Recessional - L, Misa - Death Note
Title: Recessional
Pairing(s)/Character(s): L/Misa, some Light sprinkled in
Rating: PG.
Warnings: Contains spoilers.
Summary: She was used to having such profuse attention on her, but this was completely different. This was thorough scrutiny, a judging examination she didn't think she could pass.
Word Count: 2,630
The chain jingled in her lap. A glance to the right caught her the widened gaze of dark eyes, perfect circles of insomnia, like mirrors or opaque slates of black glass. She was used to having such profuse attention on her, but this was completely different. This was thorough scrutiny, a judging examination she didn't think she could pass. It was likely she would never get used to having that stare on her regardless of whether she was looking back or not, regardless of whether she pouted, frowned, or stuck her tongue out to get him to turn away in embarrassment of being caught watching. But he never did.
"Misa-san is not wearing the same thing she wore this morning," that low hum of a voice demurred, ragged fringe of hair not doing much to shield her of that prying gaze. But the observation drew Light's focus from his book long enough for him to show his irritation in a slight scowl, thumbing through another page. Then he went right back to it.
The chain jingled again against her thighs and Misa itched to push it off of her lap, but then it would only rub against her bare knees or tickle her ankles and she didn't want that. She had half a mind to whine aloud (not for the first time) of Light's unfair captivity she was indirectly suffering for, but before she could speak, L leaned past her. One arm stretched across the coffee table until he could get a fingertip hooked over the lip of a dish full of profusely sugared strawberries, slide it toward him, and successfully pick it up to carry it the rest of the way.
"She is wearing red now," L continued where he'd left off, as if the extensive pause was completely purposeful and the retrieval of strawberries all part of the conversation. He nibbled the end of one sugar-saturated fruit, forefinger and thumb holding it in place. "Does Light-kun like red?"
The college student appeared not to have heard initially, but finally a delayed response was given: "It's too bright." He said it simply, the way one blatantly expressed their annoyance when being pulled into discourse they'd rather not participate in.
"Ah," L muttered in thought, tipping his chin up and pressing the strawberry against his mouth, sucking on the bitten part. "Yes," he agreed at last. By now Misa's lips were pursed, and her urge to shift closer to Light's side was nearly overwhelming. "Then Light-kun does not like the color." His dark eyes slid from the first Kira suspect to the second in a long moment of silence, openly taking this into consideration. "So why does Misa-san wear red?"
"Because Misa likes red," the blonde girl snapped back in defense, tone almost as sweet as the strawberry L resumed chewing shortly after. Then again, she always sounded like that.
His brow rose in mock surprise at her reply, but thankfully, L didn't press the conversation on.
---
"Eighty-two point three percent," the genius detective had answered Misa one night, as truthfully as a liar could be. The admission brought a look of misery and gloom to the young girl's face, darkening the shine of happy, innocent eyes and dimming the glitter of gloss on her pink mouth. He felt he should have experienced a twinge of regret upon seeing her reaction, but the flow of sentiment inside of him remained stagnant.
"But then Light-kun will never be out of here!" she cried desperately, reaching for L's arm and attempting to wrench it from its socket. Of course, L was far stronger than her, and he easily pried her delicate fingers free from his elbow. Those, however, he thought, eyeing the glint of red nail polish coating sharp fingernails, could definitely do some damage.
The person in question sat not too far away on the sofa beside Misa, head pressed to the back of the seat and eyes closed. It was difficult to tell whether he was actually asleep or merely resting his eyesight due to the endless hours spent staring at a computer screen all day and into the night. L noted the even breathing, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and surmised he was indeed asleep. That made discussion with the blonde who remained awake a little easier without the attention of Light, but profoundly more awkward.
"Would Misa-san like some tea?" L asked instead of letting her dwell too long in her despair, cradling a sugar bowl in one palm while the other tended to swirling the steaming cup of tea Watari had poured for him not minutes ago. But Misa frowned in that same, frustrated way, brows furrowed and looking entirely distraught as she shook away his offer.
"Misa would like stupid Ryuuzaki to let Light-kun go," she whined, crossing both arms over her tight corset and turning her head away from him dismissively.
He didn't seem the least bit fazed. "Light-kun is sleeping; Misa-san should keep quiet or else wake him up." Her cheeks colored a pleasant pink at this mild reprimand, but the expression swiftly turned defeated as she brushed it off.
After another moment of silence, the subject was dropped and Misa pretended to be entirely oblivious with L sipping at his sugary tea while she crossed one knee over the other, arms locked over her chest.
But it didn't last. L spoke, commenting easily on her attire a second time, and from there Misa took her turn.
Their chatter was mostly one-sided because even as suspicious and annoyed as Misa was around Ryuuzaki, she managed to keep on talking and talking, never exhausting the ever-changing topics. She talked about how Ryuuzaki ate too much sugar and he should be fat and it wasn't fair he wasn't, because Misa would get fat if she ate as much as he did and that wouldn't be good because then her fans wouldn't like her anymore. She talked about getting lonely when Light-kun wasn't visiting and growing sick of reading magazines all day. She talked about clothes some more, too. How Ryuuzaki's wardrobe was absolutely awful, how he should add some excitement to his life. And while she talked and talked, he just listened and watched, utterly silent.
By the time Light stirred from his sleep, Misa had inched away from her position against his side and was fully facing L, caught in her conversation. She hadn't noticed him awakening until he'd told her to be quiet because she was giving him another headache.
She whined, but she stopped, and it was routine.
---
L came to immediate terms with the situation when he confronted Misa for the last time. It was only coincidence she was wearing strawberry-flavored lip-gloss, but it certainly didn't hurt anything.
It was early morning, and his wrist felt bare but somehow bruised, his mind stuck between depression and reflection. He'd hit another road block, and this time it was going to get the better of him if he didn't find some kind of anchor. Light and Misa were cleared of blame, and Light's declaration for returning Misa's love was unsettling because it was such a blatant lie. He wasn't sure if he wanted to punch the man or simply smile and offer his congratulations. It seemed like only yesterday Light had been explaining to him he didn't use a person's good will so heedlessly, that he refused to use Misa for the investigation because it was wrong and unmerited.
Yes. Kira was back.
His mood was sullen, hands shoved into deep pockets. He went at lengths to ignore the way the chafed skin of his bony wrist rubbed against the inside of the denim. With his head tilted back, wide eyes observed the ceiling as he walked, his shoulders slouched. Removing one hand from his pocket, L raised his thumb to his lips and began to chew, teeth tearing at the nail.
Light was a good liar; he could give him credit for that. But L was also substantial at keeping the truth just out of reach, good at manipulating others. Light didn't want to lose. And neither did he. They were both impeccably skilled. That was what kept this exciting.
He felt he should have been bothered by how easily Light seemed to toss around Misa's feelings now, how he could easily claim he'd finally fallen for the girl but hadn't realized it until now. Then again, L had no reason to feel that way, because he'd been the one to suggest using Misa's loyalty to unearth more about the second Kira earlier in the investigation. It had obviously been a ploy to see if Light would fall for the trap, and despite the fact Light had passed with expected perfection, the outcome only increased his dark mood.
L couldn't ignore it. He knew time was slipping away, trickling between the cracks of his mind the longer he accounted the possibility of failure. It had increased. He knew Light was Kira. Or, rather, he wanted Light to be Kira. It was practically impossible to consider Light any bit innocent, and L followed his instinct just as much as he followed his cold logic. It was more than an educated guess. It was the truth.
Stumbling upon Misa in the midst of his thoughts hadn't been on the agenda, but once he'd rounded the corner of the hall and felt someone else's body collide with his own, there wasn't much to do but assess the situation. L's eyes ached from watching the lights in the ceiling and he turned them toward his offender. Bright imprints of light lingered, burned into his retinas for several long moments. "Oh," came out in a surprised murmur as the detective lowered his thumb; "It's Misa-san."
The blonde made a face and took a step back, shouldering her black bag higher. "Ryuuzaki should watch where he's going! He almost ruined Misa's clothes!"
L wasn't about to comment on the fact Misa was at just as much fault as he was, because surely she would hear none of that. Instead, he stood there, posture stiff and bare toes curling. He noted absently how Misa looked much more awkward than he felt. It wasn't a whole minute before Misa claimed back some semblance of purpose and made a move to storm past him. "If stupid Ryuuzaki isn't going to give a goodbye, then Misa is leaving--"
But she didn't get that far.
For the split second between personal space and personal space invaded, L wondered if Misa was always this clumsy or if it was the downside of the excitement in finally being free, in finally seeing Light without a prying third party. But that was about as far as his thoughts got before the blonde model's foot caught an invisible snare in the floor and she went flailing forward, face-first into L's chest.
The squeal she let out was one of ear-splitting volume, coupled with his own low grunt as his back painfully met the ground and someone else's weight pinned him momentarily immobile. He didn't seem as offended as he did astonished, staring at Misa with open surprise. "Misa-san is very clumsy."
She struggled to get up, legs tangled with the detective and flushing pink with embarrassment. L, on the other hand, remained obstinate in his intrigue. He propped himself up on one elbow, leveling his passive stare. Then, in an impulsive act of curiosity, angled his head so he could close the distance between them in one swift movement, mouths meeting. Feather light and nothing lasting, but enough to render Misa incapable of thought process, reactions stalled in her shock.
Then all at once she shoved away with a shriek and stumbled back up onto her feet, flattening her skirt with one hand and covering her assaulted mouth with the other. "R-Ryuuzaki is a pervert!"
L took longer to get back on his feet, completely languid as he balanced in a crouch, licking his lips moist. "No," he replied mildly, voice a hum. He straightened then, taking advantage of her surprise by shoving his hands back into his pockets and fixing her with a serious expression. "Misa-san smells like strawberries." His tone was conversationally informative.
And after a pause: "She tastes like strawberries, too." As if this was all the explanation she required.
He could have easily evaded the slap she awarded him with for that statement, but instead he let the sting sink in as he watched her storm away, her cheeks tinted a darker pink than before. At least his mood had lightened somewhat. And he was smiling, a sly sort of simper that meant more than a simple testing of the waters.
---
"Light-kun," the dark-haired detective prompted suddenly, drawing back from the plate of strawberry shortcake he was steadily working his way through. "You have been awfully quiet this morning." It was too early for the rest of the investigation team to have arrived, other than Matsuda, who had passed out on the couch in his exhaustion but had yet to awaken. L lingered on the last half of the cake, fork limp in his hand. He felt...all wrong. Bringing this into light made him place the utensil down and turned his full attention to the Kira suspect.
"I'm tired," Light replied easily, brushing the comment off as he might a speck of dust marring one of his impeccable suits. But L knew better. Light seemed distracted and at the same time calm, comfortable. It was impossible to figure out.
That was why L asked his next question with no lesser level of seriousness than the first: "How is Amane-san?" She was no longer addressed as Misa-san; time brought distance, and it had been a while since he'd last spoken to the blonde. He had no need to.
But his question appeared to startle Light, and he glanced over. "Why? Nothing's changed."
"I was merely assuming something good had happened," the detective offered mildly, thumb taking the place where the fork previously was, pressing against his lower lip. "You seem particularly occupied. Perhaps Amane-san and you finally tied the knot."
The bluntness of his words made Light want to laugh at L and the absurdity of the statement, but instead he played it off as he would anything else, façade perfectly in place. "No, not yet." No, L had no idea what was on his mind, that he was actually entertaining thoughts of the other's death, how he knew it would soon. So very, very soon. He would be the ruler of the new world, and L would be wiped from existence. Their intelligence and cunning were evenly matched and he'd made a good opponent through this race for justice, but there could only be one winner.
Light smiled.
"I see," Ryuuzaki concluded, wide eyes turned to the ceiling in apparent contemplation. "Light-kun is very lucky."
Light smiled more. "Yes, I suppose I am. Misa is a wonderful girl."
L read through that without much effort. What Light meant to say was Misa Amane was a very useful girl, a very useful pawn by which he could claim his victory. So much for the innocent college student who would never use another's good will; Light was full of tricks, and Misa was no different to him. She was just a trick. A step closer to a perfect world, a quick-ticket to the throne.
"I think I am going to go outside for a bit," the detective announced suddenly, just as the door to the room opened and more members of the investigation team filed in. Rain could be heard pelting the windowpanes, growing louder, louder. And the bells.
He stood and departed. For an end of all ends.
Pairing(s)/Character(s): L/Misa, some Light sprinkled in
Rating: PG.
Warnings: Contains spoilers.
Summary: She was used to having such profuse attention on her, but this was completely different. This was thorough scrutiny, a judging examination she didn't think she could pass.
Word Count: 2,630
The chain jingled in her lap. A glance to the right caught her the widened gaze of dark eyes, perfect circles of insomnia, like mirrors or opaque slates of black glass. She was used to having such profuse attention on her, but this was completely different. This was thorough scrutiny, a judging examination she didn't think she could pass. It was likely she would never get used to having that stare on her regardless of whether she was looking back or not, regardless of whether she pouted, frowned, or stuck her tongue out to get him to turn away in embarrassment of being caught watching. But he never did.
"Misa-san is not wearing the same thing she wore this morning," that low hum of a voice demurred, ragged fringe of hair not doing much to shield her of that prying gaze. But the observation drew Light's focus from his book long enough for him to show his irritation in a slight scowl, thumbing through another page. Then he went right back to it.
The chain jingled again against her thighs and Misa itched to push it off of her lap, but then it would only rub against her bare knees or tickle her ankles and she didn't want that. She had half a mind to whine aloud (not for the first time) of Light's unfair captivity she was indirectly suffering for, but before she could speak, L leaned past her. One arm stretched across the coffee table until he could get a fingertip hooked over the lip of a dish full of profusely sugared strawberries, slide it toward him, and successfully pick it up to carry it the rest of the way.
"She is wearing red now," L continued where he'd left off, as if the extensive pause was completely purposeful and the retrieval of strawberries all part of the conversation. He nibbled the end of one sugar-saturated fruit, forefinger and thumb holding it in place. "Does Light-kun like red?"
The college student appeared not to have heard initially, but finally a delayed response was given: "It's too bright." He said it simply, the way one blatantly expressed their annoyance when being pulled into discourse they'd rather not participate in.
"Ah," L muttered in thought, tipping his chin up and pressing the strawberry against his mouth, sucking on the bitten part. "Yes," he agreed at last. By now Misa's lips were pursed, and her urge to shift closer to Light's side was nearly overwhelming. "Then Light-kun does not like the color." His dark eyes slid from the first Kira suspect to the second in a long moment of silence, openly taking this into consideration. "So why does Misa-san wear red?"
"Because Misa likes red," the blonde girl snapped back in defense, tone almost as sweet as the strawberry L resumed chewing shortly after. Then again, she always sounded like that.
His brow rose in mock surprise at her reply, but thankfully, L didn't press the conversation on.
---
"Eighty-two point three percent," the genius detective had answered Misa one night, as truthfully as a liar could be. The admission brought a look of misery and gloom to the young girl's face, darkening the shine of happy, innocent eyes and dimming the glitter of gloss on her pink mouth. He felt he should have experienced a twinge of regret upon seeing her reaction, but the flow of sentiment inside of him remained stagnant.
"But then Light-kun will never be out of here!" she cried desperately, reaching for L's arm and attempting to wrench it from its socket. Of course, L was far stronger than her, and he easily pried her delicate fingers free from his elbow. Those, however, he thought, eyeing the glint of red nail polish coating sharp fingernails, could definitely do some damage.
The person in question sat not too far away on the sofa beside Misa, head pressed to the back of the seat and eyes closed. It was difficult to tell whether he was actually asleep or merely resting his eyesight due to the endless hours spent staring at a computer screen all day and into the night. L noted the even breathing, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and surmised he was indeed asleep. That made discussion with the blonde who remained awake a little easier without the attention of Light, but profoundly more awkward.
"Would Misa-san like some tea?" L asked instead of letting her dwell too long in her despair, cradling a sugar bowl in one palm while the other tended to swirling the steaming cup of tea Watari had poured for him not minutes ago. But Misa frowned in that same, frustrated way, brows furrowed and looking entirely distraught as she shook away his offer.
"Misa would like stupid Ryuuzaki to let Light-kun go," she whined, crossing both arms over her tight corset and turning her head away from him dismissively.
He didn't seem the least bit fazed. "Light-kun is sleeping; Misa-san should keep quiet or else wake him up." Her cheeks colored a pleasant pink at this mild reprimand, but the expression swiftly turned defeated as she brushed it off.
After another moment of silence, the subject was dropped and Misa pretended to be entirely oblivious with L sipping at his sugary tea while she crossed one knee over the other, arms locked over her chest.
But it didn't last. L spoke, commenting easily on her attire a second time, and from there Misa took her turn.
Their chatter was mostly one-sided because even as suspicious and annoyed as Misa was around Ryuuzaki, she managed to keep on talking and talking, never exhausting the ever-changing topics. She talked about how Ryuuzaki ate too much sugar and he should be fat and it wasn't fair he wasn't, because Misa would get fat if she ate as much as he did and that wouldn't be good because then her fans wouldn't like her anymore. She talked about getting lonely when Light-kun wasn't visiting and growing sick of reading magazines all day. She talked about clothes some more, too. How Ryuuzaki's wardrobe was absolutely awful, how he should add some excitement to his life. And while she talked and talked, he just listened and watched, utterly silent.
By the time Light stirred from his sleep, Misa had inched away from her position against his side and was fully facing L, caught in her conversation. She hadn't noticed him awakening until he'd told her to be quiet because she was giving him another headache.
She whined, but she stopped, and it was routine.
---
L came to immediate terms with the situation when he confronted Misa for the last time. It was only coincidence she was wearing strawberry-flavored lip-gloss, but it certainly didn't hurt anything.
It was early morning, and his wrist felt bare but somehow bruised, his mind stuck between depression and reflection. He'd hit another road block, and this time it was going to get the better of him if he didn't find some kind of anchor. Light and Misa were cleared of blame, and Light's declaration for returning Misa's love was unsettling because it was such a blatant lie. He wasn't sure if he wanted to punch the man or simply smile and offer his congratulations. It seemed like only yesterday Light had been explaining to him he didn't use a person's good will so heedlessly, that he refused to use Misa for the investigation because it was wrong and unmerited.
Yes. Kira was back.
His mood was sullen, hands shoved into deep pockets. He went at lengths to ignore the way the chafed skin of his bony wrist rubbed against the inside of the denim. With his head tilted back, wide eyes observed the ceiling as he walked, his shoulders slouched. Removing one hand from his pocket, L raised his thumb to his lips and began to chew, teeth tearing at the nail.
Light was a good liar; he could give him credit for that. But L was also substantial at keeping the truth just out of reach, good at manipulating others. Light didn't want to lose. And neither did he. They were both impeccably skilled. That was what kept this exciting.
He felt he should have been bothered by how easily Light seemed to toss around Misa's feelings now, how he could easily claim he'd finally fallen for the girl but hadn't realized it until now. Then again, L had no reason to feel that way, because he'd been the one to suggest using Misa's loyalty to unearth more about the second Kira earlier in the investigation. It had obviously been a ploy to see if Light would fall for the trap, and despite the fact Light had passed with expected perfection, the outcome only increased his dark mood.
L couldn't ignore it. He knew time was slipping away, trickling between the cracks of his mind the longer he accounted the possibility of failure. It had increased. He knew Light was Kira. Or, rather, he wanted Light to be Kira. It was practically impossible to consider Light any bit innocent, and L followed his instinct just as much as he followed his cold logic. It was more than an educated guess. It was the truth.
Stumbling upon Misa in the midst of his thoughts hadn't been on the agenda, but once he'd rounded the corner of the hall and felt someone else's body collide with his own, there wasn't much to do but assess the situation. L's eyes ached from watching the lights in the ceiling and he turned them toward his offender. Bright imprints of light lingered, burned into his retinas for several long moments. "Oh," came out in a surprised murmur as the detective lowered his thumb; "It's Misa-san."
The blonde made a face and took a step back, shouldering her black bag higher. "Ryuuzaki should watch where he's going! He almost ruined Misa's clothes!"
L wasn't about to comment on the fact Misa was at just as much fault as he was, because surely she would hear none of that. Instead, he stood there, posture stiff and bare toes curling. He noted absently how Misa looked much more awkward than he felt. It wasn't a whole minute before Misa claimed back some semblance of purpose and made a move to storm past him. "If stupid Ryuuzaki isn't going to give a goodbye, then Misa is leaving--"
But she didn't get that far.
For the split second between personal space and personal space invaded, L wondered if Misa was always this clumsy or if it was the downside of the excitement in finally being free, in finally seeing Light without a prying third party. But that was about as far as his thoughts got before the blonde model's foot caught an invisible snare in the floor and she went flailing forward, face-first into L's chest.
The squeal she let out was one of ear-splitting volume, coupled with his own low grunt as his back painfully met the ground and someone else's weight pinned him momentarily immobile. He didn't seem as offended as he did astonished, staring at Misa with open surprise. "Misa-san is very clumsy."
She struggled to get up, legs tangled with the detective and flushing pink with embarrassment. L, on the other hand, remained obstinate in his intrigue. He propped himself up on one elbow, leveling his passive stare. Then, in an impulsive act of curiosity, angled his head so he could close the distance between them in one swift movement, mouths meeting. Feather light and nothing lasting, but enough to render Misa incapable of thought process, reactions stalled in her shock.
Then all at once she shoved away with a shriek and stumbled back up onto her feet, flattening her skirt with one hand and covering her assaulted mouth with the other. "R-Ryuuzaki is a pervert!"
L took longer to get back on his feet, completely languid as he balanced in a crouch, licking his lips moist. "No," he replied mildly, voice a hum. He straightened then, taking advantage of her surprise by shoving his hands back into his pockets and fixing her with a serious expression. "Misa-san smells like strawberries." His tone was conversationally informative.
And after a pause: "She tastes like strawberries, too." As if this was all the explanation she required.
He could have easily evaded the slap she awarded him with for that statement, but instead he let the sting sink in as he watched her storm away, her cheeks tinted a darker pink than before. At least his mood had lightened somewhat. And he was smiling, a sly sort of simper that meant more than a simple testing of the waters.
---
"Light-kun," the dark-haired detective prompted suddenly, drawing back from the plate of strawberry shortcake he was steadily working his way through. "You have been awfully quiet this morning." It was too early for the rest of the investigation team to have arrived, other than Matsuda, who had passed out on the couch in his exhaustion but had yet to awaken. L lingered on the last half of the cake, fork limp in his hand. He felt...all wrong. Bringing this into light made him place the utensil down and turned his full attention to the Kira suspect.
"I'm tired," Light replied easily, brushing the comment off as he might a speck of dust marring one of his impeccable suits. But L knew better. Light seemed distracted and at the same time calm, comfortable. It was impossible to figure out.
That was why L asked his next question with no lesser level of seriousness than the first: "How is Amane-san?" She was no longer addressed as Misa-san; time brought distance, and it had been a while since he'd last spoken to the blonde. He had no need to.
But his question appeared to startle Light, and he glanced over. "Why? Nothing's changed."
"I was merely assuming something good had happened," the detective offered mildly, thumb taking the place where the fork previously was, pressing against his lower lip. "You seem particularly occupied. Perhaps Amane-san and you finally tied the knot."
The bluntness of his words made Light want to laugh at L and the absurdity of the statement, but instead he played it off as he would anything else, façade perfectly in place. "No, not yet." No, L had no idea what was on his mind, that he was actually entertaining thoughts of the other's death, how he knew it would soon. So very, very soon. He would be the ruler of the new world, and L would be wiped from existence. Their intelligence and cunning were evenly matched and he'd made a good opponent through this race for justice, but there could only be one winner.
Light smiled.
"I see," Ryuuzaki concluded, wide eyes turned to the ceiling in apparent contemplation. "Light-kun is very lucky."
Light smiled more. "Yes, I suppose I am. Misa is a wonderful girl."
L read through that without much effort. What Light meant to say was Misa Amane was a very useful girl, a very useful pawn by which he could claim his victory. So much for the innocent college student who would never use another's good will; Light was full of tricks, and Misa was no different to him. She was just a trick. A step closer to a perfect world, a quick-ticket to the throne.
"I think I am going to go outside for a bit," the detective announced suddenly, just as the door to the room opened and more members of the investigation team filed in. Rain could be heard pelting the windowpanes, growing louder, louder. And the bells.
He stood and departed. For an end of all ends.