The Love Below - Chapter Four
Title: The Love Below
Characters: L/Mello/Near; this chapter is Near-centric
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,700+
Summary: Mello and Near are competing for L's title. Are they also competing for his love?
Chapter One-New Arrival
Chapter Two-Old Habits
Chapter Three-Starting Line
Author's Note:
Hello, all. So happy to have gotten this chapter out on time. I was feeling kind of uncertain about its quality as I was writing. In fact, I almost scrapped the thing entirely and waited another week to post. But in the end, I decided that any narrative progress was good progress. When this fic is over and done, I will undoubtedly go back and revise it, because I'm obsessive that way. :)
This chapter is a bit shorter than the others. I attribute it to fatigue from all the papers I've been writing lately in uni. Ugh.
Anyway, here we have Near, and the first of many challenges that L sets up for him and Mello. Let's just say, things don't kick off quite as expected... ;)
***
Chapter Four - Establishing Motive
Reveal not every secret you have to a friend, for how can you tell but that friend may hereafter become an enemy. And bring not all mischief you are able to upon an enemy, for he may one day become your friend. - Saadi
It was the day of the first meeting.
It was the day of the first meeting and Near had been thinking about it all day.
He'd waited three months for this (3 months, 6 days, 11 hours, and 12 minutes) and now it was time. Near was about as excited as he could ever remember being. He was breathing a bit more shallowly than usual and he could feel his heart beating at 115% its normal rate. Even sitting in classes, as he was now, was a challenge. Near was not like the other children; he'd never felt it difficult to remain still for long periods of time. Now, though, he felt more like a typical seven-year-old than ever before. He was constantly fidgeting in his seat, picking up his pencil only to put it down again, glancing at the clock in front of the classroom every few minutes. It was so hard to be here, knowing that this was the last class of the day and knowing that when it was over, Near would get his first challenge.
Near's mind predictably turned to exploring the possible tasks that L could set. He was so consumed in his imagination that he almost missed Mr. Winer asking him for an explanation of the existential fallacy.
By rote, Near answered, "Existential fallacies are faulty syllogisms because they involve two universal premises and a conclusion. Since universal premises are often unprovable or even unobservable, the conclusion of an existential fallacy is usually untrue." Then he returned full attention to his thoughts.
When L had brought Near to his office to announce the competition that day, Near had found Mello sitting in the chair opposite his desk and he had known something was up. Something important. And then L had opened his mouth, and even from the very first words he'd spoken, Near realized consciously what he'd understood instinctively for weeks: he and Mello were going to compete.
"Near, you are not out of the running. Mello, you are not now taking his place as the chosen one. You will both be considered for my title..."
Near didn't like to place too much emphasis on impulse reactions and emotional responses, but he couldn't help but acknowledge the feeling that Mello was going to be his first as well as his last rival. He couldn't imagine anyone more opposite him, after all. It was as though the pair of them were character foils in a storybook: the one colorless, cold, and passive, the other vibrant, hot, and relentlessly aggressive. It was fitting that they should be pitted against each other. It felt right.
Near had considered binary oppositions for literature once (actually, he'd only considered them to escape the alternative: a hopelessly transparent and mundane report on symbolism). He'd come to the conclusion that they were completely interdependent. Binary oppositions couldn't function independently of their counterparts; 'up' was not 'up' without 'down', black was not black without white.
That was why he'd asked L what was to become of the loser. Where was Near going to go when he and Mello had parted ways? He felt like the Near before the competition would not be the Near that came out of it (Heidegger came to mind). And after he'd established himself as the white to Mello's black, wouldn't he cease to be white when he finally won? How would the world know that he was white when they couldn't see the black that he might be if he were someone else? If he were like Mello?
Near thought he might be considering the issue a little too literally, but then again, he didn't particularly like the idea of losing his identity during this competition. It was good to consider all possible outcomes, so that he could prepare for them and meet them when they came.
In an abstract sort of way, Near had always feared losing his identity, losing himself. When his parents had given him up (for reasons he didn't know and didn't especially care to), his identity was the only thing he had. Near, Nate River, gifted, strange, isolated, controlled. These and other things were what made him who he was. He'd always defined himself in his own terms. And now, by L's pronouncement, that was no longer the case. He was now Near, Mello's rival and possible successor to the detective L. Identity meant a lot to Near, and he thought about the concept of understanding oneself often. It was common among orphans, he supposed, to do so. When he played with his toys, he often performed stories and small dramas to explore the origin of a particular action figure, how this doll came to be so raggedy and that one so pristine.
Near didn't want to be the puppet without an explanation. He would work to keep himself defined on his own terms, and not those of Mello, or even those of L. He would enter this game as Nate River and leave it just the same.
What was the time now? 2.43 p.m.
Two minutes. Just two more minutes until Logic class ended and he could begin his true studies: the study of becoming the next L.
***
"Establishing motive."
After speaking the words, L took a long slurp of his tea, his mouth and nose disappearing behind the cup for several moments. When he set it down again, L stared at Mello and Near expectantly, as if it were perfectly commonplace to greet one's proteges with a transitive verb phrase instead of a hello and he was waiting for them to respond in kind.
Near toyed with the idea of saying "Is important," as a reply. He settled for matching L's blank stare and waiting for him to form some semblance of a complete sentence.
Mello stood next to him, confusion painted plainly across his features. Just looking at him, Near felt his energy wane. It was sometimes tiring simply to be in same room with the boy. Mello was so public.
As if his expression wasn't demonstrative enough, Mello asked, "What about establishing motive?"
Interesting. Mello seemed to have shaken off that disturbing taciturn quality he'd had at their last meeting with L. Near had found it strange when Mello went quiet in L's presence. He was positively stentorian around everyone else.
"That is the subject of your first task." L mumbled. They had met in L's office and he was seated at his desk, as usual. After speaking, though, he came around from behind the desk to lean against its front, hands pushed into his pockets. "You will be establishing a motive for a possible suspect in a hypothetical murder case."
That was new. The closest Near had come to considering matters pertaining to real criminal cases had been passing mentions in psychology.
"Here is the situation," L said, raising a thumb to his mouth. "A 56-year-old investment banker, male, Caucasian, is a successful and well-liked member of his community. He has many friends, a wife and children. Well off financially, upper middle class. Late one night, he is found dead in his home. Three gunshot wounds to the chest. "
L's eyes rolled upwards to study the ceiling. Near thought it was likely that he was making this up entirely on the spot.
"The man's wife is found in possession of a Derringer pistol when police survey the house. Thirty-six hours after her husband's death," L went on. "the woman books a flight outside the country. The police later discover that she has withdrawn the entirety of her savings from various banks and sold all the major assets that she and her husband acquired during their marriage. By all accounts, the woman appears suspicious. Why should she run, as she is clearly doing, if she is innocent?"
L's eyes returned to their study of Mello and Near. "The problem is in establishing a motive. The couple had just celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary. They'd raised two children together, both relatively successful. Neither had ever been married before and there is no evidence of extramarital affairs on the part of either party. Also, neither party held life insurance policies of any kind. No evidence of insanity, or any mental instability at all, in the wife or in the husband. But the evidence cannot be refuted. The woman looks terribly guilty and police have no other leads. It is up to you to explain why the woman would murder her caring, successful, and well-respected husband for no apparent reason."
Mello immediately opened his mouth, looking ready to spout off ten different explanations for the homicide, but he was impeded by a raised hand from L.
"I'd like you both to come to a consensus about the motive," L said placidly. "As you discuss your ideas, I will observe. Pretend that I'm not even in the room."
Mello looked like he'd swallowed a lemon whole. "You want us to...work together?!"
Near privately agreed with his incredulity. This was a competition, wasn't it? Why should he and Mello be expected to cooperate when they were obviously working against each other? And from the very outset of the game?
But then Near saw things another way. L was known the world over for working in peculiar ways. Perhaps he was always inclined to act outside of others' expectations. Maybe it was just an element of his personality. It certainly seemed predictable that Near and Mello would assume they would have to tear each other down to bring themselves up. Perhaps L simply wanted to thwart those expectations. If so, Near thought, he was doing an excellent job.
L's mouth curled into another of his odd, small smiles. "You can nearly always learn more about a person by observing them interacting with others than you can be observing them acting alone." he said.
Near sighed inwardly. It made sense, of course. Which meant that he could not try to change L's mind without appearing unintelligent. Or at the very least, belligerent. But honestly, working with Mello would be a trial. The pair of them didn't get along on the best of days. Throwing them together on the first day of a competition that would decide both their futures was like jumping headfirst into a snake pit.
"I have great faith in each of your abilities to work together civilly." L said, as if in direct response to his thoughts. "You are in competition, yes, but that should not mean you cannot find it in yourselves to cooperate."
Mello still seemed unconvinced. The corners of his mouth were turned down in a pronounced frown, his eyebrows drawn together unhappily.
Seeing this, L turned to address him specifically.
"Do this, Mello," he said. "For me."
Near could have been imagining things...no, he wasn't. There were definite signs of embarrassment from Mello after L spoke his last words. His eyes dropped to the ground, feet shuffling uncomfortably. And was that...? It was. A redness on his cheeks.
"Sit where you like," L said then, returning to his desk chair. "You may begin whenever you wish."
Mello threw himself right onto the floor, as though he wished he could sink right down into it. Near followed him (in a much less dramatic and wholly more dignified manner) and folded himself into his usual crouch, one knee against his chest.
After several seconds of watching Mello try to make himself occupy a smaller and smaller space, it became clear that Near would have to start things off. Otherwise, who knew how long they would remain on this carpet?
"What are your ideas?" he asked, thinking it polite to give Mello the first chance to voice an opinion.
Mello didn't seem to understand the motivation behind the gesture.
"Why do you want to know?" he demanded, jerking his head up from its hiding place amongst his knees and crossed arms. "So you can point out the precise reason why they're wrong?"
Near was annoyed. Mello was determined to make this as difficult as possible, was he? Well, two could play at that game.
"Reasons," Near said.
Mello gave him a look of disgusted incomprehension. "What do you mean, 'reasons'?"
"You spoke incorrectly. The correct form of the noun in that sentence is plural. You should have said, 'precise reasons,' since the word 'ideas' was plural."
Mello let out a sound that was nothing short of an outraged snarl and launched himself at Near.
In hindsight, Near thought, as Mello's fist connected with his jaw, maybe he should have considered the consequences of raising the ire of someone who was already discomfited and was naturally volatile to boot. Understanding this, though, didn't stop Near from landing a punch or two of his own. Turn and turn about.
Suddenly, a pale hand was pushing against Near's chest, neutralizing his attempt to bury his left foot in Mello's side. Near could see a spike of black hair in his field of vision and he realized that L had inserted himself between him and Mello. Well, L wanted to see them interact, thought Near spitefully. This was what he got.
Mello was panting heavily, angrily brushing his hair back from where it had fallen into his face. It was impractical to have hair so long. What purpose could it serve? Mello was curling the fingers of both hands to push it behind his ears. Such feminine hair and mannerisms. Mello probably thought himself pretty. Near was pleased to see that a bruise was already forming on that pretty forehead.
"Perhaps I should clarify." L said, bringing himself back to the desk. "When I said 'discuss,' I meant strictly verbally. There are to be no physical negotiations here."
Perversely, Mello's cheeks burned even brighter than the last time. What was the matter with him?
"Sorry, L." Mello muttered.
"It's quite alright, Mello. You may continue."
Mello took a deep breath. He appeared to be mustering all his strength in order to prevent himself from attacking Near again and continue on in a civil manner. Near was strangely flattered that refraining from attacking him warranted such mental stamina. Mello closed eyes for a long moment, then said, with precise intonation and deliberate calm, "I thought that the murder could have been a crime of passion."
Near didn't want he and Mello to descend into 'physical negotiations' once again, but he couldn't let that explanation pass without argument. "L said there was no evidence of extramarital affairs."
Mello gave him a withering look. "Adultery isn't the only conceivable reason a couple would fight. It also isn't the only conceivable motivation for a crime of passion. The woman and her husband could have been having an argument and she could have lost her temper."
Near considered that. "I will agree," he said, "that such a scenario is possible, but it is so unlikely as to be dismissed. Why would a couple who'd been married twenty-five years suddenly have an argument in which one party lost they're temper? There's no evidence that such a thing had ever happened before."
"L didn't say that!" Mello exclaimed. "He only said there was no evidence of extramarital affairs. The police should investigate any past domestic disturbances and determine whether the couple ever had any emotionally intense disagreements."
Near was still dubious. "Even if they uncovered anything, it would be highly unlikely that any jury would condemn someone on that alone. We need something with more substance, or the police will never get a conviction at trial. The idea was creative, though."
Mello didn't look particularly grateful for the praise, but he did let the idea drop. "What explanations have you got, then?" he asked.
"I think we should revisit insanity. I know that L said there was no evidence of mental instability, but nothing else makes sense. Either the woman did have something concrete to gain from killing her husband, or she didn't, in which case, she's insane. There's nothing we know of that she could have gained from the murder. She must be unbalanced somehow."
"Not necessarily," said Mello thoughtfully. "I do agree that insanity is the only option if we can find nothing profitable for her that stems from the homicide. But what if we're approaching the question from the wrong angle?"
"How do you mean?"
"I mean, what if, instead of homicide, the guy's death was assisted suicide?" Mello looked uncomfortable saying the words, but he ploughed ahead. "From the evidence, we can only assume that the woman really was devoted to her husband and him to her. If we can't find any reason for her to want him dead, maybe it's because there isn't one. It was him that wanted him dead."
"But why would the man want to die?" Near asked. Mello's theory seemed completely counter-intuitive. "He had everything. Why should he want to commit suicide?"
"There is something suspicious about a life that perfect and normal. Either the guy really was that lucky, or he worked himself to death to get where he was. Maybe he was tired of the struggle."
"Or maybe he didn't actually struggle at all. Maybe he got what he had with dishonesty and felt guilty in his middle age." Near speculated.
Mello's eyes flashed. "Yes! And no matter how much he loved his wife, he couldn't go on with the burden of it all. But since he really did love her, he wanted her to be the one to take his life."
"And of course, she would protest at first, but in the end, she wouldn't refuse. If its what he really wanted, how could someone so devoted ever refuse?" asked Near, warming to the idea. "So she helped him. And the she ran away, apparently guiltily, but not because she was responsible."
"Exactly," Mello said, a proud grin on his face.
He and Near turned to gauge L's reaction to their idea. He was drinking from his teacup again and he returned it to the desk before speaking.
"Well done," he said. "You came together to achieve a common goal and you succeeded. Now the police and prosecuting attorney can sleep easily, knowing they have an explanation for our hypothetical suspect's deeds."
Near and Mello stood up from their places on the floor. Near wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now. Was that a dismissal? Was he supposed to leave?
"Near," said a voice to his left. Near turned and was astonished to see Mello studying him calmly. "You made some good points."
Mello was...complimenting him? What kind of sinister hallucinogenic gas had seeped into L's office? Clearly it was affecting his mental processes.
"You know," Mello continued grudgingly. "if you stopped correcting everyone and showing off and generally being annoying all the time, you might actually be a decent human being."
Near decided to take that for the backhanded compliment it was and respond in kind. "And if you could listen to other people sometimes instead of always looking for ways to surpass them, you might be a marginally tolerable human being yourself." he said.
Instead of reacting with anger, as Near had assumed he would, Mello gave him a tiny smirk. Near noticed that L was watching the proceedings thoughtfully, his tea abandoned.
"You're not bad, Near." Mello said, interrupting the short silence.
He thrust a hand out, very formally, and Near hesitated before taking it.
When their hands met, Near felt the most curious sensation of unreality. The feel of the plush carpet of L's office under his bare feet and the slight chill of the air conditioning paled in comparison to the impression of his skin next to Mello's. His palm tingled where it lay against Mello's grasp, distracting him from his surroundings and clouding his mind further.
"Well then!" L said abruptly. "I'm sure each of you will be wanting dinner."
Near thought privately that dinner was the last thing on his mind.
"I will see you both again when we next meet." L stood, slouching as usual. He walked to the door and held it open for Mello and Near to leave.
Near's thought were far from L's words, though. It was peculiar, he mused, what had transpired in L's office. Had he and Mello just come to some kind of truce? It was so strange to think about Mello as a potential friend. Mello was so popular at Wammy's. Wherever he went, practically everyone crowded around, seeking his attention. Even L, in his own way, was taken with Mello. Was this just Near finally falling under the spell, as everyone else seemed to have done ages ago?
Walking back to his dormitory, he realized he could still the burning heat from Mello's hand on his palm.
***
And so...the plot thickens. :)
And oh yes, you did read that right. I did just write a (brief) fight scene involving Near. Has that even happened in Death Note fic before? I hadn't even planned it. Suddenly the boys were like, "Attack!"
What can I say? Um, boys will be boys?
As always, thanks so much for reading. I'd love to hear any thoughts you might have about this chapter as well as predictions for the future. I know how this story will end and the plot is roughly laid out already, but hearing ideas is always fun. :)
- Magic
Characters: L/Mello/Near; this chapter is Near-centric
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,700+
Summary: Mello and Near are competing for L's title. Are they also competing for his love?
Chapter One-New Arrival
Chapter Two-Old Habits
Chapter Three-Starting Line
Author's Note:
Hello, all. So happy to have gotten this chapter out on time. I was feeling kind of uncertain about its quality as I was writing. In fact, I almost scrapped the thing entirely and waited another week to post. But in the end, I decided that any narrative progress was good progress. When this fic is over and done, I will undoubtedly go back and revise it, because I'm obsessive that way. :)
This chapter is a bit shorter than the others. I attribute it to fatigue from all the papers I've been writing lately in uni. Ugh.
Anyway, here we have Near, and the first of many challenges that L sets up for him and Mello. Let's just say, things don't kick off quite as expected... ;)
***
Chapter Four - Establishing Motive
Reveal not every secret you have to a friend, for how can you tell but that friend may hereafter become an enemy. And bring not all mischief you are able to upon an enemy, for he may one day become your friend. - Saadi
It was the day of the first meeting.
It was the day of the first meeting and Near had been thinking about it all day.
He'd waited three months for this (3 months, 6 days, 11 hours, and 12 minutes) and now it was time. Near was about as excited as he could ever remember being. He was breathing a bit more shallowly than usual and he could feel his heart beating at 115% its normal rate. Even sitting in classes, as he was now, was a challenge. Near was not like the other children; he'd never felt it difficult to remain still for long periods of time. Now, though, he felt more like a typical seven-year-old than ever before. He was constantly fidgeting in his seat, picking up his pencil only to put it down again, glancing at the clock in front of the classroom every few minutes. It was so hard to be here, knowing that this was the last class of the day and knowing that when it was over, Near would get his first challenge.
Near's mind predictably turned to exploring the possible tasks that L could set. He was so consumed in his imagination that he almost missed Mr. Winer asking him for an explanation of the existential fallacy.
By rote, Near answered, "Existential fallacies are faulty syllogisms because they involve two universal premises and a conclusion. Since universal premises are often unprovable or even unobservable, the conclusion of an existential fallacy is usually untrue." Then he returned full attention to his thoughts.
When L had brought Near to his office to announce the competition that day, Near had found Mello sitting in the chair opposite his desk and he had known something was up. Something important. And then L had opened his mouth, and even from the very first words he'd spoken, Near realized consciously what he'd understood instinctively for weeks: he and Mello were going to compete.
"Near, you are not out of the running. Mello, you are not now taking his place as the chosen one. You will both be considered for my title..."
Near didn't like to place too much emphasis on impulse reactions and emotional responses, but he couldn't help but acknowledge the feeling that Mello was going to be his first as well as his last rival. He couldn't imagine anyone more opposite him, after all. It was as though the pair of them were character foils in a storybook: the one colorless, cold, and passive, the other vibrant, hot, and relentlessly aggressive. It was fitting that they should be pitted against each other. It felt right.
Near had considered binary oppositions for literature once (actually, he'd only considered them to escape the alternative: a hopelessly transparent and mundane report on symbolism). He'd come to the conclusion that they were completely interdependent. Binary oppositions couldn't function independently of their counterparts; 'up' was not 'up' without 'down', black was not black without white.
That was why he'd asked L what was to become of the loser. Where was Near going to go when he and Mello had parted ways? He felt like the Near before the competition would not be the Near that came out of it (Heidegger came to mind). And after he'd established himself as the white to Mello's black, wouldn't he cease to be white when he finally won? How would the world know that he was white when they couldn't see the black that he might be if he were someone else? If he were like Mello?
Near thought he might be considering the issue a little too literally, but then again, he didn't particularly like the idea of losing his identity during this competition. It was good to consider all possible outcomes, so that he could prepare for them and meet them when they came.
In an abstract sort of way, Near had always feared losing his identity, losing himself. When his parents had given him up (for reasons he didn't know and didn't especially care to), his identity was the only thing he had. Near, Nate River, gifted, strange, isolated, controlled. These and other things were what made him who he was. He'd always defined himself in his own terms. And now, by L's pronouncement, that was no longer the case. He was now Near, Mello's rival and possible successor to the detective L. Identity meant a lot to Near, and he thought about the concept of understanding oneself often. It was common among orphans, he supposed, to do so. When he played with his toys, he often performed stories and small dramas to explore the origin of a particular action figure, how this doll came to be so raggedy and that one so pristine.
Near didn't want to be the puppet without an explanation. He would work to keep himself defined on his own terms, and not those of Mello, or even those of L. He would enter this game as Nate River and leave it just the same.
What was the time now? 2.43 p.m.
Two minutes. Just two more minutes until Logic class ended and he could begin his true studies: the study of becoming the next L.
***
"Establishing motive."
After speaking the words, L took a long slurp of his tea, his mouth and nose disappearing behind the cup for several moments. When he set it down again, L stared at Mello and Near expectantly, as if it were perfectly commonplace to greet one's proteges with a transitive verb phrase instead of a hello and he was waiting for them to respond in kind.
Near toyed with the idea of saying "Is important," as a reply. He settled for matching L's blank stare and waiting for him to form some semblance of a complete sentence.
Mello stood next to him, confusion painted plainly across his features. Just looking at him, Near felt his energy wane. It was sometimes tiring simply to be in same room with the boy. Mello was so public.
As if his expression wasn't demonstrative enough, Mello asked, "What about establishing motive?"
Interesting. Mello seemed to have shaken off that disturbing taciturn quality he'd had at their last meeting with L. Near had found it strange when Mello went quiet in L's presence. He was positively stentorian around everyone else.
"That is the subject of your first task." L mumbled. They had met in L's office and he was seated at his desk, as usual. After speaking, though, he came around from behind the desk to lean against its front, hands pushed into his pockets. "You will be establishing a motive for a possible suspect in a hypothetical murder case."
That was new. The closest Near had come to considering matters pertaining to real criminal cases had been passing mentions in psychology.
"Here is the situation," L said, raising a thumb to his mouth. "A 56-year-old investment banker, male, Caucasian, is a successful and well-liked member of his community. He has many friends, a wife and children. Well off financially, upper middle class. Late one night, he is found dead in his home. Three gunshot wounds to the chest. "
L's eyes rolled upwards to study the ceiling. Near thought it was likely that he was making this up entirely on the spot.
"The man's wife is found in possession of a Derringer pistol when police survey the house. Thirty-six hours after her husband's death," L went on. "the woman books a flight outside the country. The police later discover that she has withdrawn the entirety of her savings from various banks and sold all the major assets that she and her husband acquired during their marriage. By all accounts, the woman appears suspicious. Why should she run, as she is clearly doing, if she is innocent?"
L's eyes returned to their study of Mello and Near. "The problem is in establishing a motive. The couple had just celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary. They'd raised two children together, both relatively successful. Neither had ever been married before and there is no evidence of extramarital affairs on the part of either party. Also, neither party held life insurance policies of any kind. No evidence of insanity, or any mental instability at all, in the wife or in the husband. But the evidence cannot be refuted. The woman looks terribly guilty and police have no other leads. It is up to you to explain why the woman would murder her caring, successful, and well-respected husband for no apparent reason."
Mello immediately opened his mouth, looking ready to spout off ten different explanations for the homicide, but he was impeded by a raised hand from L.
"I'd like you both to come to a consensus about the motive," L said placidly. "As you discuss your ideas, I will observe. Pretend that I'm not even in the room."
Mello looked like he'd swallowed a lemon whole. "You want us to...work together?!"
Near privately agreed with his incredulity. This was a competition, wasn't it? Why should he and Mello be expected to cooperate when they were obviously working against each other? And from the very outset of the game?
But then Near saw things another way. L was known the world over for working in peculiar ways. Perhaps he was always inclined to act outside of others' expectations. Maybe it was just an element of his personality. It certainly seemed predictable that Near and Mello would assume they would have to tear each other down to bring themselves up. Perhaps L simply wanted to thwart those expectations. If so, Near thought, he was doing an excellent job.
L's mouth curled into another of his odd, small smiles. "You can nearly always learn more about a person by observing them interacting with others than you can be observing them acting alone." he said.
Near sighed inwardly. It made sense, of course. Which meant that he could not try to change L's mind without appearing unintelligent. Or at the very least, belligerent. But honestly, working with Mello would be a trial. The pair of them didn't get along on the best of days. Throwing them together on the first day of a competition that would decide both their futures was like jumping headfirst into a snake pit.
"I have great faith in each of your abilities to work together civilly." L said, as if in direct response to his thoughts. "You are in competition, yes, but that should not mean you cannot find it in yourselves to cooperate."
Mello still seemed unconvinced. The corners of his mouth were turned down in a pronounced frown, his eyebrows drawn together unhappily.
Seeing this, L turned to address him specifically.
"Do this, Mello," he said. "For me."
Near could have been imagining things...no, he wasn't. There were definite signs of embarrassment from Mello after L spoke his last words. His eyes dropped to the ground, feet shuffling uncomfortably. And was that...? It was. A redness on his cheeks.
"Sit where you like," L said then, returning to his desk chair. "You may begin whenever you wish."
Mello threw himself right onto the floor, as though he wished he could sink right down into it. Near followed him (in a much less dramatic and wholly more dignified manner) and folded himself into his usual crouch, one knee against his chest.
After several seconds of watching Mello try to make himself occupy a smaller and smaller space, it became clear that Near would have to start things off. Otherwise, who knew how long they would remain on this carpet?
"What are your ideas?" he asked, thinking it polite to give Mello the first chance to voice an opinion.
Mello didn't seem to understand the motivation behind the gesture.
"Why do you want to know?" he demanded, jerking his head up from its hiding place amongst his knees and crossed arms. "So you can point out the precise reason why they're wrong?"
Near was annoyed. Mello was determined to make this as difficult as possible, was he? Well, two could play at that game.
"Reasons," Near said.
Mello gave him a look of disgusted incomprehension. "What do you mean, 'reasons'?"
"You spoke incorrectly. The correct form of the noun in that sentence is plural. You should have said, 'precise reasons,' since the word 'ideas' was plural."
Mello let out a sound that was nothing short of an outraged snarl and launched himself at Near.
In hindsight, Near thought, as Mello's fist connected with his jaw, maybe he should have considered the consequences of raising the ire of someone who was already discomfited and was naturally volatile to boot. Understanding this, though, didn't stop Near from landing a punch or two of his own. Turn and turn about.
Suddenly, a pale hand was pushing against Near's chest, neutralizing his attempt to bury his left foot in Mello's side. Near could see a spike of black hair in his field of vision and he realized that L had inserted himself between him and Mello. Well, L wanted to see them interact, thought Near spitefully. This was what he got.
Mello was panting heavily, angrily brushing his hair back from where it had fallen into his face. It was impractical to have hair so long. What purpose could it serve? Mello was curling the fingers of both hands to push it behind his ears. Such feminine hair and mannerisms. Mello probably thought himself pretty. Near was pleased to see that a bruise was already forming on that pretty forehead.
"Perhaps I should clarify." L said, bringing himself back to the desk. "When I said 'discuss,' I meant strictly verbally. There are to be no physical negotiations here."
Perversely, Mello's cheeks burned even brighter than the last time. What was the matter with him?
"Sorry, L." Mello muttered.
"It's quite alright, Mello. You may continue."
Mello took a deep breath. He appeared to be mustering all his strength in order to prevent himself from attacking Near again and continue on in a civil manner. Near was strangely flattered that refraining from attacking him warranted such mental stamina. Mello closed eyes for a long moment, then said, with precise intonation and deliberate calm, "I thought that the murder could have been a crime of passion."
Near didn't want he and Mello to descend into 'physical negotiations' once again, but he couldn't let that explanation pass without argument. "L said there was no evidence of extramarital affairs."
Mello gave him a withering look. "Adultery isn't the only conceivable reason a couple would fight. It also isn't the only conceivable motivation for a crime of passion. The woman and her husband could have been having an argument and she could have lost her temper."
Near considered that. "I will agree," he said, "that such a scenario is possible, but it is so unlikely as to be dismissed. Why would a couple who'd been married twenty-five years suddenly have an argument in which one party lost they're temper? There's no evidence that such a thing had ever happened before."
"L didn't say that!" Mello exclaimed. "He only said there was no evidence of extramarital affairs. The police should investigate any past domestic disturbances and determine whether the couple ever had any emotionally intense disagreements."
Near was still dubious. "Even if they uncovered anything, it would be highly unlikely that any jury would condemn someone on that alone. We need something with more substance, or the police will never get a conviction at trial. The idea was creative, though."
Mello didn't look particularly grateful for the praise, but he did let the idea drop. "What explanations have you got, then?" he asked.
"I think we should revisit insanity. I know that L said there was no evidence of mental instability, but nothing else makes sense. Either the woman did have something concrete to gain from killing her husband, or she didn't, in which case, she's insane. There's nothing we know of that she could have gained from the murder. She must be unbalanced somehow."
"Not necessarily," said Mello thoughtfully. "I do agree that insanity is the only option if we can find nothing profitable for her that stems from the homicide. But what if we're approaching the question from the wrong angle?"
"How do you mean?"
"I mean, what if, instead of homicide, the guy's death was assisted suicide?" Mello looked uncomfortable saying the words, but he ploughed ahead. "From the evidence, we can only assume that the woman really was devoted to her husband and him to her. If we can't find any reason for her to want him dead, maybe it's because there isn't one. It was him that wanted him dead."
"But why would the man want to die?" Near asked. Mello's theory seemed completely counter-intuitive. "He had everything. Why should he want to commit suicide?"
"There is something suspicious about a life that perfect and normal. Either the guy really was that lucky, or he worked himself to death to get where he was. Maybe he was tired of the struggle."
"Or maybe he didn't actually struggle at all. Maybe he got what he had with dishonesty and felt guilty in his middle age." Near speculated.
Mello's eyes flashed. "Yes! And no matter how much he loved his wife, he couldn't go on with the burden of it all. But since he really did love her, he wanted her to be the one to take his life."
"And of course, she would protest at first, but in the end, she wouldn't refuse. If its what he really wanted, how could someone so devoted ever refuse?" asked Near, warming to the idea. "So she helped him. And the she ran away, apparently guiltily, but not because she was responsible."
"Exactly," Mello said, a proud grin on his face.
He and Near turned to gauge L's reaction to their idea. He was drinking from his teacup again and he returned it to the desk before speaking.
"Well done," he said. "You came together to achieve a common goal and you succeeded. Now the police and prosecuting attorney can sleep easily, knowing they have an explanation for our hypothetical suspect's deeds."
Near and Mello stood up from their places on the floor. Near wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now. Was that a dismissal? Was he supposed to leave?
"Near," said a voice to his left. Near turned and was astonished to see Mello studying him calmly. "You made some good points."
Mello was...complimenting him? What kind of sinister hallucinogenic gas had seeped into L's office? Clearly it was affecting his mental processes.
"You know," Mello continued grudgingly. "if you stopped correcting everyone and showing off and generally being annoying all the time, you might actually be a decent human being."
Near decided to take that for the backhanded compliment it was and respond in kind. "And if you could listen to other people sometimes instead of always looking for ways to surpass them, you might be a marginally tolerable human being yourself." he said.
Instead of reacting with anger, as Near had assumed he would, Mello gave him a tiny smirk. Near noticed that L was watching the proceedings thoughtfully, his tea abandoned.
"You're not bad, Near." Mello said, interrupting the short silence.
He thrust a hand out, very formally, and Near hesitated before taking it.
When their hands met, Near felt the most curious sensation of unreality. The feel of the plush carpet of L's office under his bare feet and the slight chill of the air conditioning paled in comparison to the impression of his skin next to Mello's. His palm tingled where it lay against Mello's grasp, distracting him from his surroundings and clouding his mind further.
"Well then!" L said abruptly. "I'm sure each of you will be wanting dinner."
Near thought privately that dinner was the last thing on his mind.
"I will see you both again when we next meet." L stood, slouching as usual. He walked to the door and held it open for Mello and Near to leave.
Near's thought were far from L's words, though. It was peculiar, he mused, what had transpired in L's office. Had he and Mello just come to some kind of truce? It was so strange to think about Mello as a potential friend. Mello was so popular at Wammy's. Wherever he went, practically everyone crowded around, seeking his attention. Even L, in his own way, was taken with Mello. Was this just Near finally falling under the spell, as everyone else seemed to have done ages ago?
Walking back to his dormitory, he realized he could still the burning heat from Mello's hand on his palm.
***
And so...the plot thickens. :)
And oh yes, you did read that right. I did just write a (brief) fight scene involving Near. Has that even happened in Death Note fic before? I hadn't even planned it. Suddenly the boys were like, "Attack!"
What can I say? Um, boys will be boys?
As always, thanks so much for reading. I'd love to hear any thoughts you might have about this chapter as well as predictions for the future. I know how this story will end and the plot is roughly laid out already, but hearing ideas is always fun. :)
- Magic