More Fanfiction!
Title: Last One Standing.
Fandom: Death Note.
Pairing: NearxMello, if you squint.
Spoilers: Yup, for Mello, L, Matt...basically the end of the series.
Summary: And now, when the numbers are ticking to zero Near is the only one left. The musings of a boy who knows not to grieve.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. It depresses me.
Word Count: 513.
Near watched them fall. One by one like dominoes, like dice, like little toy soldiers. First L, with a deafening crash that echoed continents away, that shattered his successors like glass and threw them to the four winds to see where they'd land. Where and how they'd grow up, if they did at all. Matt was next, fallen to a hail of lead and contempt and suicidal loyalty to a boy, a man with a controlled sort of insanity. Mello. Mello, he was the last to fall- Near's little sacrifice. The wild card, the trump, the ace in the hole. The names- titles- were limitless, but all of them combined weren't the thing Mello wanted to be called. Mello wanted to be L, wanted the power and reassurance….
("Am I good enough yet? Has my hard work finally paid off? Can I rest a minute, please? Just slow a little before I burn out?" He might ask with those dark sad eyes that Near can't help but pity, just a little)
….that came with it. Near thought that Mello would be unhappy as L, he isn't- wasn’t, he reminded himself as he toys with the finger puppets. Mello wasn't the type to enjoy the anonymity of voice synthesizers, the chill of dark rooms and the waiting that came with the victory and the title.
He didn't have to worry about that now, not the stress of being L, not first place or last or silvergoldbronze war medals that no one would see. No, that's Near's burden, and his alone. That hurt sometimes, the hollow ache in his chest when he looks up from case files and statistics and intricate towers of matches or dice or lego with the realization that, oh, he's all alone.
He was L, he was alone and he needed to keep moving, keep his brilliant mind focused and sharp and he -needed- to keep handing out Justice with a blank face and no mercy.
Still, when the night was cold and dark and nearly silent save the humming of computers, Near would think of his sacrificial lamb with a bittersweet cocktail of anger and gratitude, and wonder whywhyWHY-
"You hated me Mello, why would you die for me?"
But even as he said it, he knew that wasn't right. Mello, his Mello- the Mello of Wammy's with his bare feet and notch carved out in the library and crude bullying to distract from damp eyes, was not so selfless. It wasn't Near Mello died for, it was the Greater Good that he bartered to. For a world without Kira was a world worth living in, and Mello had always wanted to be somebody's hero, no matter how unsung. He'd always wanted to be good enough, if only to one person.
Near would love to tell you he was that person, but he'd be lying. Mello was just another loser in this complex cat-mouse-Kira-Justice game. Not quite a pawn, perhaps a rook or a knight- important, but still expendable.
A secret? Near knows he isn't half as important as everyone believes.
The truth? It's Wammy's that's pushing pawns to their demise. He hates that his Queen has been taken and burned to ash, his Knight shot full of holes, and everything has spiraled out of his control. He is the only one left in this fight, and the crown weighs heavy on his head.