[Death Note Fanfic] What We Haven't Done

What we haven't done

Near liked night. Darkness. It surrounded him, embraced him. It made Near unaware of his loneliness, how lonesome he was. Just him and his dark world and his toys.

Near liked the moon. It's dim but gentle, still bright enough to use. He didn't need a 50-watt-light-bulb to solve his puzzle. He found that somethings were unnecessary. Also, the sun made his eyes hurt.

Near liked rain. Rain soaked him. Rain washed away the taints. It washed away his pains, his tears, the past that he wanted to forget. After the rain, there was nothing left but the dirt under your feet. Everything was left behind, and he was refreshed.

Near liked winter. Snow and cold. It numbed him, numed all the sadnesses, all the emotions. Emotions are weakness, he kept telling himself. In winter, everything become lifeless. Just like his soul, deadly, and nobody cared.

Near liked white. Pure, innocent and untainted. White reflected nothing, blank. White go unnoticed, like a ghost. No one could harm a ghost. People can't hurt something they don't see or notice. Beside, Near was an albino.

Then why did he keep thinking about a certain hot-headed blonde? A blonde who was full of colours and passion and life and emotions, a blonde who always 'act-before-think'?

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Mello liked day. Everyday he woke up, he knew that he hadn't been died in his sleep. Another day with hope, with competition, with outdoor activities, with his friends and chocolate.

Mello liked the sun. It's so bright, full of warmth and vitamin D. The beautiful hues, the changes of the sky and the horizon from dawn till dusk. Beside, how could he play outside or read without the sun, duh?

Mello liked wind. Wind is swift and powerful, yet unpredictable, always changes its shift, just like his moods. The way it blowed his hair and cooled him down whenever he became 'too-emotional'. The feeling of freedom it brought him.

Mello liked summer. Why? Because it has wind and sun and day is longer than night. Everything's full of life: leaves, birds, grasses,... And summer was the time when Wammy's children could have their treatment for their industriousness, and to Mello: chocolate.

Mello liked black. The colour of intelligence and mystery. But at the same time, black reflected his mood, his miserable soul, covered the dark past, blended with every taint.

Then how could the image of a certain albino always cloud his mind? A boy who always wore a blank, emotionless mask, a boy who was always indifferent about everything?

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Near found the blonde's alias quite...amusing. Mello wasn't so 'mellow'. Near knew (thought) that Mello hated him with all his heart. Mello beat him like everyday. Mello called him a freak, a bastard, a little piece of trash, an asshole, a twit,...(just name it). Mello broke his toys, snatched his books, hid a piece of his puzzle,...

...and Mello made him confused...

Near couldn't help himself. Mello fascinated the younger teen: how he always studied so hard in order to beat Near in every test, how he showed his emotions without hesitation,... Near wondered: what promoted the blonde to act, why he hated Near so much,... Near could tell that L's tittle wasn't the only reason. There was something else, especially when their eyes locked, but Near couldn't figure out. Sometime, Near would stare at Mello's jaw line, his straight hair, his fierce ocean blue eyes, his smile when he got the chocolate,...

And this odd feeling just grew over time...

Emotion is something foreign to Near, especially this one. He couldn't handle such a strong feeling. Beside, Mello couldn't and wouldn't... That's why Near did the only thing he could think of: remaining his first spot, getting a perfect score in every test so Mello would always see him...

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Why the fuck did that albino call himself 'Near'? 'Near', yeah right. Near, why are you so far? Mello bet that even L couldn't understand the boy. I hate Near, Mello kept telling himself. The twit was always better than him. No matter how hard he tried, he was still second best. And the kid just playing with his toys, what the hell? He made Mello's blood boiled. How could Near be so apathetic when he received his result? How could Near be so calm when Mello punched him in the face?

...Yet Near was driving Mello insane...

There's something about Near's flawless skin, his snowy white hair, the curves of his pale cheeks, and in particular, those deep, deep grey eyes that you can easily lost in them. Sometime, Mello could swear that there was something indecipherable in those abysses. Near wasn't emotionless. Near was complex, unreadable. What was he thinking? What was his past? Had he ever cried or smiled, for real?

Over time, Mello realised that he'd been in denial...

Mello think that Near wouldn't, couldn't (or worse, didn't want to) understand his feeling, after all the things he'd done to the younger boy. He couldn't find the courage to tell him. That's why Mello chose to watch Near silently. That's why Mello always studied so hard: to beat Near, to prove himself to Near, to made Near noticed him.

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THUD!

His heart throbbed painfully. That bitch. She must had written his name in one piece of paper. There's nothing Mello could do now. This is the end.

Near...

All Mello could think of at the moment was the white-haired boy. Hah, even now, that boy still driving him insane.

His silky hair...

His soft lips...

His delicate fingers...

His complex mind...

His peculiar eyes...

With one last breath, Mello whispered his name...

And then, black.

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Near was sitting in the middle of the SPK's Headquarters, his hand clutching tightly a handmade action figure.

He could smell chocolate...

He could smell the scent of leather...

He felt the pain...

He felt something broken deep inside him...

He felt an unfamiliar feeling on his cheeks and in his eyes...

Near touched his cheek...

It's warm and wet...

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In the end, they both regretted not telling each other what they should had told each other...

FIN.