Pairing: Near x Reader (platonic), Mello x Reader (mentioned)
Warnings: angst, loss, hurt/slight comfort. The story takes place 4 years after the end of the Kira's case, reader is from Wammy's house
Word count: 1.5k
The story may be considered as an afterword for this imagine. You may also read other parts of the storyline here
A/N: you may listen to "Child in time" by Deep Purple, while reading ('cause it gave me the vibes in a way)
On the 50th floor of one of the many skyscrapers in New York the sound of a phone call rang out across the large hall.
A soldier-like man at the control desk with countless computer screens immediately switched the system to call tracking mode.
"The signal is coming from a phone booth at the Mare Island Causeway, Vallejo, there are no cameras in the area."
"Put it through."
A young man was sitting on the floor, folding pyramids of different heights out of little glass animal figurines. His snow-white hair fell in tangled curls down his waist. He seemed absolutely calm, as if he knew exactly what was going to happen the next minute.
The agent at the desk frowned, glancing down at him, and hesitantly pressed the microphone button.
The phone kept silence, broken only by the distant rustle of bird voices and passing cars on the background.
"Identify yourself," the agent demanded in alarm.
No answer. Just the distant melody of a passing by ice cream truck.
"Do you know where are you calling?"
Silence.
The next second they heard a sudden sigh at the other end of the line, and the pay phone's receiver clattered onto the lever. Long-drawn beeps echoed through the hall.
"Should we... call back?" The agent asked perplexedly, turning to the white-haired man. The latter made a vague gesture with his hand, which the agent concluded as an approval. After typing a few lines on the keyboard, he pressed the microphone button again.
On a deserted street near a wasteland where cars, rusted from years of rains, found their piece, a phone rang in a sun-drenched phone boх. For a long minute, the silence of the hot air was broken by a monotonous ringing, while a lone figure with an unsteady step, moved away from the source of the sound until disappeared in the deserted lanes.
"What might it mean?" Agent turned to the guy, who calmly arranged the final row of figures, sitting with his back to the monitors. The man couldn't see it, but at that moment a sly smile flashed on the lips of the white-haired.
"I think we'll find out very soon."
*******************************************
Summer streets of New York were filled with the noise of cars, laughter of people and the sounds of music from the open doors of cafes and shops. The central district was bustling with life and it seemed that every person at that moment had a clear goal, which he knew for sure - to enjoy life and be free of all problems.
A person stopped at the atrium of one of the skyscrapers. Pedestrians, carried away by their own happiness, walked by without noticing a small oddity. No one entered this building, as well as no one left it for hours. The office skyscrapers nearby were full of traffic, while in the depths of this atrium, only a lone security guard sat at a long empty registration desk.
The person at the entrance did not attract the attention, although his figure stood out strikingly against the crowd. Despite the summer heat, he was wearing a long black hoodie, the wide hood of which completely hid his face. The silhouette of the person spoke of his severe fatigue, his shoulders periodically twitched.
Finally, he abruptly shook his head and stood onto the steps of the building. His hand reached for an inconspicuous call button and pressed it. He shrugged his shoulders, straightening up, pushing away the remnants of doubt.
A man's voice sounded on the intercom.
"Speak up."
The figure on the doorstep sighed, quietly grinning and threw off the hood.
"Long time no see, Near... Can we... talk?'
A young girl of about twenty was looking into the intercom camera. Her whole appearance spoke of a lack of sleep, as well as severe exhaustion. There was barely a glimmer of interest in what was happening in her tired eyes. Her dry lips trembled as she spoke.
"We can't let her in here!" One of the agents said indignantly. "She and Mello killed all our people, what if she came to take revenge now!?"
"Don't be absurd," the white-haired man grumbled irritably. "Rester, let her in."
After a moment's hesitation, the man addressed by the guy nevertheless reluctantly pressed one of the many buttons on the panel, and on the screen could be seen how the sliding doors of the building opened and slammed again after the figure of the girl crossed the door line.
"Up to the 50th floor, please. The elevator is on your right," the monotonous voice of the guard echoed through the empty hall.
The girl obediently followed in the indicated direction and with trembling fingers pressed the button with the sign "50" in the iron elevator.
A tense silence hung in the hall. The agents watched expectantly at the figure of a thin guy sitting in the center of the room in the white, hospital-like clothes. Before him the drawings were randomly scattered on the floor. Each drawing repeated the others and seemed to be made by a child. Four human figures could be distinguished on them, holding hands, as on a paper garland. Long white hair covered the guy's face and he continued to calmly draw a pencil across the sheet, reproducing the unchanging plot.
The doors of the hall silently opened and the agents, whose nerves were tense with expectation, involuntarily shuddered.
"Hello, Y/n," the white-haired said keeping eyes on the drawing.
"Near..." whispered the girl, starring in confusion at the guy.
"You wanted to tell me something," the young man named Near said emotionlessly.
"Yes... I wanted to," the girl lowered her head, fumbling with the edge of the fabric. She tried to find the words, but all rational thoughts flew out of her head and she stared at the floor with unseeing eyes, like a guilty schoolgirl.
"You don't look well," concluded Near, without raising his eyes. "It's been 4 years..."
"I ... tried to come up with something..." The girl muttered, as if justifying herself. "I tried to make a plan, but it didn't work out. I tried to start a new life and go my own way, but... I can't do anything by myself anymore... I'm... I'm terribly useless."
She shuddered all over and hugged herself.
"I was sure that he would always be able to come up with a plan that everything would be fine... I believed that he could... that he could survive..."
Her voice trailed off and she took a ragged breath. Near's hand froze over the sheet, he carefully listened to her words.
"I don't know where else to go, I don't know where else I can be useful, only here... I would like to work for you Near... I don't think I can want anything else anymore."
She looked up at the guy with exhausted eyes, which were filling with tears against her will.
"Besides you, I have no one left... but... If you think I'm pathetic, if you don't want to see me anymore, I'll understand. It's only for you to decide. And... Near... I never meant you any harm. I guess you know it yourself, but... I tried until the very end to convince Mello to work with you, and the murder of your team... He did it without my knowledge." The last words sounded firm, but doomed, like the last justification of a sentenced to death.
"I know," Near said softly. "Halle, take Y/N to her room."
The tall blonde woman addressed by Near calmly nodded and headed for the door, letting the girl go ahead. When the doors closed and their footsteps faded into the corridor, Rester glanced at Near with concern.
"Did you know she was about to come all this time?"
"It had to happen sooner or later," Near replied indifferently, tracing the paper with a pencil.
Rester sighed in annoyance.
"Near, are you sure this is the right decision? What if she..."
"No," Near interrupted him. "Despite the fact that Mello's death broke her, despite the fact that she lost the will to life, she still remains a valuable asset that cannot be allowed to go to waste so easily. She was one of the smartest students of the Wammy's house and despite that she has always been kind to me and never tried to compete with me.
She loved Mello and genuinely cared for Matt. So did I.
I want her to stay."
His tone was peremptory, Rester knew that when the decision was made, he could not be persuaded. Taking one last look at the white figure in the center of the room, the agent turned away, returning to work interrupted by the sudden intrusion.
He didn't notice how Near put aside the new drawing he made while they were talking. Two figures of people holding hands remained on it, and around, as if in a frenzied fit, countless tombstone crosses were scratched.
A/N: English is not my first language so I’m sorry for any mistakes. You may read this imagine in the original language here
Sharp rain lashed the windows, it seemed as if the sky had opened and the water from the heavenly springs, rested for thousands of years, broke out of the darkness at once and headed to earth in an endless stream to drown, wash away the sins of humanity, cleanse the souls of people or destroy them.
Everything came down to a dead point. The investigation stopped after the capture and death of Kira. All the accumulated material of evidence and clues collapsed because of the one line in the Death Note: "he will die in 13 days."
The networks that L tightly wove around Light became entangled, and the feeling of approaching danger was getting stronger and stronger over us every day.
L was more silent than usual, his antics and brilliant guesses on the case disappeared. This damned God of Death did not give any useful information, all L's attempts to get her to talk, to ask about the notebook ended in failure. L grew more and more gloomy, it was as if a death mark rose over him, becoming brighter every day, he himself seemed to felt it.
I opened the last message again, as if something new might appear in it, but the same brief words were shining on the screen.
"Y/n, come to the roof. We need to talk."
I put the phone in my pocket and headed to the stairs. The rain beat relentlessly through the panoramic windows, it felt like this building did not exist at all, every step was easy, as if I was walking through that gray air outside, as if it cost me nothing to push off the ground and take off now. My head was spinning from the monotonous sounds of falling drops and aching, inexplicable anxiety.
I pushed the iron door leading to the roof with shoulder, and the next second the wind whistled in the doorway. With an effort, I opened it and look around, covering eyes from the wind and small drops.
L stood near the metal tower, which was crowned with a satellite receiver, and looked at the sky motionless.
His clothes soaked through, water was streaming down his face, dripping from his hair, seemed like he had been standing here for a long time before my arrival. It was pointless to call him, for the noise of the rain and the howling of the wind, my words would simply be lost in the air, there was nothing left but to go out to meet the cold streams and the open gray sky.
“The bell is ringing louder than usual today,” he said, still staring intently into the sky, when I approached him.
“I know.”
We looked into the sky of heavy endless clouds, showered with daggers of cold drops, and it seemed as if there, far above us and in the whole expanse of the air dome, the measured beats of the memorial bell could be heard, making the heart freeze and further distancing us from the reality where we are standing on the roof of a 30-storey hotel in Tokyo, waiting for news that the unknown will bring us, closer than ever to destruction.
“Lately, it has been ringing incessantly. Do you understand what this means?” he said tonelessly.
“Yes,” I replied, keeping my eyes on the dark sky.
The rain was lashing at my face in furious gusts, my T-shirt stuck to the body, water dripped from the jeans into the sneakers, but it didn't bother me at all. It was as if the whole moment enchanted me, and I stopped feeling anything but unity with this rain, sky and air, nothing else mattered.
All the future past and present have been reduced to one point, into one vessel of the storm, heralding the end of the days of this world.
L turned and stared intently into my eyes.
“I don't want you to die.”
His voice seemed to come from far away, and it took me a moment to understand the meaning of his words, looking at him with unseeing eyes.
L seemed to understand my confusion and hastened to add:
“I think he's going to kill me and then you, and I don't know... For the first time in my life, I do not know how to prevent it,” he sighed heavily and looked up to the sky again.
“I made too many mistakes, let Light get too close... It's all my fault. I shouldn't have dragged you into this investigation. Now, because of my shortsightedness, we are both going to die. I'm sorry.”
I looked up. For some reason, a painful feeling crept into my heart again, suddenly memorable episodes from childhood began to flash before my eyes, those moments when the soul, as well as now, trembled with delight and at the same time was torn with longing in powerlessness to comprehend this moment of merging with the eternal largess of centuries, as if the ancient secret of life was hidden in these moments and one step, one breath each time was missing to let in this all-encompassing wisdom, to become one with infinity.
“It was an honor for me to work with you, but I consider the opportunity to call you my friend to be an even greater joy and the main achievement of my life,” I said.
As if in oblivion, my lips moved by themselves, but at the same time I was clearly aware that the said was right.
L looked at me somewhat surprised.
“Thank you. You are the only person who has become really close to me, whom I really trust. I'll be glad to die next to you.”
He suddenly seemed so lonely and mournful. His life has always been full of cruelty and injustice, he has always been an observer of it, but he has never lived himself. It's a pity that we won't have time to change anything.
I quietly went over and hugged him. He flinched in surprise, but hugged me back.
“Thank you. If it rains like this in heaven, I'll be happy to be there with you.”
...
Thump.
I fall on one knee, there is an unbearable pain in my heart.
Thump.
He lies in front of me and gasps for air.
Thump.
I am pinned to the ground, but rush closer to him.
Thump.
I grab his hand and look into those eyes for the last time.
A/N: @cyxxxx sorry, it took me longer than I expected, but I tried my best. So, hope you enjoy it. Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language.
"This work can be considered as the third part of the storyline. The other parts you may find here " (and here you may read an afterword for this work)
"Today I'm dirty, I want to be pretty
Tomorrow, I know I'm just dirt"
You played the rough strings, leaning back against the gray wall covered with scraps of old wallpaper. Through the glass, muddy with the dust of the city and streaks of years of dirt, the sun's rays penetrated into the room like golden threads, illuminating specks of dust, dancing in the air, and as if absorbed by the darkness, they sank into the depths of the hall.
"Today I'm dirty, I want to be pretty
Tomorrow, I know I'm just dirt"
The distant noise of the street seemed to come from a dream, more like the rustle of leaves on a light breeze. The honking of cars, the voices of people, the singing of birds-all this dissolved in the dusty air, mixed with it, and like a fog enveloped the mind, plunging it into a kind of trance. The cycle of time closed with a shining wire of solar music, intertwining with such a small and cramped, but so huge and endless space of a stuffy room.
"We're the nobodies, we wanna be somebodies
When we're dead, they'll know just who we are"
A ray of sunlight on the opposite wall illuminated a worn fragment of a heraldic lily on a piece of wallpaper, and you, without knowing why, could not take your eyes off it. Your voice was low, but you could feel each sound resonating in your chest, trembling on the tip of your tongue, causing a slight shiver and spreading a pleasant warmth through your body. It was as if you were trying to taste each word, to grasp its hidden meaning, slowing down the rhythm, stretching out the bars, as if you were carving each letter on the walls of your soul.
"We're the nobodies, we wanna be somebodies
When we're dead, they'll know just who we are"
Your voice suddenly weakened and broke off on the last word, and you chuckled soundlessly, swallowing the lump and feeling your fingers tremble. You didn't notice a man appear in the dark of the room. Leaning noiselessly against the doorjamb, he listened to your singing without moving.
"Yesterday I was dirty, wanted to be pretty
I know now that I'm forever dirt"
You flinched in surprise, your heart pausing for a moment, causing you to smile involuntarily at your sensitivity in the next second. The voice sounded hoarse after a long silence, but its depth and the bitterness that came from the very soul filled the room like heavy sea water swallowing a sinking ship. You closed your eyes, trying to catch every second of the sound, every transition and shade of his voice, trying to let his longing into your mind, to feel his pain. He said the last word with anger through clenched teeth.
"Yesterday I was dirty, wanted to be pretty
I know now that I'm forever dirt"
You sang, as if echoing him. Leaning over the guitar, you couldn't see the person standing at the door, but you could feel the heavy, thoughtful gaze on you all over, making it seem as if he was very close, standing right next to you, almost touching you...
"We're the nobodies, we wanna be somebodies
When we're dead, they'll know just who we are"
His voice was close to your ear, and you could almost feel his warm breath on your skin. You tightened your fingers on the strings, trying to calm the trembling and banish the painful sense of elusive reality. You wanted to hear it again, to capture in your memory forever the interweaving of your voices, to preserve that sacred moment of inexplicable happiness, which seemed to fade with every second, like golden grains of sand slipping through your fingers, leaving instead a bitter, cruel darkness.
"We're the nobodies, we wanna be somebodies
When we're dead, they'll know just who we are"
The last sounds of your voices faded into the echoing silence. Seeping through the muddy walls, they rushed towards the boundless ocean of the sky, carried away by the streams of sunlight... You didn't dare look up, as if you were afraid of breaking the tender bond between you.
"It's a pity we didn't sing together so often," he said after what seemed like an eternity. You heard the rustle of his clothes as he rose to his feet.
"You know... I've always loved your voice, " you said softly, and finally looked up at him. Your lips trembled, but you couldn't let tears cloud the features so dear to you. He stood in front of you, illuminated by the amber light, the sun glinting in his hair. His gaze was warm and sad, like an autumn sunset over a yellowing forest.
"Y/N..." He touched your cheek with his thin fingers, and you closed your eyes, trying to remember his touch. "I loved you... I loved you more than anything in this mad world..."
You felt him pull away and unconsciously tried to grab his hand. The outstretched hand dissolves like smoke, and your fingers weakly grasp the void in an attempt to touch the much-desired image. You shudder in a fit of despair, a silent moan escapes from your chest and a veil of tears blurs the sunny silhouette.
