A Lesson in Trickery

The End

Snow falls outside, another cold winter slowly settling over the English countryside. The birds continue to flock to the bird feeder Light has outside, eating the dried corn and little red seeds before flying away to somewhere safer. The birds owe their life to a window— the window is the only thing keeping Midnight from pouncing them and shaking them to death. She always lays in front of the window, watching the birds— much like Light. Ever since he got that bird feeder, the curtains have been drawn back, allowing everyone to see the outside scenery. Over the past few years, nothing has really changed. It's always raining outside, the winter a surprise of snow and sleet. But Near no longer minds.

Near used to hate the winter. As a young child, he would sit by the window, watching as all the other orphans played in the snow. He had been too sickly to join them, always coughing or catching a cold. He hated the damp snow, the way it would dampen his clothing for hours. When he got older, snow was just another hazard, another way he could hurt himself. Mello would pelt him with snowballs whenever he got the chance, causing Matt to roll his eyes while he smoked a cigarette. Every winter involved cheap, overly salty soup for dinner. Living with Light and L had caused Near to re-evaluate his stance on winter.

Winters were no longer a solitary state where dinners consisted of soups and stale crackers. Winters were spent in each other's company, sipping tea and hot cocoa while solving cases together. There were Christmas lights and a pathetic Christmas tree decorated in cheap ornaments— none of them particularly care about how expensive the ornaments were, especially considering that Light's version of Christmas is different than Near and L's Christmas. The stockings Light made when he took up knitting a couple months back hang on the fireplace, and Near thinks there is something cute about them being homemade. The stockings aren't perfect, but they're very fitting for them— Light's stocking looks perfect until someone looks inside, L's stocking hangs crookedly and looks too pale in certain lighting, and Near's stocking is made of fabric that's frayed on the end. Winters are spent eating Light's homemade dishes and curling up in a chair to read a book while Light and L snuggle together on the couch.

"Near." Light's voice snaps him out of his thoughts. Dressed in a black turtleneck and a pair of tan dress pants, he looks more fashionable than L and Near ever do. Light still dresses to impress, and Near supposes that some things don't change. "Are you okay? I've been hollering to you. I made hot cocoa."

"I got lost in thought," admits Near. He gestures for Light to take a seat on the couch, ignoring the confused look Light gives him. "You know how it is. I can never shut my thoughts off. Sometimes they get... overbearing."

Light sit down, seating a mug down on the coffee table for Near. "I understand. The other day, I stood and analyzed the answer to a question L asked me. There was no wrong answer. I just...I don't know. I was Kira and-" Light lets out a pained noise.

"You don't have to do this," says Near in a calm voice. He is curious about what Light was going to say, but he refuses to push Light into anything. Light never really talks about being Kira, at least not with Near.

There are some days where it is easy to forget that Light is Kira. His soft fingers brush Near's hair, untangling the knots in it before braiding it. His gentle, soft laugh puts Near at ease. He stands by the stove, cooking the food for Near's favorite dish. He checks up on Near, making sure he goes to bed and brushes his teeth. He brings food up to Near's room, always checking to make sure that Near has eaten enough and isn't hungry. Light orders Near to take breaks from his cases when Light thinks they are necessary, often getting Near to take short walks with him. The soft expression he gets when L wraps himself around Light is an expression Kira would never make. There are some days where Near forgets Light killed people.