Hello~! How are you? Doing great?

I guess this is the start of a MelloxNear FanFic so be warned... I don't know if I'll be able to pull this off well, but I will absolutely try my hardest! Victory will be mine! I'm a bit jumpy about this and how I happen to be wording things...but what's done is done. This will be all told by Near here...(hey, a rhyme!) and it's an...interesting view on him, so yeah. Look forward to the next chappy!

Chapter 1: How are you feeling?

The definition of alive is having life or living. The definition of life is the condition that distinguishes organisms from inorganic objects and dead organisms, being manifested by growth through metabolism, reproduction, and the power of adaptation to environment through changes originating internally.

So in technical terms, I am alive. At least…I experience the normal symptoms of life. But, only the minimum requirements. The things that set humans apart from other organisms, I reputably lack.

It wouldn't be the first time, if someone said that I was a little less then lively. I can't deny the fact that any enthusiasm is absent in my everyday workings. I'm not one to go outside and play with the other children. I don't really argue, but I will tell you if I disagree. It is true that I try to avoid conversation… But, it isn't my fault. I'm not doing it on purpose. I just can't comprehend the emotional complexities that come with life. It's an ability I was born without.

I bet you couldn't imagine it; so to make it easier, the idea of not being able to use your emotions is like loosing any of your senses. I've missed out on things, just like someone blind misses out on things or that someone deaf misses out on things. It's a handicap on me. And I can't say that I like it, but I can't say that I don't like it. All I know for sure is—I'm confused.

I end up observing everyone around me, to see what emotion is. People getting frustrated, or happy, or depressed over the smallest things; like a grade, or someone's opinion. It's all absurd, but I almost want to try it…to see what I've lost.

Just recently, I heard talk about being crushed. After research, It was surprising to find a word that is initially used to describe the action of pressing or squeezing something until it was destroyed or deformed; is being used in order to define the feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection towards another person. But, because I'm clueless in the matter of feeling, and everything I have said is based on what I've read; I have no right to speak against their logic.

Anyways, I have never been crushed. The closest I ever managed, was respect for someone greater then me. And, along with crushed, I've never been jealous. Never scared. I can't say I know what sadness is. Or anger. I am nothing. I just am. And, I know it's ridiculous. Almost as if I'm not human. I know.

And, I know what I should feel in a situation. After watching people from the sidelines, I usually can figure out how I should feel based on similar situations from other people. But, when the time comes; there isn't the faintest tug in my heart—or from wherever you're supposed to feel emotion from.

I'm just an empty shell with knowledge and no experience. I know, yet I don't... Which makes me different. That's why I'm alone. Because, when someone's different, you avoid them. At least…that's what's been proven to me so many times.

I had finished my puzzle just after everyone left. I was alone, and no one was bothering me; which was normal for everyday except for today, so the break was a relief on my mind and body. Another round of putting together the white jigsaw seemed redundant; so adjusting to my situation, I spread myself across the floor, face up, to stare at the ceiling. It wasn't the most productive way to waste away time, but it's not as if I were missing out on anything anyway. All I have is time, and I'm not very ambitious, so there is nothing I really need to work towards.

I watched, uninterested, as the shadows of the students outside danced through the streaks of orange light on the ceiling. It was quiet in Whammy's for the first time today. Unfortunately, that was ruined by the slam of a door that shook all to where I was resting.

There was the sound of feet stomping though the halls, and eventually, voices of two familiar boys at the door.

"You idiot! Why didn't you move!"

"I watont etspeting ou to fo a punts!"

With my head directed towards the door, I looked to see as a fiery blonde burst into the common room followed by a red head with a bloody nose. Not because I was interested, but because they were simply in my presence, I decided to observe the state of affairs presented before me. Mello, a blonde boy whose temper I have come across more than once, forcefully sat his partner down in an act only few would understand as a motion of kindness.

"Hold your head up or something and put pressure on it! I'll go get some Kleenex, so make sure Roger doesn't catch you bleeding!"

Not even taking time to get a response from his friend, he was out the door and on his quest for tissues.

Matt gave a nasally sigh, and through his tinted goggles I could see him roll his eyes to the ceiling. With one hand still pinching his nose shut, he wiped at a dribble of blood that was about to reach his mouth; ending up smearing it all over his face and hand. Instinctively, he went to wipe it off on his pants. Then he hesitated, obviously debating on the risk of ruining his clothes. The decision was made when he balled his hand into a fist, resting it against his knee. Matt glanced down at me, and my spot on the floor.

"Ey, Near," he said, leaning as far back as the chair would let him.

Pursing my lips, I continued to look at his position bowed back over the chair.

"I'm sorry to say this Matt, but it isn't a good idea to hold your head back like that. If you continue on that way, the blood will end up draining into your throat, and possibly drown you. Leaning forward while allowing it to drain would be the best option in my opinion."

Matt had no problem in trusting my word as he bent forward. "Heh. T'anks."

I nodded as best as I could while still on the ground; then returned to staring blankly at the ceiling.

It took a few moments, but I had finally settled back into a comfortable state, when peace was interrupted once again with the reappearance of Mello.

"I got them!" He shouted holding a Kleenex box in one hand and some loose tissues in the other.

Matt grinned and stood up, taking one to shove up each nostril.

"Thanks man," he said gratefully, grabbing another Kleenex to try and wipe his hands off.

Mello crossed his arms and scowled. "There would be no need for thanks if you left your face were it was! You get in the way at the worst times!"

"You thin' I dried to get in the way?"

Relying on the information I had collected over my days in school, I quickly put together the most realistic scenario I could, of what likely happened.

Today, even though the sun was out, had been rather chilly—and I happen to know Mello is sensitive to the cold—so in weather like today he would be more irritated then that of a normal day. Looking at both Matt and Mello, they had grass stains from their knees to their elbows. The result of a game of football probably.

In the list of possible contributors; Dive, another boy here, was scolded this morning—so his temper was already strained. He would be my guess.

Either boy could have started the argument, though Mello is usually the instigator, so I'd bet on him.

How did Matt get involved? Well, his nature around Mello is definitely loyal; and he is always curious about his friends business, but he sometimes acts without thinking ahead. He might have wanted to get a better look, or maybe provide simple encouragement to his comrade; but without observing the situation, he stuck his head in right as Mello reached his boiling point. Matt went unknowingly into the battle field and ended up in the crossfire.

There was an unnatural silence that eventually drew my weary attention. Looking up, I could see my presence was finally acknowledged by a displeased Mello. It wasn't a surprise to see he was angry at the sight of me. Actually, I can't remember the last time I was surprised—but that's besides the point.

"Good afternoon, Mello," I said in proper greeting.

I watched as his lip curled into a ferocious sneer. It was one of the things about the cryptic boy I could never understand. Why do the most normal motions bother him so much? Specifically, why do my motions bother him so much? It's not like I provoke his wrath intentionally…

Maybe, it's the rivalry to be top of the class. I wouldn't know, but is quite possible that constantly being known as 'second best' has created some ill-will feelings. And, from what I understand about emotion, he could be jealous. The indications should be…irrationality, intense frustration, depression, anxiety, and bitterness regarding the accomplishments of the individuals around him.

Once again, knowing the problem doesn't help. I need to know the solution.

"What are you doing here?" Mello asked in an accusing tone.

He clenched and unclenched his hands, probably wishing he could be hurting me at that very moment. Such an aggressive person; I could no doubt find a root of violence in any and all of his movements.

"I was simply here, laying down," I answered honestly.

Mello walked over, standing just above my head.

"You better not tell anyone about this!" he threatened, eyes glowing with hatred. "And, if you do, you're gonna have to worry about more than just a bloody nose!"

"I had no intention of telling anyone."

That's the truth. I've never liked gossip and it's an inefficient way to get information anyhow.

Mello continued to glare down at me with a steely blue gaze that most would tremble under. It never bothered me; though, it always made me genuinely interested in what he might be thinking.

Mello's eyes swooped back over to Matt who was still trying to tend to himself.

"You need to wash that off before I get in trouble."

"No worries!" Matt insisted. "I'll jus thay I ran inthu a wall or thumthin while playing one of my gabes."

"Even if that sounds like something you may do, I'm getting sick of smelling your blood."

"I'm tho thorry my blood doesn have an appealing thent! Well, could you at leath open the door then? It'd be bethed to get to the bathroom without leaving handprints all over everythin'."

Mello breathed out heavily from his nose, opening the door as if it were the most tedious task he could have been asked to do. Matt hunched over; sneaking into the hallway, shadowed by his colleague.

Alone, I took a deep breath; along with feeling my ribs pop. I held in a gasp and gritted my teeth, making myself still while waiting for the pain to go away.

Mello seems to consist of noise. It's something—I and everyone here—needed to get used to over time. And, not just when he is slamming a door; but when he is in an argument and yelling, or stomping off through the halls when in a particularly bad mood, the way he breathes heavily when frustrated…

Another thing about him, is the way he wears his emotions on his sleeve. It's the most intriguing thing about him; especially because he reacts differently than most in that same situation. He's such a complicated person. I've always been drawn to complicated things…I guess that's why I even care to think about him during my free time. He is by far the liveliest person I've ever encountered. It's obvious that we're both on opposite sides of the emotional spectrum. He lives in the moments, rambunctious and proud. I have less personality than a pet fish. We're polar opposites.

…I could add that to the list of things that gives Mello a reason not to like me. People avoid those who are too different. Well…except in my case, but that's what makes me even more different from everyone else.

It no longer hurt to breathe, so I sat myself up.

The sun was dangerously close to setting, and the sounds of the other children shuffling through the halls signified the end of the day.

Leaving my puzzle on the floor to wait for me until tomorrow, I stepped with bare feet into the corridor. A few heads turned on seeing me, but turned back just as easily to their business once they got an eyeful.

Watching the badly scuffed wooden floor passed under me, I walked the pre-calculated path that would lead me to my room.

"Near!"

I was stopped at the base of the steps as my assumed name was called again.

"Near! Wait up!"

Turning around, I brought my head up to see none other than Linda, quickly tiptoeing behind me, trying to catch up.

Slouching my posture, I counted the seconds it took her to reach me. Six.

"Yes, Linda?" I asked politely as she stopped in front of me.

She dropped her gaze, all of a sudden focused on picking at her fingernails.

"I didn't see you outside today…" she mumbled, saddened.

"That's understandable. I wasn't outside today."

"I know." Linda perked up, letting me see her round little face once more. "But, I told you it's ok to come to maybe just hang out. It might be fun!"

I highly doubted the girl had anything that I would or could consider fun. I haven't experienced fun once in this "life" of mine, so I'm sure that's good enough reasoning.

"I see. Well, thank you for inviting me. I'll remember your offer."

I should have felt guilty after seeing how happy I had made her while secretly planning to ignore the invitation; but with what I born without, my heart is stone. I really didn't care if she would be disappointed. I'm hypocritical. There is no moral obligation behind why I act polite. I am simply acting selfishly in order to avoid needless confrontation. I don't care about anybody.

Linda nodded, smiling so wide it looked painful. "Ok! I hope to see you soon! Bye!"

I let her run away with her false securities, as she skipped back to her own room. It had been an inconvenience to be held up by her meaningless chatter, and I silently started walking back up the old staircase; probably the last boy out of his room.

There was an indistinguishable ticking as I passed by closed doors, finally, reaching the familiar wooden paneling that was my own. Jiggling the knob, I pushed my way into the room I spent every night in.

Just as I was closing the door for the night, I was distracted at the sound of voices in the hall. I didn't intend to listen in, but I ended up doing so anyway.

"You're going to get more already? You went last night too... How do you run out so fast—"

"Shut up, already! I won't be gone long. I'll be back later."

Footsteps sounded in my direction. Quietly as possible, I clicked the door shut.

Then I waited. Ear pressed against the door, listening to make sure I wasn't noticed. After a few minutes I was satisfied, dragging my feet until I was able to fall safely into bed.

The door opened.

"What were you doing listening to us?"

Groaning, I rubbed at the headache that was starting to form right above my eyebrow.

"Hello again. What ever inspired a visit from you at this hour, Mello?"

"I swear, if Roger-"

In an attempt to get rid the noise as soon as possible, I cut him off. "I didn't hear anything. I didn't see anything. I was here. Sitting in my bed. Doing nothing."

I wish I could have seen him better. The lights were off, and the shades were closed from earlier. All I could make out were his outline, and eyes. Luminous blue spheres glowing against a black backdrop.

The heat of Mello's anger was almost tangible as he stood completely still, eyes still glinting menacingly.

"I'm sorry, but unless there is something else you need of me; I would like to get some rest now."

There was a scoff as Mello slammed the door shut.

Not even minding to get out of my clothes, not even minding to get under the covers, I dropped myself back onto the mattress. I was drained, and now, suffering a headache. I wasn't expecting to have to deal with so many people today. The children hardly ever try to converse with me, but all through this morning I kept getting question, after offer, after comment. Complete madness.

Closing my eyes, I concentrated on sleep. Starting with my fingertips, I relaxed each muscle until there were none left to worry about. Then, I began to strip away my ideations, one by one until my insides were bare, and my last strand of thought was plucked; leaving me nothing but sleep and an empty nothing dream.

Oh my, This doesn't look like the start of a romance at all! Nothing has changed! Mello is sending all these hate vibes! What are you thinking writer? Are you crazy!

Do not worry my pretties...the time will come when everyone learns to get along all sweet and nice like. Reviews are very welcome and I will even respond to each one with a personal thanks! Come on! You know you want to!

Sorry folks! There has been some controversy about the cracking/popping of Nears ribs. Think of it like cracking your knuckles. Nothing serious at all...it just hurts hurts like heck and it hurts too much to move for a few seconds. Sorry again!