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His name is Nate River, and he has a lot of time left. Mello has seen that and thought, at first, to take it, but he doesn't need to and doesn't feel like it, at all. Weirdly, it makes him uneasy to think about it.
Nate is sitting on the floor of an office building, staring at nothing. He has long hair that, in this position, forms a white circle around him, and is surrounded by what looks like random kid's toys and documents. It's difficult to see inside buildings, and Mello is still learning how to do that. He'd picked this one for practice by chance, and wasn't expecting to find anything interesting inside.
And he didn't, not really. Nate is not interesting, nor is he doing anything warranting this level of attention. When Mello first caught a glance of him, he'd been sleeping in almost the same position as he is now. Or maybe he has just sat there motionless. It seems possible. Then, after an hour, he had gotten up and ventured out of the room and through the building. Mello had expected him to perhaps try to interact with some of the other humans sparsely positioned around, but he didn't. Instead, he has first visited the bathroom, then what looked like a small kitchen, from which he retrieved some weird looking orange-white sticks and a plate. After that, he had gone back, maneuvered through the toy covered floor, and returned to his spot. He had picked on the weird sticks for the next two hours, then set the empty plate as far away as he could reach without moving, and now he's not doing much but shuffling the papers around and fiddling with some plastic figures.
He is not, by any means, interesting. But he is so strange, Mello can't shake himself out of it. It's weird, all of this is. He should be doing more productive things.
Maybe he's waiting for something to finally happen. He doesn't know.
All of this is so confusing, really, and after spending so much time staring at one secluded weirdo, he can admit that to himself. It's supposed to be familiar, all things he once knew, but it isn't; it's just so much all at once. He thinks humans probably don't see it like that, don't see the whole picture from his angle, so maybe it doesn't overwhelm them like it does him. It can't, because how would they function otherwise? He kind of regrets yelling at Sidoh when he offered to teach him how to do it and not get lost. The crack in the ceiling runs to the horizon even if he can reach his hand and touch it, and it's doing things to his head. He hates it. He doesn't yet remember how it feels to have control, but he needs to. His body knows he needs to.
Another human enters the room so suddenly that Mello's feathers bristle, and he flinches, caught off guard. He had not seen him get close. Fuck, he really is terrible at this. He should be practising and not doing whatever this shit is.
This one has less time left and is named Anthony Carter. Nate looks up when he approaches, and it seems they start to talk. It's hard to see from here. He wishes he was down there to hear them speak, but it doesn't look like it's anything important, because after the guy leaves, Nate does not move from his place.
That can't be a good way to live, Mello thinks, then wonders why the hell he should care about that.
Whatever. It's clear nothing important is going to happen. He leaves the building and angles his sight to a street next to it. It is sunny, and even if the building had lamps inside, it still looks much more vibrant and moving. He looks at the pedestrians and the cars, and slowly moves away from that strange place. But he knows, even without his own input, that if he wants to, he will find it again.
The realisation is disturbing. He picks a car to follow down the road and tries to ignore it for now.