He
could speak French now; almost seamlessly,
except that his timing
was poor,
and if he wasn't paying attention, tenses would get
confused and his grammar was practically non-existant.
But
Roger's greatest frustration with Near was that he couldn't convince
him to wear shoes,
as Near was too embarrassed to admit that he
hadn't learned to tie them.
He also wasn't the cleanest student by
far, and would not only leave his toys lying anywhere he might have
been,
but classwork, books, any snacks he might have gotten a hold
of, and even once a piece of sea-glass that he had found lying on the
floor of Austin's room.
It was unfortunate with Roger's old age
and failing sight,
that he only saw the classwork, books, and
snack foods.
Near was a creature of habit - moving back to the
same spot he always had in the main study to sit,
and it's assumed
that he must have been either observing or reading there.
Either
way, he had obviously forgotten about the glass in the floor.
It's
not that he would have been seriously injured if Mello hadn't found
him that morning,
barely five minutes after he had stepped on the
glass,
and he must have been the quietest child there that day,
eyes glazed over while examining his own wound in awe - "Mello.
Faire mal. Au secours."
(ahem, "Mello. It hurts.
Help.")
Mello was about as familiar with French as he was
with hearing Near ask for help -
so to hear both in the same
breath was overwhelming for him,
and he decided to scream (very
loudly), pointing and shouting at the offending gash in Near's
foot,
like it might bite him if he got too close.
Roger
insisted that he stay in medical for the next couple of weeks. Had it
been a clean broken glass from the kitchen, things may have been
easier.
But sea-glass would probably cause an infection -
especially if Near found it in the room Austin shared with Matt; God
only knew what was growing in there.
Near's time in
bed gave him a chance to re-acquaint himself with his old love of
puzzles,
and he went through them quickly and with such precision,
that Quillish's visits became more and more frequent.
He brought
arm-fulls of the most challenging puzzles he had - some even L hadn't
been able to piece together so quickly.
But Near completed them
all differently:
sometimes row by row, like he could already see
the picture in his head;
Sometimes he started in the middle, which
seemed impossible. And once,
Near even put one together while
glancing mostly out the window;
his favorite one, a red barn with
an old woman watering flowers.
5,000 pieces in under an hour in a
zig-zag pattern. And nobody had bothered to count how many times he
had already solved it, by then.
He stopped talking for a
little while after that, and really there was no reason for
it,
accept that he was tired.
It was redundant, constantly
explaining why or how he did things; sometimes with
children years above him listening intently.
Near was sure that
they never understood half of what he was saying.
He was also sure
that they would take the next available opportunity to spit whatever
they had just heard into Roger's ear, all smiles and bright
eyes.
That was the one thing he and Mello both understood,
and
agreed on.
Wammy's was a warzone - the rules were to win, and
professors were just fine with the means as long as there was a
winner.
The faster you learned that, the closer you were to
getting rid of those who didn't - and that was the goal,
ultimately.
One morning, Austin didn't come to class - and
Matt refused to talk or look anybody in the eye,
leaving the
lesson early after telling Roger that there wasn't any point in
learning "this shit" if that wasn't even good enough.
If
Austin hadn't even been good enough.
Mello left second - and if
Near hadn't known better, he might have thought that he was throwing
a tantrum;
fists balled tightly, while muttering something
about
"Bullshit. This whole fucking PLACE is nothing but a
factory."
He even tried to hit Roger, when he tried to keep
Mello from walking out.
By the time the lesson was over - almost
three hours of politics and punnet squares,
Near walked out into
the hallway to find Matt slumped against a wall, tracing stick
figures on the brick with an eraser,
and Mello still muttering
angrily - this time in a different language.
"Mello?"
When
Near spoke, Mello was suddenly very quiet.
"Don't lose.
Ok?"
And Matt was the only one that smiled.