A/N: This one is – gasp! – about Near! I don't know if I've ever done that before. So yeah, it's from Near's POV, and he's talking about Mello. But the pairing is MxM.

Some people say I love him. Well they are wrong. I used to love him. But that was a minute ago.

I am not a masochist, and loving him hurt me. And pain may be productive for artists and poets and their type, but I am not artistic in any way. Pain just fogs my mind, which needs to be sharp and alert at all times.

I think there are few people on this earth who can help themselves from loving Mello. Maybe his enemies. And some straight men. Some. It ends there. But he has never loved anyone back, never returned those feelings. He has rejected many people harshly, without worrying t all about their feelings. Which was why I never expressed my love for him. If he turned all others down, then how could he ever love me, the only obstacle blocking him from becoming the next L?

It always helped to think he just couldn't love anyone. That the reason he and I could never be was simply because he didn't belong with anyone. He was entirely other, and nothing could change that, not even the strongest of feelings. He wasn't compatible with any type of person. That way it didn't hurt as much when he demonstrated, through words and physical abuse, time and time again, how much he despised me. Because he could never love anyone, I could cope.

When Matt arrived at the orphanage, I took it upon myself to look up his test scores, so I could judge if he was any competition. He had scored higher than I did on the entrance exam – much higher. That was the first thing that brought him to my attention. The second was when he was assigned to be Mello's roommate. To be quite honest, I was worried about him. Looking back on that now, I was so unbelievably stupid and naïve.

The first sign that they were getting along was that Matt never showed up to class with any new bruises. There were still some left healing from his apparently abusive home life, but after a few weeks, those, too, disappeared. And no new ones took their place. That alone was an accomplishment when dealing with Mello.

Soon after Matt had arrived at Wammy's, it was as if he and Mello were conjoined twins. They never left each other's sides. Because Matt was new and shared a room with Mello, and everyone had always been to afraid to sit next to Mello, they were seated next to each other in all their classes, so even then they were together. Mello, surprisingly, puts up with the constant beeping noises from Matt's games, and no doubt the late nights with the TV still on as Matt races cars in Tokyo, the desert, and space, or fights Bowser to save Princess Peach.

Of course, he was new, so the older kids tried to pick on Matt.

I stress the word tried.

Mello declared that anyone who dared lay a finger on his Matt would be punished severely, receiving anything they did to Matt times thirteen. He made an example of those first bullies. (To this day, they still run away, whimpering slightly, whenever Mello and Matt pass them in the halls.) Anyone who even attempts to tease the boy (often about being 'Mello's puppy'), often ends up with a sprained ankle, black eye, split lip, or bloody nose.

Matt, in turn, seems to have an endless back-up supply of chocolate for Mello. Before Matt came, Mello was limited to ten bars a day or less. But ever since Matt showed up, the blond has not been seen without a chocolate bar in his mouth. I still don't know what Matt's connection is or how he gets past Roger – nobody does – but no one bothers to ask. He won't sell Mello out. For anything. Whenever Mello wants to do something bad, Matt helps him. And if they get caught, Matt will do his best to avert the blame to himself, not that Mello usually lets this happen. They are team. I never thought Mello could be a team player.

It's been like this since Matt arrived at Wammy's when he was eight. He and Mello are fourteen now, and have remained close for all this time. Just a minute ago, I still held out hope – so miniscule it could not be seen under a figurative microscope – that I had a chance.

A minute can change so much.

Because a minute ago, I hadn't yet walked into Matt and Mello's room to ask for a robot the blond had stolen from me. I hadn't seen them kissing passionately on Mello's bed, wrapped up in each other and completely oblivious to their intruder. I hadn't closed the door slowly so that they wouldn't hear me. I hadn't run down the halls of Wammy's House, silent in my white socks on the smooth wooden floors, trying not to cry. I hadn't slammed and locked the door to my room, or hugged my stuffed rabbit that usually went ignored to my chest, or cried like nobody thought I could.

That's what I'm doing now, because Matt just killed the theory that made everything okay. He had shown me that Mello could love someone, that he was compatible with someone, that he was made for someone. Matt. Not me. Matt.

I am not a masochist, and loving him hurts me. So I'm giving it up. I'm giving up on love. There is no point to it, because if you are not on the receiving end, it is just something in this world designed to cause pain.

Some people say I love him. Well they are wrong. I used to love him. But that was a minute ago.