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Rain was not an uncommon occurrence in England.
Today, like most days, the sound of rain hitting the ground and colliding with the roof distracted you as you stared out the window. For some odd reason, the thunderous roar felt unusually loud today. As you rested your head against one of the windows, the cool glass acting as a respite against boredom, you heard some of the aides instruct the rest of the children to stay inside.
Ha, all of you knew better at this point.
Sure, some of the younger and more reserved of your peers would stay inside, but it wasn’t because of obedience. Rather, it was because they couldn’t be bothered to make the trip outside, knowing that it wasn’t worth getting rained on. For others, however, you knew that within a few minutes, the rebellious children would escape through whatever route generations of children had been using. Already, you could see some of the older wards, lighting up cigarettes or scaling the gates to freedom.
If you really wanted to, you could escape the aides’ notice and leave, but you weren’t too inclined. It was warm and cozy inside, but the rainfall looked a little too hazardous to brave going outside.
As the sky continued to darken, you heard the sound of a door opening slightly, the rasping wheeze of dry hinges grating on your ears. Your eyes flickered at the newcomer, only for you to avert your gaze in irritation.
It was him.
As was par for the course, when children were cooped together for long periods of time, negative interactions were more than likely to happen. Some of the older wards liked to bully the newcomers and the young. Some of the younger children liked to manipulate their peers. And most would turn a blind eye when a playground fight escalated into horrific displays of violence. The poor aides at Wammy’s were so overworked and fed up with the children’s antics, that they were often rendered inefficient.
You have had your fair share of bullying and getting bullied, but that didn’t mean that you would intentionally act out in ill will. Often, your acting out was usually because you were forced to do so; there was only so much patience one had before it would begin to wear thin.
But this was Near.
And Near wasn’t a target for ill will. Usually.
Mello would say otherwise, but many of your peers and yourself would say that out of everyone, Near was not a target to be manipulated, exploited, or targeted. He was far too high up the chain: an apex predator in an environment filled with other worthy opponents.
And, as much as possible, you tried not to interact with the number one candidate for succession as much as possible.
Was it out of fear?
Perhaps, but it was more out of the knowledge that you could never measure up to him. As the top candidate with only one member vying for his spot, socializing with him was akin to trying to talk to a star: far out of reach and impossible.
Plus, it was also out of a sense of self-preservation. Mello was mercurial on the best of days. If he found out that you weren’t avoiding Near or was actively getting involved into their rivalry… Well, you feared for the worst.
However, here was the thing: Near came to you.
You weren’t sure when it started, but all of a sudden, he began attaching himself to you at every given opportunity. It didn’t matter if you were seated at one of the tables in the library, sneaking into the kitchens, or hiding away in one of the classrooms, Near always found a way to get a hold of you.
At first, you didn’t know what to think. What was he doing, following you around? The first few times he had begun tagging around you, the thought of Mello chasing and harassing the both of you came to mind. Near, you could handle, but that spitfire of a boy? Not at all! You tried to shake him off, but that enabled him to continue hanging out with you more and more often.
Miraculously, Mello didn’t care too much about his rival hanging out with you. In fact, other than a few snide comments on how Near was socializing for once with the “normal kids”, he had taken to stalking the halls and staking his claim over the best table in the library. You had thought that Mello would take you aside and probably threaten you, but you supposed that you weren’t important enough to warrant his attention.
Really, the main problem in this situation was none other than Near.
You didn’t mind his presence, per se, but you could not deny that it was unsettling. His eyes were a deep brown that bordered on black when contrasted with his pale, gaunt features. He looked frail, breakable in comparison to most, including you. His body was bony, all angles and lacking the softness that came with youth.
If you were to touch him, you thought, the both of you would end up getting hurt.
Children, for the most part, were social creatures. As such, you had your own circle of friends you trusted and a few other children you considered amiable acquaintances. With the addition of Near into your life, you quickly found that no one wanted to be with you.
It wasn’t personal. Again, it was that self-preservation instinct. Even if Mello didn’t care about you, he would definitely start getting vicious if he discovered that his arch nemesis was becoming more popular than him.
(Not like the top two students were popular, only notorious in name).
And because of that, you found yourself isolated.
Except for Near, that is.
You had thought that maybe Near was trying to avoid Mello. Over the past few years, the blond had been steadily ramping up his antagonism from petty insults to outright physical violence. Although Roger had tried to curb his tendencies by assigning him to counseling, Mello barely mellowed out. However, you found that your theory wasn’t sound.
Near simply didn’t care.
If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that Near sought you out for company.
Which led you to this very situation.
Rain continued to pour heavily outside as you regarded him. Although he was slight of frame and was not accustomed to standing straight, he seemed to tower over you. His pitch black eyes, thus rendered even darker by the dim lighting, haunted you as you leaned fully back against the window.
In the beginning, you had tried to talk to him, but when you had been rewarded with silence, you had decided to stop talking to him.
Now, though, you were curious.
You paused for a moment, hoping that you wouldn’t sound rude. Before you could open your mouth to speak, however, you found yourself interrupted by the one person you’d never think would speak to you. Because that was the thing: Near, despite his clingy nature, had never spoken to you.
Not really.
Not a hello, how do you do, or a goodbye.
He was just… there.
“You don’t want to go outside.”
That wasn’t a question. You of all people knew how observant the higher ranked children could be. Near was simply stating a fact: there was no changing that you wanted to stay inside, even if you were practically stalked by someone you knew shouldn’t have come so close to you.
You answered, a tremor in your voice that you tried to steady. “Well… it’s raining.”
His dark black eyes darted from your face and towards the window. Like a ghost, he glided up and then past you, his thin, fragile fingers tracing the glass.
“The world outside is so cold. Why would anyone want to go outside?”
You struggled to keep up with the conversation. It wasn’t like he was unobservant or fishing for information. It seemed as if he was speaking because he wanted to… It was strange, but it was as if he was seeking companionship.
But why?
If not the second best successor, then someone else in the top ranks.
You weren’t particularly gifted or smart.
You were simply yourself.
You answered, “Does it really matter? Different people want different things.”
“And you want to stay inside.”
Not knowing where he was taking this conversation, you nodded. “It’s… nicer inside.”
His eyes narrowed, appearing like slits on such a pale face. Had he expected that you speak poetically? Or that you would elaborate on your answer?
Just as suddenly as he rewarded you with such an irritated expression, he relaxed and walked to your side, his presence ringing alarm bells in your head.
Something was not quite right… The rain was still pelting outside, the air was still cool and damp from the outside elements, but Near seemed to suck all of those atmospheric factors away. What you were most aware of was how his pupils were blown open wide, dilated. There was a rich ring of brown ensconcing a pool of darkness, but it was made all the more unnerving when instead of moving away or moving closer for what you could assume to be in a pantomime of a hug—of personal connection—he hovered close to your body a few centimeters away.
Too close for comfort, too far away to do anything about it.
For once, Near, the affable sheep of the flock as Mello would put it, almost seemed like a predator just waiting to strike.
The rain fell down harder.
What could he possibly want, the boy genius who would later inherit the power of a man who could conquer the world if he wanted to?
You felt a chill rise and fall over your spine like a retreating wave before the crashing of a hurricane.
“And you…” You swallowed your uneasiness. “You want to stay inside.”
Over the course of a few horrible seconds, Near’s face utterly twisted. It was as if he had never known how to smile, only to emulate what it would look like as if he had only read about it from an encyclopedia. First his eyes, so dark and consuming, began to widen even further in the planes of his too pale face. Then his mouth began to curve, his lips thinning—like a pastry chef slicing through the icing of a cake.
But what disturbed you the most was that Near was coming closer and closer. Whatever distance was there was steadily decreasing until there was only a breath of air between the both of you.
You weren’t trapped, but Near’s manic gaze held you fast.
“Yes.” He stated. Simple as a fact. That fragile smile that threatened to tear the flesh from his cheeks and hang from his teeth widened further. “It’s nicer inside.”
You should have left when you had the chance.