四十四 | 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

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Near dodged out of Arata's way just in time to watch the machete's blade slice through the screen of the computer monitor, the wires fraying and sizzling and sparking from the contact.

The two men met each other's eyes.

In that instant, they immediately knew that only one of them would survive that night, and only one of them would be able to have (Y/M). Near was the first to move, pushing himself off of the floor to run towards one of the nearby desks situated in the room, throwing open the drawer and hastily grabbing a gun. Before he could even think of releasing the safety, Arata lunged at him again, this time able to slice through his arm ever so slightly before he jumped away again.

Near hissed in pain, watching as his blood dripped to the floor in a steady rhythm.

"What the hell?" Arata laughed, holding up his weapon in a way that the blade caught on the sterile white lights above. "I assumed you would be the easiest kill considering how weak you look... but maybe I was mistaken? Or... am I right considering how I've already cut you?"

"What do you want?" Near scowled, hiding the gun away from Arata's sight.

"What do I want?" He scoffed at the question, as if offended he had even asked. "I thought that would be obvious by now? I want you dead! I want you to no longer be an eye sore to her! Is that so much do ask?"

"By her..." Near's eyes narrowed. "...do you mean (Y/N)?"

"Don't even say her name," he snapped back as he brandished his machete in front of him, his muscles wound taut in case Near tried to pull anything. "You don't deserve to."

The two circled each other.

Tension hung high in the air, so tangible one could almost touch it.

"So... who are you really?" Arata asked, his eyes flicking around at the grandiose space he was in. "This isn't just anything a rich kid can buy, I should know. So who are you? Government agent? Reclusive young billionaire? A fugitive?" He stopped pacing, and Near stopped with him, continuing, "You aren't a normal student, so why? Why approach (Y/N)? What do you want from her?"

"Since it's come to this, I see no reason why I must hide my identity from a dead man," Near threatened with a smirk. "I'm L. And the reason I approached (L/N)(Y/N) is because I suspect her to be Kira's Successor. Is that the answer you were looking for?"

Arata blinked, shocked.

He hadn't expected such information. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

He knew (Y/N)'s ideals aligned with Kira's.

He just didn't think it was to this extent.

"I knew I never liked you..." Arata began with a sneer of disbelief that soon melted into one of clarity, his green eyes shining with unbridled amusement. "...but the fact that you're L only proves to me that my hatred is valid. Kira was going to make this world into a place free of crime. But you and those damn police ruined such a vision. Kira should have lived instead of you. He should have won when finishing off the late L... I can't believe he lost to the likes of you."

Near's frown deepened.

His grip on the gun tightened.

I've always hypothesized that Hayato Arata must be the second Successor to Kira, but the fact that he's acting like this...

(Y/N) must have taken his notebook.

And with that, his memories.

After Light Yagami, I've come to know about the Death Note's functions, (Y/N)...

You can't fool me this time.

"Well, this just goes to show that your heroes will always disappoint you," Arata sighed as he tossed his bag away, Near's eyes watching as a black notebook slid apart from the other contents. "But I'll still avenge him, no matter what. And then... and then me and (Y/N) will finally be free from your wretched existence, L!"

Arata cackled maniacally.

Near glared at him.

He couldn't believe that he allowed a psychotic and deranged individual like Arata to kill his staff and corner him like that.

But he should've known.

(Y/N) had that type of effect on people.

"You really think (Y/N) won't have you killed as well?" Near smirked, completely at ease even though his life was being threatened, knowing that he had the upper hand since he had a gun. "She's just toying with you... using you... manipulating you."

"Shut up," Arata snarled.

"For an individual as smart as yourself, I assumed you would have been able to see through her lies..." he shook his head, as if disappointed.

"Shut up!" Arata roared, running towards him.

But Near had had enough.

Raising his arm, his finger squeezed the trigger of the gun, and a shot rang out. Arata staggered backward, his weapon clattering to the floor in a loud and resounding clang. Blood seeped through the material of his shirt and stained his hands red when he held where he had been shot.

His eyes cut into Near's.

"It didn't matter what the outcome of our little confrontation would be," Near rolled his eyes. "This is always how you would've ended up."

Rage.

Bitterness.

Resentment.

Disgust.

Such emotions welled up within Arata so fast that he almost couldn't take it, shoving the searing pain that laced throughout his entire body away so that he could bend down and pick up the machete. He didn't waste another second, pushing himself forward and tackling Near to the ground, able to catch the man off guard enough for him to stab him in the chest.

Near gasped, shock flooding his system.

He gripped Arata's arms tightly and dug his nails into his flesh, his glare dark.

He couldn't die there.

Releasing one of his hands from Arata, he fumbled around for his gun.

Arata merely dug the blade in deeper.

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To be continued...

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