I know that you’ve always seen us as rivals, but I never saw it us as such.
You idolized L, but I idolized you.”
Near stared at what he’d wrote, before sighing and crinkling up the white lined paper and putting the compressed ball into his pocket. He looked up at the high ceilings of the SPK building. Then he looked at the circular train set that moved around him; a toy that he was steadily growing bored of.
It had been three months since he had all traces of himself, Mello, and Matt removed from Whammy’s house. Truthfully, he didn’t think there would be much left to remove, considering Matt’s hacking skills. And there wasn’t. All that was left was a photograph of each one of them and a one page summary of their life there. The files were locked in an old, broken filing cabinet in the basement.
Near burned the photograph of himself and of Matt. He’d never been particularly found of photographs, and he knew that Matt had to be forced to take this picture. Mello, on the other hand, had always been found of pictures.
Near couldn’t bring himself to burn Mello’s. The blonde would never believe that his rival would destroy the evidence of his face. He debating keeping it, just to remember what Mello once was: the happiness that emulated from him, the way the other kids admired him, how smart he was and how hard he tried.
Mello fought hard for everything he did.
Near admired the effort Mello exerted for everything. Near himself didn’t put effort into anything. He just played, plotted, and passed off his analysis to others. Those who worked below him were responsible for all the actual leg work. Near just made observations and put pieces together. It was Rester, Lidner and Gevanni that acted as his legs and arms to move the SPK forward, and to grasp the ungraspable.
Near picked up another sheet of paper, using one of the Gevanni’s pens to try writing something else.
L can’t be succeeded by just one of us. We can only succeed L together.”
Again, Near pulled out the sheet of paper and ripped it, tucking the pieces in his pocket. He sighed, twisting his fingers through his hair. He was about ready to give up.
Then, he realized the only thing Mello would understand.
He grabbed the picture, writing, “Dear Mello,”
“Near!” Rester’s voice sounded.
“Huh?” Near glanced up from his trains and the picture in his hand. His dark hues went to the screens behind him. Mello was escorting Lidner with a gun. A sigh escaped him. He should have known.
He tucked the picture into his shirt, keeping it out of sight.
“What should we do?” Rester questioned, glancing back to him.
“Let them in.” Near said, as if that was the obvious answer.
The lock on the door opened. “Mello. Welcome.” Near greeted.