Innocence (MelloxNear) (Death Note)

Chapter 1 | Mello's Inner Rage

I'm so sorry, truly, I am. But this shipping is so goddamn cute! I put my playlist on shuffle, and "Innocence" by Halestorm, came up. So I'm writing a fic about it. And it goes a little something like this.

THIS ENTIRE FANFIC IS UNBETA'D.

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See it from the outside,
Running toward the wall.

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From a normal persons perspective, upon never visiting and having only seen the bare rough exterior, Wammy's House seemed like a regular orphanage. Though from some more advanced points of views, that accusation could very easily be proven false. For example, why when budding young couples waltz in, expecting to bring home some loving children, do they always come out empty handed? Even if they are from the most respectable families and have the cleanest criminal act records in history, do none of those kids get adopted? Its not as if evil people would walk on by and wish for a child to perform their crimes. So the question always lingered, though nobody cared enough to find out the answer.

If this was the only strange thing people knew about Wammy's, then they were far from covering the houses real secret. There was a distinct reason why hopeful foster parents were turned down, there was a reason barely anybody knew of the goings on, there was a reason these kids were protected... After all, they were the trainees to become L's successor.

Only the brightest and best were taken into Watari's home. Each individual had a past they would rather forget, but a future they were always prosper for. It was like a trail to happiness was placed before them, because with the rigerous training and tougher than tough exams, these young peoples lives could go in any direction, big or small. Though they were more than happy in Wammy's, there was always a broken history behind each of them. That's why their names, their lifestyles, their family; all replaced. Their names were banished, the only people knowing their true idenities being themselves, and in rare cases, Watari. Nicknames were the things they went under now, and it was for the best.

Inside the heavy iron gates, encrusted in slight tangents of moss, and the colossal brick structure. Along the slender corridors, where the cream walls blended with the oak that ran along the ground, melting together in the thick stream of light that emitted through the brown velvet curtains, which had been drawn back by the silver hooks that protruded from the space beside them. Through a faint layer of dust could be seen fluttering silently through the thin air, twisting and turning like strands of hair, almost like smoke. There was a room, seemingly natural until you stepped inside, where it appeared that you had found your way to heavens doorway.

Everything was white as snow.

From the plain dull wallpaper, to the smooth texture of the bed posts. From the shining, painted floor to the gargantuan light that hung dangerously low, enshrouded in dirt since it hadn't been touched in years. From the shining door handle to the minute closet, which seemed out of place in such a massive room, though the contents were slim, so it made sense. And finally, to the small boy that sat perched in the middle, pajamas hanging loosely from his petite frame. Tousled hair sat ruffled, and a bony finger twisted through a single lock of the featherly light fur, twirling it delicately. Even the boys skin was a porcelain colour, and in the dimness shone with a cheery glow, though the boy looked everything but cheery. His deep obsidion eyes were distant and bland as he continuously pieced together a white puzzle, before tipping it out again and repeating the painfully boring process.

The boy's name was Near. And it was him that was first in line to success L, should the detectives life ever end. From a distance, Near didn't seem like a likely candidate to possess the IQ of the amount of digits in Pi, or him to have never studied in him life, yet received top marks on every single test that had been thrown at him. But what everybody would know about him, was that he was withdrawn, antisocial and lonely. Not that he'd ever admit to that. He had made it through his entire life depending on himself, alone, with nobody to trouble him. So why suddenly change now? He was surrounded by this shell, one that separated from from everybody else. But deep down inside, he wanted someone who he could depend on. He wanted... A friend.