Near sat alone in the dim light, fingers threading through his hair, mind caught in a painful loop. He had always been methodical, a creature of precision, and losing you had disrupted every pattern he'd ever known. You were his anchor, the only one who had challenged him, who made the endless games feel worth something. And now, he’d broken every rule he held sacred to bring you back, using an unholy deal with the very Shinigami who had witnessed Kira’s end.

In the shadows, Ryuk cackled, his eyes gleaming with morbid glee. “They’re back, Near, just like you wanted.”

And there you stood, just as Near had remembered—until he met your eyes. They were empty, staring through him as if he were a stranger. He swallowed, a rare flutter of fear scraping at the edges of his resolve. "Do you remember?" he asked, his voice a quiet plea.

You blinked, head tilted in a gesture that once would have been endearing, but now felt… wrong. "Remember?" you echoed, the word dull, hollow. Your voice held none of the sharpness or warmth he had cherished.

Near reached out, brushing his fingertips along your wrist, hoping something familiar would spark, something real. “It’s me,” he murmured. “You know me. Nate.”

For a moment, something flickered in your expression, a shadow of recognition… then it vanished, replaced with a look so cold it sent a chill down his spine. "I don’t know you," you whispered, voice devoid of warmth, the vacancy in your eyes more unnerving than any death he’d ever witnessed.

His hand dropped, the hope he’d clung to shattering in an instant. Ryuk's chuckle grew louder, echoing through the room, a reminder of Near’s fatal miscalculation. The Shinigami’s words came back to him—You bring them back, but they won’t be the same.

Near felt a hollow ache in his chest, deeper than he had ever thought possible. You were back, and yet, he’d never felt so alone.