyes, partly to emphasize his mood, partly to block out the blinding sun.

Mello said nothing, just turned and pulled the neatly folded letter out of the envelope. Without waiting a moment longer, Near went back to the building, looking forward to a clean pair of socks.