Chapter Text
Near sat on the floor, building a tower.
It was a fairly large one. The base alone was nearly a meter in radius.
It was an imperfect circle, made by stacking hex nuts laid flat and packed tightly all the way to the center. The middle portion of the base rose like a low, shallow mound, its radius narrowing little by little. Once it reached a certain height, he began stacking the hex nuts upright, with their holes facing forward, carefully forming several spires.
The room, its walls covered with monitors, was the SPK headquarters they had established in Japan.
Lester was sitting behind Near.
On one of the monitors, a Japanese news program was playing.
A building that looked like a burnt-out church. A thin trail of black smoke still rising toward the sky.
“...The official autopsy results have confirmed that one of the two bodies found at the scene was that of Kiyomi Takada. Identifying the other body, believed to be the perpetrator, is proving extremely difficult—”
The newscaster’s voice continued from the speakers.
A transmission came in from Lidner.
“Near...” she said, her voice filled with anguish. “I’m sorry... I never thought Mello would—”
“No. It’s all right.”
Near answered at once.
“The problem has been solved.”
Yes.
The problem had been solved.
He placed another hex nut on top of a spire.
“Commander Lester. Would you connect me to the Japanese Task Force?”
He gave the instruction while picking up another nut between his fingers.
As planned, he would confront Kira directly in two days. After finishing the arrangements for that confrontation, he placed the nut on the tip of the spire.
To Lidner and Gevanni on the monitors, and to Lester behind him, Near said,
“Commander Lester. Lidner, Gevanni...”
He was about to release the nut from his fingers.
“...Let’s do our best.”
Lidner and Gevanni ended the transmission. They had most likely returned to their preparations for the confrontation with Kira.
The monitors went black one after another as the connections were cut.
Among them, only the screen showing the news program glowed pale blue.
At that moment, Near’s fingertips trembled ever so slightly.
The spire, made by stacking hex nuts upright on their flat faces, lost its delicate balance and swayed sharply from the base.
The next instant, it collapsed from the top down. The falling nuts struck the base, causing several of the surrounding spires to tilt slightly as well. Still, the tower itself barely remained standing.
As the metallic clatter of nuts rolling across the floor echoed through the room, Near closed his eyes.
Human beings can never stand in the position of an all-seeing god.
At that moment, Near understood what that meant in the truest sense.
A new record was inserted into his memory.
January 26.
—Mello died.