Near had won. Kira was dead, the Death Note was secured, and justice had been served — or so he thought. The world had moved on, but Near could not shake the emptiness that lingered in the quiet corners of his mind. Then, he found you.

You were a journalist, a bold fanatic of Kira, determined to prove that his death was unjust. At first, you were just a face in the crowd, another misguided believer. But when Near saw your face, it was like seeing a ghost. The resemblance to L was uncanny — the same dark eyes, the messy hair, the way you tilted your head when you spoke. Yet there was something else, a spark of admiration, almost longing, in your gaze.

Near had you brought to him, his curiosity growing into something more twisted with every second that passed. Now, in his private office, he sat across from you, toying with a lock of his hair, his gray eyes fixed intently on your face.

“You look like him,” he said quietly, his voice almost childlike in its innocence, but his eyes were sharp, calculating.

Your breath hitched at his words, the intensity of his stare sending a chill down your spine. “I’m nothing like him,” you replied, but your voice trembled slightly. “L was wrong. Kira was justice.”

Near’s lips curled into a faint smile, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his knee. “Yet here you are, in front of me,” he murmured. “A Kira devotee who looks exactly like my predecessor… how interesting.”

You met his gaze, your heart racing. “Is that why you brought me here? Because of how I look?”

Near leaned forward, his expression unreadable, his eyes glinting with a strange light. “Maybe,” he said softly. “Maybe it’s a second chance… a way to keep L close in my own way. Or maybe it’s just because I want you. To understand you. To see if you can be… something else.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the tension in the air, the sharp edge of his words. “And what if I refuse?” you challenged, trying to sound brave.

Near's smile grew, a small, almost amused curve of his lips. “You won’t,” he replied