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Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.

- Ecclesiastes 4:9-10
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Wisps of grey smoke soared into the azure sky, kissing the cool morning air and tickling the almost nonexistent clouds.  Near the rising sun, the smoke simply disappeared, lost in the horizon, swallowed by the gaping jaws of the heavens.

The smoke in question originated from an ashen cigarette, which protruded from pursed lips.  Scarlet hair curled around light-skinned ears, dangerously adjacent to the simmering stick.  A deep breath was taken in a voluminous sigh, followed by another.

The redhead inhaled in the cigarette fumes, letting the vapors steady his mind.  Mornings like these always got to him like a creeping spider, spindly legs brushing against his body from head to toe.  It was the tension, the stress, which made his stomach jittery and tingling.  The feeling fluttered like hordes of butterflies, bordering on the edge of nausea.

It was a poison waiting to inflict his every nerve, like a venomous snake poised to spring upon its prey.  There was no antidote, no cure.  The emotion was always there, coursing through his body like the blood that smoothly flowed through his veins.

Mello would have sneered, calling it cowardice.  But it was fear in the purest of forms, an undeniable terror that pulsated and throbbed to no end.  It wasn’t exactly cowardice, for Matt knew he was capable of fighting, but maybe it was, dulled into blunt, foolish bravery.

The young man let out a gusty breath, expelling hazy grey clouds from his mouth.  Was Mello ever scared?  Was Near?  Didn’t they acknowledge the impending danger looming over them all, and ever dread the future?

Mello reveled in rage and fury, anger masking every one of his emotions.  The blond never seemed to be afraid – it was an emotion he seemed incapable of.  Sometimes, the passionate determination was channeled negatively, and Mello’s emotions clouded his judgment, his actions - everything.  Anger was Mello’s strength…as well as his downfall.  But for now, he would remain standing, Matt was sure.

Near was different.  The white-haired teenager was seemingly devoid of feelings – he was a brilliant mind, but not much more.  Mello loathed his so-called rival, but his hatred was never mutual.  Matt could tell – Near never fought back.

In the past, he was curious, examining Near whatever chance he had.  Mello despised him, which the redhead never understood.  He had inspected Near’s every action, wondering and puzzling over the boy.  It was the proverbial needle-in-the-haystack – sifting through every brief memory for the slightest clue that proved Near worthy of hatred.  In fact, Matt found that it was becoming harder and harder to find Near competent of possessing an ounce of humanity.

Then, one day at Wammy’s House, he discovered the answer to his questions.  It was a cool spring morning, and the air was crisp and sharp.  It was rather stifling in the orphanage, enclosed in its many rooms.  One was prone to feel trapped, wasting away in a place where children were trained and educated of such things far beyond their years.

And so, Matt slipped away, out into the morning where he could think.  He wasn’t smoking yet, which he believed was somewhat of an accomplishment and misfortune at the same time.

He didn’t expect to find Near out there, sitting on a flight of crumbling steps connected to the house’s back door.  The white-haired boy was crouching in his usual position, slender legs drawn up in front of him.  

“Good morning,â€

Title: Broken
Author: Endless
Genre: Drama/Angst
Pairing: KaiCon
Rating: T
Summary: He knew, never in a million years, would he ever be able to offer the thief his hatred.  KaiCon.
A/N: Cliché fics to the max!  Here’s yet another attempt to get over writer’s block.  Cookies to hopelessidiot for being the first one to read this!   

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We're so busy watching out for what's just ahead of us that we don't take time to enjoy where we are.
-Calvin and Hobbes, Bill Watterson
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“I hate you,â€

Title: Broken
Author: Endless
Genre: Drama/Angst
Pairing: KaiCon
Rating: T
Summary: He knew, never in a million years, would he ever be able to offer the thief his hatred.  KaiCon.
A/N: Cliché fics to the max!  Here’s yet another attempt to get over writer’s block.  Cookies to hopelessidiot for being the first one to read this!    

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We're so busy watching out for what's just ahead of us that we don't take time to enjoy where we are.
-Calvin and Hobbes, Bill Watterson
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“I hate you,â€

Psst...Ran was going to die in 'Broken' in the burning down building, but I changed that last minute.  xD

Title: Arise
Author: Endless
Rating: T
Pairing: KaiShin
Genre: Drama/Tragedy
Summary: To help him rise once again, he knows he’s going to have to fall.  But that’s all right.  KaiShin.

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All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.
-Havelock Ellis

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He stood there, in front of the still pond.  Lily pads and petals were strewn across the reflective surface, the clear water glittering like jewels.  Wind whistled through the reeds in a chipper, melodic tune which seemed to grow sorrowful every minute.

  He heard longing.  Yearning.  A desperate beauty that always existed in the saddest of things.  The darkest of hope that lived through death.

  The music played in their same somber tones, interlaced with both light and dark notes, reminding him that there was always an afterwards.

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  The fog was dense, a thick heavy cloud that weighed down on top of him.  He didn’t think he could bear its weight.  It was a suffocating, choking feeling…being trapped.  Being held prisoner by the inevitable.

  He screamed a silent curse to the black-and-white world around him, clutching the metal chains of the swing he rested on.  His voice was inaudible, unheard.  A mouth only hung open uselessly as he called for somebody, anybody.  And then he finally gave up, azure eyes pooling with tears, dripping onto his pale cheeks and falling away.

  It never ended.

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  Fingers lingered over the pond’s edge, dipping into the sapphire liquid.  A hand plunged itself in, tingling with water as it moved, setting off a hushed swell.

  The small wave lapped at the soft soil, gently pushing aside each grain of sand.  A smooth, stone was revealed, colored a grey-blue hue.

  A hand closed around the stone, clutching it with a lithe grasp.  Violet eyes shut, eyelids sliding into the shape of a crescent moon.

  “Please…â€