To the End

Chapter Three

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The next few weeks went by uneventfully, but it certainly wasn't boring. I even forgot all about my birthday (which was four days after my arrival) because I was too busy learning about everything here. I slowly got used to the rhythm of Wammy's. There was a kind of routine here, and it was hard work to keep up at first. Breakfast was at eight; if you missed it, too bad. Then classes started at nine and, with a lunch hour from noon to one, ended at 3:30 pm. After that we were free to do whatever we pleased, but it pretty much meant we had to study.

I understood fairly quickly that the kids here were pretty much left to themselves when it came to organizing their time and homework, but that was perfectly fine by me.

The first week of my stay at Wammy's I actually worked very hard on my tests, heeding Mello's advice, but found out that I didn't actually need to do so. I was naturally good at most of the classes, and so after receiving several really good grades, I relaxed a bit. Mainly because some of those grades had been better than Mello's and I didn't want him to get mad. So instead, I let loose a little and resorted to helping Mello out with his pranks in class.

I quickly became well-known as a trouble-maker, but I hadn't received any detentions yet at least. Sometimes I guess I felt a little guilty because Quillish Wammy had been so nice to bring me here and I felt like pulling stupid pranks and deliberately lowering my grades under Mello's were poor ways to repay him.

Mello and I would make noises and say stupid things in class, steal food from the kitchens, and I kept watch while Mello stole stuff like library books and candy from other kids' rooms, but nothing much worse than that. Stealing library books from people was always fun because the other kid was always blamed for losing the book. We were pretty stupid for thinking those kinds of pranks were cool, but that was our life for a while. Mello and I were friends, but neither of us would ever say it out loud. We were unofficial friends. …That always made me smile.

It wasn't until I was already well into my second month at Wammy's that I finally met Near.

The first time I saw him was actually during my second day at the orphanage, but I didn't speak to him on that occasion. Mello was showing me the rafters in the living room where A had hung himself, when I noticed a small boy over in a corner of the room. He was dressed in pyjamas and socks that were as pale white as his skin. His hair was also white, slightly curly and messy, about ear length. I don't think he noticed me watching him play with his model airplane, but I still whispered when I asked Mello about him.

"Hey…" I nudged the blond boy carefully, "Who's the ghost?" And I shoved one of my thumbs in the white boy's direction for a short moment, just enough to let Mello see who I was asking about.

Mello roared with laughter, causing everyone around us to turn around in surprise. The white boy didn't even twitch, however.

"Oh, him!" Mello exclaimed, dropping all sense of seriousness suddenly, "That's Near. I told ya he was weird didn't I?"

I personally didn't think he was exceptionally weird, but I didn't let Mello know this. Let him hate Near in peace. However, my opinion changed a little when the boy looked up at me. It was sudden, and made me uncomfortable. He had cold eyes, like he didn't care about anything. I mean, Mello didn't care about much and was pretty mean, but at least his eyes had a certain livelihood to them. Unlike Near's eyes, which were calmly calculating, and intrusive. I looked away a moment later, a little embarrassed. "He's a freak." Mello was busy telling me. "I guess we're all little freaks here anyway, but we're not like him. We're the cool kind of freaks."

Those words didn't do much to reassure me though. I could appreciate what Mello was trying to say, but I personally thought that the three of us – Mello, Near and I – were very much alike. It was strange to me, looking at Near play in silence in the corner, completely shut off from the world around him. He was exactly like I used to be.

I still wonder to this day if Near would have turned out differently if I'd only cared to be more of a friend to him. Ah, well… can't change the past I suppose…

Now, back to the day I actually met Near… It was a warm evening in the beginning of May, and I was outside playing Pokémon Red (I had by then managed to steal enough money from places to buy a new game for my Game Boy), when I heard someone with shuffling feet approaching. By the time I looked up, Near was already standing directly in front of me. We were both silent for several moments, but then I got bored of staring back at him, not to mention a little creeped out, so I went back to my game.

"I've been watching you, Matt." Near said in that small, airy voice of his, clearly unruffled by my display of disinterest. His statement seemed to me like a strange thing to say to somebody you've just met, but I didn't let it affect me. "Yeah? So, what's up, Near?" I asked him, to see if he would relax a little. He didn't seem comfortable speaking to me. I had only ever heard him speak when he answered teachers' questions in class, but those were rare occasions because Mello always tried the best he could to raise his hand before Near, even if he didn't know what to say yet. This often resulted in a lot of spluttering on Mello's part.

I felt Near sit down in front of me, so I saved my game and closed it before putting it down at my side. From this close up, Near's greyish eyes were less cold and more human. It certainly made me feel a little more relaxed in his presence, anyway. I sat more comfortably and smiled at him. The thought occurred to me that if Mello were to stumble upon us, he'd probably punch me. In any case, this was my chance to understand who Near was exactly. To understand why Mello hated him so much.

"I'll get strait to the point, Matt." Near was twirling a stray lock of his curly white hair as he spoke, looking anywhere but into my eyes. And I thought I was bad at socializing… "Whatever things Mello has told you about me are probably true and I'll let you be the judge of that. But I've been observing you and you're quite good. I think you could even surpass Mello if you tried hard enough." His eyes flickered to mine for a brief instant, but his meaning was clear.

"I don't think so." I told him promptly, lying through my teeth. "And I am working hard."

Glancing over at my Game Boy, Near smiled. "I see."

I didn't quite know if that was supposed to be sarcastic or not. And I didn't like his smile. It wasn't happy, or warm.

"I am not your enemy, Matt." Near told me, "Neither am I Mello's for that matter. You and I both know his feelings on the matter, but outside of that… Where do your intentions lie?" I remained silent at this. It was obvious he was trying to make me say something that could be used against me and I refused to give him any such satisfaction.

"I believe you if you say you're not my enemy now, but what about when the time comes for L to choose a successor?" Deliberately, I avoided having to answer his question. My biggest priority was trying figuring out what his weak spots were. I didn't yet know how he felt about L. All I did know was that he had beaten Mello in the big test last year.

"I could care less about L himself, Matt, if you must know. I've never met him, so how can I say how I feel about him? All I care about are my grades, and solving things. That should be enough."

"Solving things? Like those puzzles you're always doing?" I frowned. Was life nothing more than a puzzle to him?

To further prove Near's incompetence when it came to social interaction; he got up and left without saying answering me. I watched him slouch away, waiting until he turned a corner so I could get back to my game, but he stopped with his back still turned to me. "I trust we can keep the matters of this conversation between ourselves?" His question floated around in my mind for a moment and I only gratified it with an answer once he had already started walking away.

"Whatever you say, Near."

He didn't respond, and I watched him disappear through a door before shaking my head and turning on my Game Boy.

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It was mid-May when something very important happened to me.

There was a big test coming up, and everybody knew it. Even though the weather was getting warmer, and the days were longer, all the kids were shut up inside, studying. All the kids that took this test seriously of course.

So naturally, while I was lying on my bed playing Pokémon, Mello was scribbling away furiously at the desk next to me. I didn't like Mello when he was studying; every little thing got on his nerves.

"GODAMMIT MATT, STOP CLICKING!" He would roar, when I sometimes got too fervent with my video game. I had the intelligence not to reply, but I still stopped playing for a while, before risking it again. I knew I probably should be studying, too… But the only reason Mello was studying so hard was so he could beat Near. This had never been said out loud – nobody was foolish enough to mention it – but Near could easily get a high score on that test with little to no studying, whereas Mello had to study hard to get there. Still though, I didn't really care if I got a great score or not. This wasn't like it was a video game. Because if we did have to beat a video game, even an impossibly difficult video game, then I would have succeeded L in an instant.

Sadly, the test consisted of a collection of questions about everything we had learned during the year, as well as general, cultural knowledge questions and some very complicated puzzles. I think I've never seen Mello read as many books in his life as when he was studying for that one test, honestly. Indifferent though I was to this exam, I still studied somewhat, but was careful to do so at times when Mello wasn't around however; alone in the library, for example… It became clear that if Mello saw me studying he'd quickly hurry over and force me to test his knowledge on various things, which got infuriating in the long run. Not only did Mello get very proud when he answered correctly, he would also get very mad at himself when he his answers were wrong.

An angry Mello was a scary sight I didn't want to witness ever again.

And so the days before the test seeped away like sand through our fingers and, before we knew it, it was Sunday and the exam was tomorrow.

Mello started acting crazy that very morning, beginning by locking me outside our shared room before I was even awake. I awoke from being trampled by a couple of seven year olds who were running down the corridor, oblivious to the fact that a big exam was taking place the following day and that some people needed to rest. I groaned, wondering what the hell I was doing lying on the floor with my ass in the air (I suppose Mello thought he was funny), in my sleepwear, with barely a thin blanket for comfort.

I banged on the door a few times, even threatened to go get Roger, but Mello probably knew it was bluff. I hated Roger as much as he did.

So I spent most of the morning loitering in the dining room until all the other kids were gone, taking a stroll in the grounds since I didn't have my Game Boy with me, and just generally slouching around in the House. By the time I'd visited the whole building several times, it was already 5 o' clock (it was nearly impossible to get bored in this place) and I decided I'd be better off doing something constructive. So I went to the library to get a book to read. I should have picked something to study I guess, but I was feeling lazy. Plus, the library was very crowded from students all my age and older, trying to do some last-minute work before exams…

Therefore I grabbed a book I liked and made my way to one of the many small living rooms of Wammy's House.

I peered into each one I passed until I found one that looked unoccupied. Clutching Tales of the Unexpected by Roald Dahl, I walked over to a plush couch and settled in. No sooner had I begun reading did a voice pull me out of my trance:

"Oooh, Roald Dahl. One of my childhood favourites!"

The voice had obviously come from grownup, but it sounded oddly childish to me. I spun around and saw someone drinking tea at a small table the far side of the room, across from me. How I hadn't noticed him upon entering I didn't know, until I saw that he was folding a rather large newspaper. He must've been hidden behind it, sneaky weirdo.

Because he was a real weirdo, in every sense of the word. First off, he was sitting with his knees pulled up, balancing himself on his heels, like a child. His hair was jet black and even messier than mine, thrown about in every direction as if he'd just rolled out of bed. Not that this seemed very likely however since his eyes were wide and staring, with such dark and heavy bags under them that I wondered for a moment if they hadn't been drawn with a felt-tip pen. The man was dressed in a plain white shirt with long sleeves, as well as faded, worn-out blue jeans which must've been uncomfortable to wear at this temperature and he was holding a fork by the tip, using only his index and his thumb as if the utensil were poisonous. His other, long and rather bony, hand was curled up by the side of his face with the thumb resting against his bottom lip. I saw he was having strawberry cake with his tea and that he was keeping the strawberry for last.

If the man noticed I was staring, he didn't react to it. I had a strong impression that he probably didn't notice many things. He obviously wasn't a student here, no; he was much too old for that. The oldest Wammy's kids were only about seventeen. Maybe he was a friend of Quillish Wammy's, then? I dismissed that idea, too. It was frankly laughable to imagine the classy, gentlemanly Wammy sitting at a table, smoking a pipe and discussing today's economy with this hunched, dark young man. Of course, I had no idea whether or not Quillish Wammy actually smoked a pipe, but that's just the image that came to my mind.

"You're not a student here?" I shot out at the man, though it actually didn't sound much like a question.

"No," sighed the stranger. "Not anymore." This statement was more than enough to make me get up. I crossed the room and sat on the chair opposite him. He was smiling at me slightly while he pushed his strawberry around his plate with his fork. It was rather impressive the way he could manoeuvre that fork with such little use of his arm, with the way he was holding it.

"Who are you?" I asked, with an eyebrow raised behind my goggles.

The stranger did not hesitate, but rather looked around furtively. He then brought a hand up to his face and whispered to me behind it. "I am L."

I nearly lost my hold on my book just then, only just keeping it from falling to the carpeted floor. I set it safely upon the table. "You are? But… I… wow, you're…"

"Not what you expected?" L finished my statement for me.

"So young." I said, lamely. Maybe L wasn't aware of his strange appearance, and I didn't want to offend him. But it also crossed my mind that perhaps this wasn't even the real L, and that I was being too naïve.

"And I know who you are." He told me, "You're Matt, aren't you?" All the doubts I had about him being L disappeared right then. "Quillish keeps me informed." He explained.

I didn't know what to say, for I certainly hadn't been expecting to find L sipping tea in an otherwise deserted room during exam season. Wait… now that I thought it over, maybe it made sense that L would hang around Wammy's from time to time, and what better place to hang out undisturbed than during exam week? And now that I was actually face-to-face with L, I felt more than a little embarrassed about my choice of reading. I instantly felt bad about thinking he was a weirdo, too. All these mixed emotions must've shown on my face, because L was amused now. He chuckled.

"Would you like some cake, too, Matt?" He asked gently, and I nodded without giving it much thought. I think if he'd asked me to go jump off the roof just now I would probably have complied.

No matter, though, because now L was calling out gently in some strange language; "Quillish?Pourrais-tu apporter deux autres tranches de gâteau, s'il-te-plaît?" I heard a muffled voice reply something in that same language I didn't understand. Moments later, Mr. Wammy entered the room with a tray, and two big slices of cake upon it. He smiled at me while placing the tray on the table and asked; "Anything else?" To which L replied "No thank you."

L helped himself to one of the new slices of cake after popping his strawberry into his mouth and looked back at me while he chewed. "I was speaking French there, do excuse me. Wammy and I have just returned from Lyon." I was confused by this. What was L trying to do by telling me this? Was he going to brag about being a polyglot, because that fact wouldn't surprise me in the least…

"Cool. I'm from Chicago." I told him, deciding I probably didn't have to lie to L. He considered me a moment, then went back to his cake. "You said you liked Roald Dahl," I went on, quite determined to have a conversation with him, "Which of his books do you like best?"

I was hoping he wouldn't say Matilda, which was about a child genius. "I'd have to say Danny the Champion of the World." He told me with a strange smile. It was weird the way he often looked up towards the ceiling as he spoke, as if cobwebs and rafters were incredibly interesting to him.

"I liked that one too." I said, barely concealing my grin, now.

"What else do you like, Matt?" He asked me, actually sounding genuinely interested.

My first reflex was to respond; "Pokémon." The word slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it, but it was the truth I guess. L didn't make fun of me. In fact, he seemed to sit up a little.

"It's nice that you have such a strong interest in something," L commented, while his dark, unblinking eyes stared into mine. "What's your favourite Pokémon?" This conversation was getting stranger by the second. If anybody this morning had told me I'd end up eating cake and discussing Pokémon with L today, I'd have told them to go get their head checked.

Nevertheless, I answered. "Charizard is my favourite. I nearly always pick Charmander as a starter." My eyes were wide in disbelief right now as L nodded and went on to say that he preferred Squirtle. It was possible that L didn't actually play Pokémon, only that he was knowledgeable enough about it so that he could humour me, but I didn't care in the least. This discussion went on for a little while longer anyway, until I asked a new question; "So what are you doing here anyway, L?"

L looked like he hadn't expected this question, which was strange, but after swallowing his cake, he answered me. "I grew up here… I come to check how things are going from time to time. Please keep my identity to yourself for now, though. Others have seen me here too, but for all they know, I'm of no importance."

His was being rather flippant about all this in my opinion, so I questioned him still. "Why did you tell me who you are then?"

A sigh came from L, and his eyes wandered around the room briefly before he answered this time. "You haven't been here long Matt, yet you already have a big presence in this House. There's great potential in you." These words were so flattering coming from L that I was at a loss. He went on; "I have not told Mello or Near who I am either, although they have seen me around quite a few times, for the sole reason that they have never asked me who I am. You asked, so I answered you, that's all there is to it."

I nodded, and finished the rest of my cake.

"Speaking of which, don't you have an exam tomorrow? You should go back and study." L told me this with a smirk, which I interpreted as mischievous. He didn't strike me as the type to get all fussy about exams either, but this little encounter had now made me anxious to meet him again. If I wanted that to happen, the only way was to do well on tomorrow's test. I gave him a final nod and slid off the chair with my still unread book in hand. Before leaving I pushed my goggles down so that they were hanging around my neck, as to see L directly. He was slightly less weird without the orange filter of my goggles.

"See you later." I whispered, confident that we would meet again soon, before running out towards the stairs.

Boy, did I have something interesting to tell Mello now!