A/N: More MelloxNear! This is actually going to be a pretty long one... five whole chapters! Yes, five. I know it says the four stages of denial but... well, you'll see.

Disclaimer: I can't even begin to describe how much I want to own DeathNote. But I don't.

Title: The Four Stages of Denial

Summary: MelloxNear, set in Wammy House days. Story also features Matt, a smidgen of Roger, some L visitation, and some random background orphans. It's pretty much self-explanatory beyond that. No Linda though. I refuse to use Linda. Everyone else uses Linda in young MxN fics, so I refuse to!

Stage 1: Anger

It wasn't everyday you found out that your up-to-now unquestioned reign had been usurped.

Mello was livid. Mello was infuriated. Mello was pretty darn mad, even for Mello.

If ever it were possible for human anger to manifest itself as a physical aura, it would be the day that Mello walked into the classroom at Wammy House, casually glanced at the gradesheet on the wall, and saw that he was second.

When it came to academia, Mello had never been second before in his life. And although no one else saw it as a big deal Mello took it as a great injustice and a vicious attack upon his person that someone had scored higher than him. When class ended that day, Mello was out the door before anyone else. He was gritting his teeth and focusing on one question more intensely than any he'd faced before in his young life.

'Who the hell is Near!?'

Three rooms in from the Wammy House's front door was a small, well-lit playroom. It didn't have much in it, and most of the children preferred to spend their time outdoors or doing schoolwork. A small, albino, pajama'd boy sat with one knee up on the plush carpet of this playroom. He was systematically putting together a puzzle upside-down and had no idea that a fearsome blonde was currently plotting his demise.

Near allowed the smallest of smiles to grace his face as the final piece of the puzzle settled into place. Success could be so blissful.

Matt was playing Zelda: The Four Seasons; having switched on his gameboy just as soon as the instructor had let them out the classroom door.

Matt had been best friends with Mello for some time now, and he knew better than anyone that when the blonde was in a mood this dark you just. Didn't. Say. Anything. You waited until Mello simmered down, was well into his third chocolate bar, and then you brought up the question of what his problem was. This routine had served Matt well, and he wasn't about to abandon it now just because Mello had the expression of one about to behead something small and helpless. Mello was flexible; the small and helpless thing could easily become Matt if careful conduct was not observed.

However the options were about to be taken out of Matt's hands. This was because a foolish young bystander had obliviously mentioned that 'the new kid, Near or whatever' was 'hanging out in the first floor playroom.'

Target locked, and missile Mello was off. Matt experienced temporary displacement as air filled the area Mello had occupied nanoseconds earlier. Then the red-head was running after Mello, shutting off his game as he went and preparing to play his usual part of damage control for his best friend.

Business as usual.

"Who the hell do you think you are!?" Something thin, blonde, and obviously pissed shouted from behind Near. The boy paused, calculating the odds of someone else being this harpy's target. The odds were not in his favor.

TBC...

A/N: Somewhat short, yes, but it's only the first chapter. Review if you want more!