DN -- Flight
Title: Flight
Collection: The Margins
Fandom: Death Note
Character: Near
Rating: G
Word Count: 284
Warnings: none
Summary: Things that were and things that can be.
Author's Note: Happy birthday, Nearikins! XD
FLIGHT
When Near was small-smaller-he played with puzzles, wooden blocks, and trains, and he always dragged a plastic armada into the tub when it was his turn for a bath.
But he didn’t do any of those things without a rational motivation. Above all else, Near believes in reason. Cause and effect is his doctrine, and logic is his dogma.
He assembled the puzzles because their disparate pieces fit into a perfect whole. He built block towers towards the ceiling beams because he was just tall enough to stack sixteen cubes. He kept his trains and his little ships in beautiful condition because their full-sized counterparts might someday take him away-because a train or a boat could take you anywhere. Because toy ones were big enough to carry his imagination.
Once, when it was late, and he was tired, and his self-control was weak, he had told L about the places he knew that trains and boats could go. He had talked about the things he’d seen in atlases and the full-color pictures in his history books, about turquoise seas and endless forests and monuments to millennia of human achievement.
L had smiled and nodded, and the next time he left, he came back bearing the kit that would become Near’s first model airplane.
It is that triumph-L gazing amusedly at the strings of glue trailing from his fingers; and Mello helping without any snide commentary, because L was there, and that was enough-that Near remembers now as he paints a Gothic N onto the wing of his F-22.
He smiles a little, and he wonders if there are crime rings to obliterate in Cairo.
The world is waiting.
Collection: The Margins
Fandom: Death Note
Character: Near
Rating: G
Word Count: 284
Warnings: none
Summary: Things that were and things that can be.
Author's Note: Happy birthday, Nearikins! XD
FLIGHT
When Near was small-smaller-he played with puzzles, wooden blocks, and trains, and he always dragged a plastic armada into the tub when it was his turn for a bath.
But he didn’t do any of those things without a rational motivation. Above all else, Near believes in reason. Cause and effect is his doctrine, and logic is his dogma.
He assembled the puzzles because their disparate pieces fit into a perfect whole. He built block towers towards the ceiling beams because he was just tall enough to stack sixteen cubes. He kept his trains and his little ships in beautiful condition because their full-sized counterparts might someday take him away-because a train or a boat could take you anywhere. Because toy ones were big enough to carry his imagination.
Once, when it was late, and he was tired, and his self-control was weak, he had told L about the places he knew that trains and boats could go. He had talked about the things he’d seen in atlases and the full-color pictures in his history books, about turquoise seas and endless forests and monuments to millennia of human achievement.
L had smiled and nodded, and the next time he left, he came back bearing the kit that would become Near’s first model airplane.
It is that triumph-L gazing amusedly at the strings of glue trailing from his fingers; and Mello helping without any snide commentary, because L was there, and that was enough-that Near remembers now as he paints a Gothic N onto the wing of his F-22.
He smiles a little, and he wonders if there are crime rings to obliterate in Cairo.
The world is waiting.