Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Rem came through the wall, Light Yagami was sitting at his desk, musing on how to handle Misa’s capture. Without the ability to contact her or Rem, he couldn’t coordinate their plans or be certain that Misa would hold up under questioning. He was beginning to think that he would have to follow through on his promise to kill Misa before she could talk. So, when Rem appeared in his bedroom, Light had to fight back a smile. One way or another, this was sure to give him more options.

“Where is Misa?” he asked the shinigami as she glowered down at him. “Is she dead?”

“If Misa were dead, you would already be dead as well. No. I only forced her to forfeit her ownership of the Death Note. She begged me to kill her, to protect you, but I wouldn’t do it.”

“Ah.” Light reclined in his chair. He had to restrain himself from reacting; if Rem thought that he was fine with what Misa was going through, he would be in even more danger. She was volatile, after all, and he had already failed to protect Misa only a few days after making the promise. “So she has lost her memories?”

Rem nodded solemnly. Her voice was calm, but her eyes were burning. “Misa no longer remembers acting as Kira, or owning the Death Note. She doesn’t know that shimigami exist, nor can she see me anymore. And she doesn’t remember that you are Kira, either.”

“What about me? Light Yagami, not Kira? Does she remember me?” Rem nodded again. Is this a good thing, or a bad thing? he wondered. The task force already knows I am involved with Misa, so forgetting me would probably just make her seem more suspicious. “And the eyes?”

“She no longer has the eyes. Even if she regains ownership of the note, they won’t return.”

“Not unless she makes the deal again,” Ryuk piped up. Rem shot him a dark look, but he just chortled.

“I won’t allow that. She already gave half of her lifespan for Light once, and he failed to use the eyes and let her be captured. She won’t be doing it again.”

This, of course, threw a wrench in Light’s plans. If he wanted Misa to find L’s name for him, she would have to make the deal with Ryuk instead, and Rem might still interfere. Still, he’d deal with that problem when it happened. For now, he had more pressing matters.

“Alright, then, I’ll come up with a plan to save her. That’s what you want, right? I also have a few ideas of what we should do.”

“No.”

Rem brought one hand down, heavily, on the desk in front of him, and Light’s head snapped up to stare at her in shock. “No, you don’t want me to save her?”

“No, I don’t want more of your plans. Meeting you was a curse for Misa. Maybe meeting me was one, too. Everything you say sounds smart, but she avoided capture for months by herself. Three days after she met you, she was arrested. You have brought nothing but pain to Misa’s life.”

Light clenched his teeth, fighting back the urge to yell at her. He knew it wouldn’t make a difference, but still, how could she blame him when it was Misa’s own idiocy that had gotten her captured and jeopardized Light’s plans? He consciously forced his face to relax again and asked, “What do you want me to do, then?”

Rem’s answer was instant and confident; she must have been thinking about it on the way to his house. “Cut ties with her. Break up with Misa and tell the task force that you want nothing more to do with her. With you out of her life, and her memories of the Death Note gone, they’ll have to release her sooner or later. Then she can go back to her normal life.”

Light shut his eyes for a moment, trying to figure out a way to use this to his advantage. “If I’m caught, though, they might still be able to tie Misa to me.”

“Then forfeit your note as well.”

“Absolutely not,” Light snapped. “Threaten all you want. I would rather die than give up on my dream of building a new world. I can’t just go back to my everyday life now. I’ll never accept that.”

“Plus, when this game is over, I’ll just kill Light myself,” Ryuk interjected. Thanks for the support, Light thought wryly. How is it that Misa gets not one, but two shinigami ready to throw their immortal lives away on her behalf, while I’m stuck with this clown who would probably stab me in the back for a slice of apple pie?

“Okay,” Rem said. “Cut Misa free and I will help you to defeat L and avoid capture. I’ll go along with any plan you come up with, as long as Misa is left out of it.”

Light ducked his head as if deep in thought, but he was actually just hiding his face so that Rem wouldn’t notice his probably-maniacal grin. He had to struggle to keep his triumph under control. “Hmm,” he mused, as if idly considering the idea. As if he hadn’t already decided how everything would play out from here. “I suppose I might do better with Misa out of the way. She’s proved herself to be more of a liability than a resource. The only things I needed her for were her loyalty and the shinigami eyes, and she’s already lost the latter.” At this, he made sure to look Rem directly in the eyes. He wanted to see her barely controlled rage at the dismissive way he discussed Misa. He wanted to see her realize that she was forced to follow his orders now.

“In that case, I think I’ll accept your offer. We will find someone who is deeply loyal to Kira and Kira’s vision of the world, someone who is willing to make the trade for the shinigami eyes. Someone who is disposable, so that it won’t bother you to let them die or be captured if necessary. This will kill two birds with one stone. I can use the new Kira to find L’s name and defeat him, just like I had planned to use Misa, only this Kira will follow my plans and won’t get himself caught. He can keep the killings up even if L increases his surveillance of me. And the appearance of a new Kira who can kill with only a face should be interpreted by the task force, if not by L, as evidence of Misa’s innocence.”

The relief on Rem’s face was so obvious that Light wanted to laugh. The shinigami seemed incapable of hiding her emotions; the way she wore her heart on her sleeve, in the form of her feelings for Misa, made it simple to manipulate her. Even if she had proven to be a little smarter than he thought.

“I’ll accept this plan. But first thing, you need to go to the headquarters and break things off with Misa.”

Light, of course, maintained his poker face. The only place he allowed himself to laugh was in his mind. Ryuk, on the other hand, laughed hard enough for both of them, like he could pull Light’s thoughts right out of his head.

Light did not go into the headquarters right away. He had a few preparations to make first. Before doing anything else, he convinced Ryuk and Rem to trade ownership of the Death Notes. Misa was unlikely to get her hands on either note, but he wanted the one connected to her memories to stay on his person, so that if she somehow ran into the new Kira, or if Rem changed her mind about staying away from Misa, she wouldn't regain her memories. The last thing he needed was Misa running around on her own, messing up his plans.

Then, relinquishing his ownership of Rem’s new notebook, he sent her along to contact the person of his choosing. Someone who would be loyal, who would make the trade for the shinigami eyes. She had wanted to follow him to meet with L, to make sure he kept his word, but he had explained that it would be best if the second Kira’s killings were already continuing when he went to speak with them. The team needed to be at least willing to second-guess their arrest of Misa. Plus, a few days spent questioning the innocent, amnesiac Misa should hopefully sow the seeds of doubt.

Secondly, he had to bury his own notebook in the forest. He wasn’t planning to leave it there for long; he would return for it eventually. But with suspicions heightened, he wasn’t willing to go to the headquarters in person until his own notebook was secure. L might decide to take him custody against his will, now that they had reasonable suspicion of his girlfriend, and if that happened, they would definitely search his person and, almost certainly, his house as well.

Returning to the task force headquarters felt like Light imagined going to war must feel. He had no way of knowing if he would be allowed to leave the building again. If L took him into custody, he would fall back on his original plan: forfeiting his ownership and memories of the death note and working with L to catch the new Kira that Rem had appointed. But she had made it very clear that she wanted Light to extricate himself from Misa’s situation as much as possible, and would be unhappy if both of them ended up staying there together. Especially since, without his memories, Light wouldn’t know that his survival hinged on his ability to free Misa from any connection to Kira.

But despite these layers of protection, his heart was still pounding as he walked into the headquarters. Light felt all of their eyes on him as he entered the room. Matsuda looked worried, almost sympathetic. His father looked drained, as if he hadn’t slept in days. And L… his face, as always, was neutral, but Light could pick up on a sense of smugness around him. Once again, Light considered sticking with his original plan and “turning himself in,” but Rem was certain to find out if he reneged on his word.

“I’d like to speak with Misa,” Light said.

“Light, I’m sure you understand that I can’t let you do that,” L responded evenly. “Regardless of whether she is your girlfriend, she is, first and foremost, a Kira suspect. We can’t even allow her to see anyone.”

Light put all of his energy into sounding sincere. “That’s why I need to speak to her, L. If she is the second Kira, then I don’t want anything to do with her. But if she’s not, then our relationship is part of what led her to be falsely accused.”

L peered up at him from under the shaggy black hair covering his eyes. He hadn’t even left his chair. “It’s not like that, Light. There was plenty of evidence that pointed to Miss Amane.”

The harsh sound of Light’s laughter seemed to startle the officers in the room, even as L remained unmoved. “Please. You and I both know that it was her association with me that led you to investigate Misa in the first place, even if the evidence that led you to arrest her was unrelated to me. You’re obsessed with the idea that I’m Kira.”

“Because you are—” L began, but Light cut him off.

“I should have known better than to try to have a normal life and relationship while being suspected of something like this. I’m here to make it right. I want nothing more to do with Misa Amane. I wasn’t that serious about her anyway, and being involved with me has only made her life worse. And I don’t want to be connected to someone who is suspected of being the second Kira, since I’m innocent. All of this is too much trouble.”

He ignored Matsuda’s look of shock. I need them to believe that I don’t care for her and will have no contact with her after this. Which shouldn’t be too difficult, since it’s true. Even if they continue to suspect me, there’s still a chance that they’ll believe I forced Misa to act as Kira and then discarded her. That would make Rem happy.

“Hmm.” L’s finger moved against his lip slowly. “Even if that were true, it’s not safe for anyone to speak with her. And it could interfere with our investigation.”

It seemed about time for Light to use his trump card. “Come on. I’ve been paying attention to the news as much as you. We both know Kira, or the second Kira, has continued to punish criminals whose faces weren’t shown. If the only thing stopping you from releasing Misa, or at least allowing her more freedom, is the off chance that she might be able to kill by seeing your faces, then you can use me. I feel responsible for her. She already knows my face and name, so talking to her won’t be more dangerous than my current situation if she is Kira. And you can use me to test her, rather than having to expose anyone else to danger.”

And, finally, L seemed to take the bait. Rising slowly from his chair, he cracked his neck and gave Light a curious stare. “Is that so?”

Got him.

Chapter Text

Misa was startled by the sound of the door opening. No one had spoken to her in awhile, so she had settled into a sort of detached state, going limp and letting her head rest against the visor covering her eyes as she tried to take herself far away from the current situation. She had lost count of how many days she had been held here, being held in this uncomfortable contraption and asked weird questions about Kira and about her personal life. Her only real hope now was that her stalker would eventually get bored of this and at least let her out of this device. Even if he wanted to do something weird with her, she just wanted to be able to lay down and see things again.

So when the door opened, she jolted in her restraints, heart racing. She had already used the bathroom recently and it wasn’t time for a meal, which meant that something else must be happening. “Mr. Stalker?” she gasped. “Are you going to let me free? I promise I won’t scream or fight or anything.”

“Misa, it’s me.”

The sound of Light’s voice was the most amazing thing Misa had ever heard in her life. In her sleep-deprived, emotionally unstable state, just the knowledge that Light was here caused her to break out in tears of gratitude. He approached her, coming so close she could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, and undid her restraints, gently lifting her free of the device. Her entire body was trembling and she felt too weak to even support her own weight, but Light didn’t let her fall. He lifted her into his arms and deposited her gently in a chair. She blinked in the harsh flourescents as her eyes adjusted to light for the first time in days.

Light took a seat in the other chair in the room. She wondered if the chairs had been there the whole time, or if they had moved them in while Light was freeing her from the restraints. She hadn’t been listening very closely. Misa couldn’t stop shivering, wondering why he had sat apart from her instead of continuing to hold her. She felt so cold.

“Light? I don’t understand, what’s happening? Why are you here? Did you find the people who kidnapped me?” Her voice was raspy from days of screaming.

Light sighed, leaning forward to look her in the eye. “You weren’t kidnapped, Misa, you were arrested. L found out that you and I are the first and second Kira. There’s no use in denying it. Now that I’m here, we’ll both be taken to jail to await execution.”

Whatever Misa had been expecting her boyfriend to say, it wasn’t that. “W-what? What do you mean, L found out? We’re not Kira.”

“Misa, please,” Light said. “This might be our last time to speak freely with each other before we’re taken to jail. You don’t have to pretend any longer. I just wanted to tell you what a good job you did as the second Kira. I’m proud of you, and I’m sorry we got caught.”

Misa’s head was spinning. Was this entire thing a dream? Was Light even really here? Why would he be saying that he was Kira, that Misa was the second Kira, when they both knew it wasn’t true?

Unless… If he was telling the truth about L being the one behind her imprisonment… The voice had been asking her a lot of questions about Kira.

Misa leaned forward, trying her best to clear her head, and looked Light directly in the eyes as she fiercely whispered, “Light, are they forcing you to say this? Did they threaten you? I can play along and pretend to be Kira if I need to. Just… just tell me what to do.”

Light sighed, bringing one hand up to his forehead. He didn’t whisper when he responded, just spoke in a normal voice. “Misa, you know they have microphones on both of us, right? L heard everything you just said.”

She wanted to hit herself. I’m so stupid! “I-I’m sorry, Light. I’ve been here for so long. I don’t know what to do anymore.” Misa wrapped her arms around herself, clutching at her own upper arms. They felt even frailer than usual. She had been too scared to eat much.

“It’s okay,” Light said with a sigh. “To tell the truth, I was just trying to help L by seeing if you would confess to me that you were the second Kira, but it seems like I failed.”

“What are you talking about, Light? You know I’m not!” Misa couldn’t keep up with what was happening anymore. His mood kept changing so quickly, and his story along with it. She just wanted him to take her away from here, take her somewhere she could rest.

“I’m sorry, but the evidence against you is really damning. L has determined that you are the second Kira for certain, and I believe him. It would go better for you if you would just admit it. But if I can’t get the truth out of you, then there’s no more reason for us to talk.”

“W-what? What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to date a woman who’s working for Kira. I’ve only known you a short time and you’ve already caused me so much trouble and made everyone suspicious of me. To be honest, I don’t want anything more to do with you.”

Misa felt like her heart was going to burst. She crumpled from her chair, letting herself slide down to the floor, where she sat, reaching out towards Light’s chair, staring up at him. “Please, Light, I promise I’m not Kira! I don’t know anything about him! Please, just give me a chance. I’ll show you I’m innocent and we can be together again.”

When Light looked down at her, his eyes were cold. “I’m sorry, Misa. Even if you’re innocent, you’re just too much trouble. I tried to date you because you asked me to, but honestly, you’re too much for me. You’re so loud and childish, and I’d rather date a more sophisticated woman. I have a reputation to maintain. You’re beneath me, Misa.”

It surprised Misa, the strength of the anger that swept up through her body. She wouldn’t have thought she had the energy for it. “Are you saying you want to date someone else?” she demanded, grabbing at Light’s hand, her fingernails digging into his skin.

Light snatched his hand out of her grasp and shoved her backwards. “I already am.”

The sound of her shriek surprised even Misa. It was something primal, a sound even she didn’t know she could make. Light didn’t say anything, only looked down at her. She remembered, as if in a dream, telling Light, “If that happens, I’ll kill that girl.” She didn’t know who he was seeing, though. Even if she could find out later and do something about it, it wouldn’t assauge her anger, not in this moment. But if she couldn’t get the girl, she could still destroy Light. She would kill him here and now, and he would regret betraying her. She just had to… She just…

Why couldn’t she remember? Where had it come from, that absolute certainty, that confidence that she had the power to kill Light for betraying her? It felt somehow the same as deciding whether she should stand or sit: there was no question about whether she could do it, only whether she should. But when she tried to reach for it, the knowledge of whatever weapon she knew she had, it slipped through her fingers, and she was just a girl again. Just a scared, stupid girl, crying on the floor in front of a boy who had never loved her at all. Powerless.

The silence stretched on, with Misa sobbing on the floor and Light staring down at her, before he spun to face the camera in the corner. “See, L? I’m still alive after all.” W-what?

The voice, that same disembodied voice that had been taunting her for days, just said, “Yes, I suppose you are.” A moment later, the door opened once again, and another man walked in. He was tall but hunched over, with messy black hair and dark-rimmed eyes, and Misa realized with a shock that she recognized him.

“Hideki Ryuuga?!” she gasped. Light’s classmate from college? None of this makes any sense! She had just met him the same day she was kidnapped (or, she supposed, arrested). She remembered thinking he seemed unique and cool, and him telling her that he was a fan of hers. But there had been something confusing about him, right? Why couldn’t she remember?

Light ignored her, turning to face Ryuuga. “Are you satisfied, L? You heard her scream. You saw her eyes. If Misa had the power to kill someone, I wouldn’t have survived that encounter.”

L?!

“You don’t have to explain that to me, Light,” the man retorted. “If I weren’t convinced, do you think I would have shown my face?”

Light chuckled. “Of course. I shouldn’t have underestimated you. Can I leave now?”

“For now. I may decide to bring you in for questioning later. But you’ll understand if we keep Miss Amane here, right? There’s still evidence that she’s connected to the second Kira somehow, even if their killings have continued while she’s been in our custody. Maybe she knows them. And I don’t want to release her yet, in case Kira decides to contact her.” The way Ryuuga—L—said the word Kira, the way he stared at Light as he said it, made it clear who he meant.

They were talking like she wasn’t even there. It made her feel so small and insignificant. She couldn’t follow anything they were saying, so she just stared at Light in shock.

“Light?” Misa asked, unsteadily climbing to her feet with the help of the chair. She had one last shred of hope. “That was just an act, then? To prove I wasn’t the second Kira? You didn’t mean those horrible things you said?”

Light glanced back at her, his eyes seeming a million miles away. “I wouldn’t have been so mean if I wasn’t trying to provoke you,” he admitted. “But I really did mean it. I don’t want to be involved with you anymore, Misa. I think it’s for the best that we don’t see each other again.” Turning back to face L, he said, “Do what you like with her. I’m going home.”

As Light reached the door, Misa gathered her strength enough to try to pursue him. “Light, you can’t just leave me here!” she cried. “Please, I love you! I’ll do anything you ask, I’ll prove your innocence and help you catch Kira! You can do whatever you want with me, just please, please don’t leave me!”

He didn’t even turn around. Misa tried to grab his sleeve, crying out his name in between sobs, but Light yanked himself free and left the room, and she lost her balance. She fell forward, but L moved to catch her, both to stop her from falling and to make sure she didn’t follow Light. Misa screamed and pounded her fists against L’s chest. He didn’t let go, only gently held her in place. As she sobbed and weakly struggled in his arms, she thought that, under the sound of her cries, she heard him say, “I’m sorry, Misa.” But it might have just been her imagination.

L watched in silence from his chair as Misa was escorted to her new room by Watari. She had finally stopped crying and her eyes had gone dull as she followed the older man without saying a word. Unlike what the task force seemed to believe, he hadn’t allowed her out of the cell because he believed she wasn’t the second Kira, or even because he thought he was safe. In fact, he had already informed the squad that if he died soon after this, they should consider that definite proof that she was the second Kira. No, he had other motivations, ones that outweighed his desire to be as cautious as possible.

He stared off into space, ignoring the chatter of the men around him, as he tried to get his thoughts in order. What did he believe, and what possibilities could he infer from what had just happened?

L was still 99% sure that Light Yagami was the original Kira, and that the person acting as the second Kira had been Misa Amane. He also believed that there was someone else with the power to kill without a name now. It could be that Light had somehow acquired the power, or it could be that a third Kira had entered the mix. And he believed that, somehow, something strange had happened to Misa while she was in that cell. Something had changed inside of her. Maybe she had lost the power to kill, or maybe she had somehow forgotten that she had it.

What could he infer from this? He thought there were three likely options.

Option 1: This was all part of a plan that Light and Misa had made. They had somehow seen this coming, and Misa was exactly where they wanted her to be. Maybe the whole thing was an act, and she had never really believed that Light was breaking up with her, and now was just biding her time until she could kill L for him. If this was true, L was in a lot of danger. It was probably the worst case scenario, especially since, he remembered with a twinge of annoyance, Light had gone out of his way to refer to him as "L" in front of Misa as he left.

He didn’t believe she was that good of a liar, though. It was more likely that their plan somehow involved transferring Misa’s power, temporarily, to another person, erasing her memories and leaving her innocent enough to escape L’s suspicion. But Light had seemed genuinely shocked and upset when L had arrested Misa. If he had planned all of this, he would have to be a really amazing actor. And if this plan had been made after Misa’s arrest, Light wouldn’t have had a way to communicate it to her.

Then again, this case already involved the power to kill someone from hundreds or thousands of miles away with just a name and a face, and the ability to transfer that power from person to person, possibly in a way that altered a person’s memories. In the face of all that, could he really rule out telepathic communication?

Option 2: Light, as Kira, had the ability to share his power with others and to control them to some extent. He had chosen Misa and forced her to kill for him as the second Kira. When she got arrested, he had decided that she was no longer useful and had taken the powers back, leaving her with no memory of the crimes she committed.

If this was true, though, why would he choose a celebrity like Misa Amane, rather than someone who could fly under the radar? And if she was acting under Light’s orders the whole time, then he would have been the one who got careless and allowed her to be caught. That seemed unlikely, given how cautious he had been on his own.

Also, if Light had the ability to share the killing power with others, was there a limit to it? Was it a single ability that could be passed from person to person, only belonging to one at a time, or was it like a candle that could light a hundred other candles from its flame? L thought the first possibility was more likely. If Light could create an unlimited number of Kiras and control them, he would have already given the power to many more people in order to draw suspicion from himself. And he wouldn’t have needed to revoke Misa’s power to give it to someone else. Since the second Kira’s killings had resumed the same day that Misa suddenly started calling him “Mr. Stalker,” he thought that it was necessary for her to lose the power so that someone else could have it.

Option 3: Misa had acquired the second Kira’s powers on her own and had originally been acting independently, rather than being controlled by Light. As the first Kira, he had attempted to control her and use her in his plans, but she had been reckless and gotten herself caught. In some way or another, even though she gained the powers on her own, Light had been able to revoke her powers, either to use them himself or to pass them on to another person. Now that Light had access to the second Kira’s powers without needing Misa, she had become disposable, so Light had decided to cut ties with her to protect himself. Maybe temporarily, maybe permanently.

If this was the case, were Misa’s abilities and memories of being the second Kira gone forever, or could she recover them somehow?

Despite all of this, despite his deep-seated instinct that no one but Misa Amane could have been the second Kira, L had decided to let her out of her cell. Why? Because, unless this was an astoundingly well thought-out and executed plot, Misa was currently isolated, cut off from Light and without her abilities, whatever those were. She believed that she had been abandoned completely by Light, and that might even be true. If he had found a way to give her abilities to someone else, or to use them himself, then he might not need Misa anymore. But she might be able to get those powers back, and even if she couldn’t, she might be holding on to some memories that could incriminate Light.

In other words, it was like Light had left a powerful weapon in their laps. Misa might be disarmed for now, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be a threat in the future. L hadn’t allowed her to leave her cell and see his face because he thought she wasn’t dangerous, but rather because he thought she was, or that she had been dangerous once and might become so again. And when that day came, what would become of Light if Misa was on the opposite side? Whether all she had to offer was her possibly incriminating memories of Light, or if she could use the second Kira’s full powers, allowing her to fall into L’s hands might have been Light’s fatal mistake.

Misa Amane might be totally innocent now, and it was possible that she might live the rest of her live without ever regaining her memories or power to kill, but she also might be a ticking time-bomb. If L found a way to take advantage of the fact that Light had discarded her, and somehow could win Misa over to his side before she detonated? That might just be a way to turn the tables on Kira once and for all.

Of course, after holding her captive and coercing Light into destroying her emotionally, L was probably the person Misa hated most in the world right now. He would have to find a way to win her trust back if he had any hope of this working.

L almost wanted to laugh. For all his planning and detective work, the Kira case might end up depending on his ability to become Misa Amane’s trusted friend.

Chapter Text

Misa cried for a solid week.

Most of it, she spent in her suite at the headquarters. She was allowed to leave her room, but whenever she did, the men stared at her, at her ugly pajamas that she couldn’t be bothered to change out of, at her swollen red eyes, at the small sniffles she made. It made her feel like the ghost of a scorned woman, cursed to haunt this hotel. Some horror story about a beautiful young girl who had thrown herself from the roof after being betrayed by her lover. It wasn’t far from the truth.

Not that she minded that. Misa figured it served them right for taking her captive, messing with her head like that, encouraging Light to break her heart. They couldn’t even let her go home and drown in her sorrows in private. She was forced to stay here, her humiliation a spectacle for everyone to watch. Plus, they were trying to catch her hero, Kira. So if her sniffling and gross appearance, so different from her public image, was making them uncomfortable and making it difficult for them to work, good. That was what they deserved.

But still, Misa had years of training as an idol telling her not to let others see her in such a state. She was too depressed to try to be beautiful and cheerful right now, but she hadn’t lost herself enough to feel unashamed of it. She still felt that awful sense of being watched, like any weakness she showed would be jumped upon by the paparazzi and plastered all over the women’s magazines, even though the only people she interacted with were the investigators. It didn’t help that Matsuda treated her like an idol, or that even L, the freak that he was, had admitted to being a fan of hers. (She still struggled to believe that the strange man she had met at Light’s university had been L all along, but then again, what part of her life wasn’t strange anymore?) As much as she despised them, Misa still wanted to impress them in some stupid way.

So she mostly stuck to her bedroom. She slept a lot, more than she had in years. Misa had been always on the go, running from photoshoot to fan meet and greet to finding time for her boyfriend (ex-boyfriend, now, her traitorous brain reminded her). Then she had been held captive, physically immobile but filled with adrenaline, fear, and confusion.

Going from that to being shut up in a hotel room, with no pressing danger but nothing for her to do, being forbidden to leave but otherwise left to her own devices, was quite the shock to her system. And every morning, when Misa woke up, she was forced to remember all over again that Light had left her. To remember the things he had said to her. It was like when she lost her parents all over again, waking up every morning only to remember, to think: I can’t believe this is my life. To wish she could sleep forever, or maybe die, just to avoid facing another day.

Maybe losing her boyfriend of less than a week couldn’t be compared to finding the dead bodies of her parents. But in a way, the experiences felt the same: Misa had had someone in her life. She had been loved, she thought. Or at least she had believed she was. She'd had a purpose, a reason to wake up every day. But now, she was alone in the world again. She had her fans, sure, but she wasn’t even allowed to see them anymore. And the one person who was supposed to know her as a person, to care about Misa Amane and not just Misa-Misa, had decided that she wasn’t good enough to be loved, that she wasn’t worth the effort.

(Plus, she had this nagging feeling that she had lost something else, too. Some sense of power, of purpose, of knowing what she was meant to be doing in the world. But, for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what it was.)

Light was probably correct. Misa wasn’t worth the effort for him, and she wasn’t worth it for herself, either. Not worth the effort to get dressed and make herself look nice. Not worth the effort to eat (not that she needed it, anyway; if one good thing came out of having her heart broken, maybe she could at least lose a few pounds). Not worth the effort to get out of her bed and leave the hotel room.

So Misa moved between the bed and the bathroom like a ghost. Meals were brought to her room and she ignored them, for the most part. Sometimes she nibbled on the vegetables. When she showered, she did it with the lights off, so the men wouldn’t see her naked, not as anything more than an infrared image. Sometimes she sank down to the floor of the shower and just sat there as the scalding water poured over her, and only roused herself when it ran cold. When she had to leave the suite, she mostly did so at night, to avoid running into the men of the task force. Sometimes she saw L from a distance, the hunched-over shadow in front of a glowing computer screen. Each time, he turned to stare at her, and she glared back. She hated him, but then, she hated everyone these days.

She spent most of her time thinking of plans to get Light back, to convince him that she was worth it after all. Or else to punish him for leaving her. Most of her plans involved harming herself in some way, since her body was the last weapon she had at her disposal. She’d lie in bed, wondering if she could go on a hunger strike until they convinced Light to talk to her again. But she decided against trying it because she didn’t want to know if he would let her starve. It was better to keep the hope that he cared enough to save her from herself. She didn’t want to risk losing that belief along with everything else that had been taken from her.

Sometimes she thought about harming him instead. This was less satisfying, though because she still felt baffled by that moment in the interrogation room. The way she had just known, somehow, that she had a way to hurt him, if only she could remember what it was. Where did that confidence come from? Had she always felt that way? Misa shook her head. I spent too much time in that cell, being questioned about Kira. Anyone could have gotten confused. Plus the people around me believe I’m the second Kira. I know it’s not true, but sometimes it feels like it should be.

Misa wasn’t sure if it was lucky or unlucky that Light hadn’t been around the headquarters. She wanted to see him so badly, but if he wouldn’t take her back, it would only make the pain worse. Regardless, whether the task force didn’t want to deal with the drama of having Light and Misa in the same building, or if they thought having their prime suspect hanging around would be too risky, they didn’t seem willing to let him join them anymore.

This was a bit confusing to Misa, since she was still a suspect for the second Kira. They had explained to her that the second Kira’s killings had continued, but somehow, she was still under enough suspicion that she wasn’t allowed to leave. She didn’t understand that at all. Why would they keep her while letting Light go free? And how could they still believe that she was the second Kira when it was obviously false?

Without much else to do, these questions were never far from Misa’s mind.

It was probably a week or more before things changed, before Misa spoke to anyone but the old man with kind eyes who brought her food. She didn’t know exactly how long it was because she hadn’t cared enough to count the days. The change came in the form of a knock on her door. When she checked the clock, it was around 8 pm. She hadn’t even noticed the sun had set. She had already rejected her dinner, so it wasn’t the old man.

She considered not getting up. It was probably a member of the task force at the door, and she wanted to punish them for everything that had happened to her in the past two weeks. Wanted to force them to work for it if they wanted her attention. But, to be honest, she was scared they would just give up and leave. That they wouldn’t think she was worth the effort, either. They were the first person to seek her out in the whole time she had been here, and her desire for any measure of attention from another person overrode her impulse to push them away.

That didn’t mean she had to act happy about it, though. She was too tired to be the usual upbeat Misa-Misa, so she just reluctantly approached the door in her sweatpants and baggy shirt, hair all a mess, and slowly opened it, already calling out, “What do you want?”

Misa wasn’t sure what she expected to see, but it wasn’t L with what looked like an entire gallon of ice cream in his hands, shifting awkwardly on one leg while scratching at his ankle with the bare foot of the other. The sight was confusing, but she wanted to see how he would explain it, so she just stood there in the doorway and stared, waiting for him to feel awkward enough to say something.

What came out of L’s mouth did not really clear things up. “You got dumped,” he said bluntly.

She felt stupid for the tears that were starting to well up in her eyes. It wasn’t like she didn’t know that already. “Wow, you’re such a great detective,” she said, voice dull, and moved to slam the door in his face, but L moved quickly and blocked the door.

“Sorry if that was rude,” he said, though his expression didn’t really change. No duh it was rude. What is this guy’s deal? Not that rudeness is that bad compared to everything else he’s done to me. “I don’t really have a lot of experience in this sort of situation. Uh. To be honest, watching you cry on the security cameras all week has been really depressing.”

Wow, he’s really digging himself deeper into this hole. Without realizing it, Misa was starting to perk up just a tiny bit. Not that this interaction was making her dislike L any less, but watching the trainwreck that was his attempt to interact with her was at least better than lying in bed and wondering if Light had already forgotten about her completely. It was a distraction. It made her want to cringe, but at least she was feeling pity for someone other than herself for a change. At least it made her feel a little more powerful. So she raised her eyebrows and said, “I see, my broken heart must be so inconvenient for you. I feel so bad.” She kept her voice flat, but the sight of him reddening made her almost want to smile.

“That’s not what I mean. I just felt like someone should do something about it. So I asked Matsuda what girls do when they get dumped, and he said they eat ice cream with their friends and watch sad movies.”

Misa let her arm rest against the side of the doorframe and looked up at him. With those dark circles under his eyes, he looked as tired as she felt. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but I can’t see any of my friends, since you’re holding me captive in this hotel.”

“I know, I just...” He sighed. “You’re making the mood around here really depressing, so I thought maybe if you had the ice cream and the movies, it might still work.” At this, he produced some DVDs from behind his back, “You could pretend I was your friend, if you wanted. Or Matsuda could be a substitute, if I’m not satisfactory for some reason.”

L just seemed incapable of communicating with her without putting his foot in his mouth. Misa didn’t really feel like doing any of that, and certainly not spending time with him (or Matsuda, either, who was entirely too energetic for her recent mood and would probably stare at her like a puppy dog the whole time). But she didn’t want to be left alone again, either, so she decided to make him try to convince her. It was nice to feel like someone was seeking her attention again, even if it was just because she was being “depressing” in the middle of his serious detective work.

“I can’t eat ice cream. It’ll make me fat,” she said.

“Not if you use your brain,” he immediately retorted, and she was getting ready to yell at him when he added, “Anyway, you need ice cream. Sugar releases endorphins and dopamine, and you seem to be deficient in those right now. And you’ve barely eaten all week. You’re hardly going to get fat from having a single dessert.”

“Sugar releases what now?”

“Uh, I mean that it makes you happy. And you seem like you need that right now.”

“Yes, I can’t imagine why I might seem unhappy,” Misa hissed. He can’t believe that trying to act nice all of a sudden will make me forget the things he did. Though, to be honest, ice cream did sound really good. And Misa didn’t mind having someone trying to tell her that she was allowed to eat sweets, since usually everyone around her said the exact opposite.

But mostly, she just liked someone trying to convince her to spend time with them. She was used to a lifestyle where people begged for her time 24/7. It was nice to feel that way again, just a little bit, like she had the power to reject him and he had to convince her to accept his offer. He had kept her locked up and powerless, so she liked feeling like she had the advantage in some way. And he had tried to be kind to her when she broke down watching Light leave her. So she threw up her hands. “Fine. But if you’re pretending to be my friend, you have to do whatever I say.”

When she let L into her room, he immediately went for the bowls sitting on the counter of the kitchenette, but she stopped him, explaining, “When you’re sad enough, you have to eat the ice cream straight from the container.” Unfortunately, without that task to keep him busy, he immediately seemed quite awkward, like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

She picked out a Western film from the stack of DVDs he produced: Titanic, which she had seen a million times. She liked the romance, and it was a good movie to cry to. It did make her wonder where he had gotten the movies and how he had selected them, as, from the little she knew of L, it didn’t seem like the sort of movie he would like. She decided not to ask him, just because she didn’t want to be treated to some weird, rambling explanation.

When Misa plopped herself down on the bed, grabbing the remote, L just sort of stood there with the tub of ice cream awkwardly cradled in his arms. “Are you going to sit down?” she asked him slowly.

A thought suddenly came to her mind. Was it really appropriate for her to sit on her bed alone with this man she barely knew? Late at night, in a hotel room? The question seemed almost ridiculous, because he seemed so far removed from the human concept of sexuality, but maybe he was some sort of pervert. He even said he had watched her on the cameras. She decided to be very blunt about it, mostly just because she wanted to shock him. “Hey, you’re not trying to seduce me, are you? Are you like a pervert or something?”

The way L’s eyes widened in shock was extremely gratifying, somehow. He looked so totally lost. “You think I’m… a pervert?” Misa had to bite back a grin. “I assure you, my intentions are totally innocent. Plus, your room is under surveillance by the task force, so they would know if anything—I mean, if we—”

“Alright, alright,” Misa said, finally letting herself giggle a little and pressing her hands together. Had she even laughed since the day they arrested her? She couldn’t remember. It wasn’t just his discomfort that she found funny, but also the mental image of the serious police detectives sitting down to watch a video stream of their brilliant boss awkwardly attempting to comfort her like a girl friend would. Maybe she would braid his hair with little bows next, or paint his fingernails. He would probably let her if she insisted it was part of the comforting process. “I’m messing with you. Just sit down and watch this movie with me.”

Gingerly, L raised one leg and stepped onto the bed. The sight of his bare feet on the comforter made Misa wince a bit, but she decided not to say anything as he settled into a crouching position, setting the carton of ice cream and two spoons down in between them. He crouched there, staring at the screen expectantly, until she pressed play.

They didn’t really talk at all during the entire movie. Misa didn’t know what she would talk about with him anyway, and L seemed surprisingly absorbed by the plot. The sexier scenes made her feel a little awkward, but he didn’t seem to notice the tension at all, just looking straight ahead at the TV without changing expression.

Mostly, rather than feeling awkward, the sex scenes just made Misa feel sad. Light hadn’t even wanted her enough to do something like that with her. Even if he hadn’t loved her, she would have done that stuff if he wanted it. She had been happy, when she met Light, that she hadn’t lost her virginity yet (not counting giving a few blowjobs here and there to boys she dated before him). It felt like something special she could give to him, something she had saved for him. Now it just made her feel like a fool. That sort of thing was what men wanted, right? But she hadn’t even been desirable enough to be used for that.

In general, the whole movie just made Misa feel inadequate, realizing that Light had never looked at her or gotten worked up about her the way that Jack looked at Rose. But at least their tragedy took her mind off her own. She was sniffling by the time the credits rolled, but it felt nice to cry over someone else’s heartbreak for once. Maybe L had had the right idea after all when he suggested this movie night.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Of course, he seemed entirely unaffected by the film. He had barely even moved the whole time, other than to take bites of the ice cream, which had disappeared alarmingly quickly. She had only gotten a few bites in, even though it was meant to be for her.

“Hey, L, why do you sit so weird? That doesn’t look very comfortable,” Misa mused, just to have something to talk about now that the film was done.

“On the contrary, Misa, I am very comfortable like this. If I were to sit normally, my thinking power would be reduced by 40%. Also, please make an effort to call me Ryuuzaki. That’s what the task force calls me.”

“Huh.” A spark of mischief lit up Misa’s eyes and she pulled her legs up underneath her, drawing herself into a squatting position on the bed. She let her spoon slip through her fingers until she held it only between her thumb and forefinger, like it was something gross that she didn’t want to touch, and turned to stare at L, widening her eyes comically. “Guess who I am?” she asked in a monotone.

L shot her a look of complete puzzlement, and then, to her surprise, started to laugh. “You know, for a popular idol, you’re actually a really weird girl,” he said.

“Hey!” Misa scolded, but with no real anger behind it. After a moment, though, her expression grew pensive. “I don’t really feel any smarter, sitting like this. But you don’t really need more brain power to watch Titanic, do you? You need it because you still think I’m the second Kira and are trying to figure out how.”

“Yes, well, you’re partially correct. I think you were the second Kira. But right now, it doesn’t seem like you are anymore.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t understand that at all,” Misa said. If I was the second Kira, how could I just stop? “But if you think I killed all those people, you must believe I’m a pretty bad person, right? Shouldn’t you be scared to be around me?”

As if taking the time to choose his words perfectly, L paused for a long moment before he spoke again. “I’m not sure I would consider Misa good or bad. I believe that Misa is a very loyal person, and whether she is good or bad depends on what, or who, she is loyal to. Just from what you said while you were confined, you seemed to be extremely devoted to Light Yagami.”

Misa looked down at the bed, trying to fight the tears welling up in her eyes. “If that’s the case, why did he leave me? If I really was the second Kira like you believe, then I could have helped him. Why would he just abandon me?”

“How should I put this?” L pressed a thumb against his lower lip. “That sort of all-out devotion can be a very powerful thing. Dangerous, even. But if someone’s heart is closed off, they might view it as a weakness or a burden.” He frowned. “Well, not that I have any experience with that sort of thing myself. But that’s what I’ve heard from others, and in my work as a detective, I’ve seen how strongly love can motivate people. I think that Misa’s love for Light was her strength, and that failing to see the value in that love might have been Light’s first big mistake.”

“Ryuuzaki,” Misa whispered, clasping her hands together. “That was surprisingly sweet. I thought badly of you, but you really do understand Misa, don’t you?” On a whim, she leaned over and softly pressed her lips to his cheek, murmuring, “Thank you, Ryuuzaki.”

You would have thought she’d slapped him or something from the way L reacted, staring into space with a dazed expression on his face, flushing red, as he raised a hand to his cheek. “Careful. I could fall for you, you know.” She couldn’t tell from his voice if he was teasing her or being serious.

Misa scrunched up her nose in an exaggerated look of disgust. “No way! You can be Misa’s friend, though. Alright?”

“Huh, now I have two friends…”

Soon after that, L made some excuse and left her room, throwing the empty ice cream carton in the trash on his way out. Misa lay back on her bed, feeling strangely energized. What a strange guy, she thought. But for the first time in over a week, she was smiling.

Chapter Text

Over the next few days, Misa cried less. She still cried, of course, but she also took the time to brush her hair and eat some of her meals and even took the old man up on his offer to pick up some stuff from her apartment. They still wouldn’t let her have a phone or contact her manager, but at least she had her clothes and CDs and stuffed animals.

Sometimes she even left her suite during the daytime. She expected L to shoo her away from the task force while they investigated, since she was a suspect, but he only nodded at her in greeting and said nothing. She didn’t hang around very long, though. Just hearing Light’s name was enough to make her want to break down in tears, or a fit of rage, or both, and since he was still their prime suspect, he came up a lot. So she mostly avoided the task force. Especially because of the way Light’s dad glared at her, like she was somehow personally to blame for the suspicion surrounding his son.

Plus, Misa didn’t follow most of what they were saying anyway. She got the impression that they had increased their surveillance of Light, but otherwise, the details mostly went over her head. She found the whole thing a little boring. They weren’t going to catch Kira, so why bother? He was too smart for them.

Well, that was assuming that Kira wasn’t Light, anyway. Misa wasn’t sure what she hoped was true. Part of her hoped that Light was innocent, because she didn’t want the hero that had avenged her family to be the same guy who had broken her heart. But on the other hand, another part of her hoped that Light was guilty, so that he would be caught and punished. Maybe they’d lock him up in some crazy torture device with a visor covering his eyes. Then he’d understand how she felt.

Plus, if they caught Kira, then her name would finally be clear and she would be allowed to go back to her normal life. She wanted to stay loyal to Kira and say that she wouldn’t mind being locked up here forever if it meant Kira would go free, but on the other hand, she was really feeling kind of cramped in this tower. She missed her friends, and her job, and her fans. And shopping.

Since she had equally strong urges to either inconvenience the task force and get in the way of their investigation or to encourage them to do their best and catch Kira (Light?), she mostly split the difference and ignored them. The whole matter was too confusing and she was still busy sulking about the way her life had gone recently. Quite a lot of her time these days was occupied by sulking, and much of the rest by watching TV.

While she was embarrassed to admit it, after the evening she spent with L, Misa often found herself waiting around after the task force had gone home, wondering if he would come knock on her door again. It was the only thing that had stirred up the drudgery of her days here, even if he wasn’t the best company. She tried to convince herself that she wasn’t disappointed when he left her alone, but even she wasn’t that gullible.

And so, after a few days with no sign of the detective seeking her out, Misa decided to take matters into her own hands and wandered out to the main room after the others had gone home. As usual, L was tapping away on his laptop. She could tell from his body language that he heard her approach (plus, he must have seen her leave her room on the monitors), but just for fun, she crept up behind him and covered his eyes. “Guess who?” she asked.

“Watari,” L responded in a total deadpan, making her giggle.

“You got it!” As she shot finger guns at him, Misa was surprised at how easy it was to revert to her usual upbeat persona. She hadn’t felt like it much recently, but acting cute and cheerful around other people was sort of second-nature by now. “What are you doing?”

“Well, if you actually want to know, I’m looking into the recent rise of pro-Kira groups in Japan.”

“Boring!” Misa announced. Not that she wasn’t interested in Kira, but spending this much time researching things on the internet just seemed so tedious. “You’re taking a break now.”

L finally looked up from his laptop, spinning his chair around to face her. “Am I?”

“Yes!” she insisted, tugging gently at his arm. “You said we’re friends now, didn’t you? Friends hang out and do things together. Don’t you want to cheer me up? I’m stuck in this boring hotel all day and it’s totally your fault.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know much about what friends do. You may need to teach me.” It was hard to tell with him, but L almost seemed like he was trying not to laugh. He widened his eyes as if curious and spoke very sincerely, but she could tell he was teasing her a bit.

That was how they ended up in Misa’s room again, watching some pointless game show, Misa laying on her stomach on her bed while L crouched on the floor with his back resting against the foot of the bed. She was only half paying attention to the show, while the rest of her attention was on his hair, which she was dividing into small sections and working into tiny little braids. She tied each one with a ribbon.

Misa wondered idly if she should be suspicious about how easy it was to convince L to do this sort of thing with her. Was it really just because he felt guilty about holding her here and playing a role in her breakup with Light? He was so intense about this whole investigation, and he still suspected she was involved, so she didn’t know if he would spend so much time following her pointless whims unless he had some ulterior motive.

Well, she could wonder, but Misa wasn’t very good at figuring out what sort of motives someone like L would have. In the meantime, he was the only person who seemed to enjoy her company, and he was letting her walk all over him and not complaining about her treating him like one of her girl friends, so she was happy enough with the situation. She wasn’t the type of person who knew how to be alone for very long, so it was surprisingly easy for her to overlook the reality of the situation and just enjoy having some company.

And he was so sincere about everything, willing to try whatever she suggested in the name of “friendship.” She felt almost guilty for taking advantage of it to tease him by doing stupid things with his hair and flirting a bit just to see his reactions. He just made it so easy.

Like right now, L was totally frozen up and tense under her hands, but he wasn’t complaining, either, and when she asked if he wanted her to stop, he said it was fine. He had a look of contemplation on his face, touching his thumb to his lip, and while he was staring straight at the television screen, she had the feeling he wasn’t paying much attention. Now and then while she braided, Misa would lightly scratch her fingernails over his scalp or the back of his neck, and without fail, each time his whole body would shudder just a little bit.

Misa felt emboldened to be touchy with him in the same way she was with her female friends. She was a tactile person, especially when she felt lonely. She wouldn’t have done something like this with other guys she knew, because they would take it as an invitation to start touching her and trying to get up her skirt or something. But L was so passive, willing to hesitantly accept physical contact but without ever pushing for anything more. She felt safe around him. Even though he was holding her here, he indulged her and let her feel like she was the one in control.

After that night, things started looking up. Misa still got bored and lonely and cried over Light fairly often, but in the evenings, if she told him she wanted his company, L obligingly put his work aside and made time for her. They didn’t do anything weird, mostly just watched movies or TV. She grew a little bolder each time, when she would play with his hair, or lean against his shoulder, and he didn’t push her away. The contact between them was totally platonic in Misa’s mind—the way she saw it was, things were pretty difficult for her these days, and she just needed some form of comfort and human contact to keep her from sinking back into that awful depression she’d experienced at the start of her time in the hotel. She wouldn’t have said that their friendship was a secret, but she didn’t think too hard about the fact that, when she did interact with him in front of the task force, she kept herself at a distance and didn’t say anything about the evenings they spent together.

Misa found out that L had never seen any Studio Ghibli films before, so they started watching those together. One night, watching Howl’s Moving Castle, L actually lay against her headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him, almost like a regular person. She was struck, as stupid as it sounds, by how long his body seemed when he wasn’t keeping himself all curled up. As the movie went on, she found herself moving closer to him until, finally, she dared to lay her head on his chest. When he froze, as usual, she took his arm and pulled it around her waist. She always found it oddly endearing, how much even simple physical contact seemed to affect him, to throw him off-kilter. She could hear his rapid heartbeat under her ear, but he got the idea well enough. He tightened his arm around her, pulling her closer, and turned towards her almost imperceptibly, allowing her to mold her body against him.

It wasn’t any different than cuddling with a girl friend or a stuffed animal or something, Misa told herself. (And he did kind of resemble a panda bear, in a sense.) She just needed to feel less alone for awhile, and despite his icy exterior, L was actually quite warm and soft. He had a pleasant, clean sort of smell to him, and as she breathed it in, she felt her body relax into his warmth. He didn’t question the closeness, thankfully, just pulled her closer, though she noticed his breath hitch when she nuzzled against his chest with a sigh of contentment. Between the familiar movie and L’s calming presence, she found it harder and harder to keep her eyes open, and eventually, she drifted off to sleep.

Gradually, in the haze of sleep, Misa became aware of a tickling sensation against her cheek. She made a noise of complaint and nestled against the warm surface beneath her, trying to stay asleep, but the sensation didn’t go away. Slowly making her way back to consciousness, she realized that the feeling was someone stroking her hair, twirling it around their fingers like they were petting a small animal, and she hummed at the gentle touch. When she reluctantly opened her eyes, though, she was startled to see L staring straight at her face, looming over into her personal space like he had no concept of boundaries at all. (Not that she could talk, having just fallen asleep half on top of him.) Her heart skipped a beat under the strange intensity of his gaze, and she had to look away.

What is he doing? Misa wondered. I should probably get up now. The room was quiet and the movie seemed to be long over. But L hadn’t said anything or made any move to leave, even though he knew she was awake, and she was so comfortable, despite his strange behavior. So she closed her eyes and let him continue, wanting to see where he would take it. He hadn’t shown any interest in initiating physical contact before, only accepted hers without question, and she hadn’t ever been able to tell if he enjoyed the closeness or was just tolerating it for some inexplicable reason.

Misa let her body relax and listened to L’s heart, beating rapidly in his chest like a bird in a cage, and sank into the soothing motion of his chest rising and falling under her cheek. She tried not to flinch or make a face as he continued his exploration: running his fingers along the lines of her nose and jaw, touching his knuckles to her cheek, lifting strands of her hair and letting it fall back over her face. All the while, his other arm was molded around her back, holding her against him. She felt so self-conscious, like a butterfly under a microscope, a scientist staring down at her. Her heart was racing, too; she had never been the center of such unwavering, yet oddly gentle, focus.

When he took her hand, lifting it in his larger one, she let her muscles go slack, and he manipulated it gently, massaging the palm and tracing each line. The feeling of his strong, careful fingers working the muscles of her hand was oddly relaxing, almost like getting a manicure. Even when L lifted her hand to his own face and brushed his lips over the knuckles, she stayed quiet and allowed it. She wondered if his tendency to touch his own mouth constantly had just been somehow re-calibrated to include her hands. As he bent her hand slightly back, she felt the rush of air from his inhale against the inside of her wrist. Was he… was he smelling her?! Misa felt utterly bewildered as he touched his lower lip to the pulse point of her wrist, not like a kiss, but rather just brushing over the skin like he wanted to find out what texture it had.

Reflexively, Misa closed her hand around his thumb, which still rested against her palm, and L started, jerking his head away from her skin like he’d been caught doing something weird. Which, of course, he had, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t known she was awake. She somehow felt embarrassed, even though she hadn’t been the one sniffing someone’s wrist for no apparent reason, so she pulled away from him and stretched with an exaggerated yawn, already feeling a small ache in her chest at the loss of his warmth. “What time is it?” she asked. “Did I sleep through the whole movie?” Of course, she knew the answer to that, but it seemed best to act like none of that had just happened.

“The movie is over,” L said, ignoring her first question. He stared resolutely at the empty screen, like he didn’t want to meet her eyes. “I’ll be heading back to my room now.”

It seemed unbearable, somehow, that he should just run out with such a serious look on his face, that he should leave such an uncomfortable atmosphere behind him. There was something fragile in the air, and she didn’t want to see it break. Misa wanted to do something to reassure him that things were still normal between them—or, maybe, to reassure herself. So she reached out and ruffled his hair. Though his eyes were uncertain when he looked at her, he didn’t brush her hand off or pull away, so she counted it as a victory. “Thanks for hanging out with me, Ryuuzaki,” she said, giving him her brightest, if slightly sleepy, smile.

L didn’t respond, but he nodded, holding her gaze for a moment, before he left the room. Misa rolled over and buried her face in a pillow until her heartbeat returned to normal.

Chapter Text

The next time Misa saw L, she didn’t mention their strange encounter in her room, and neither did he. It was surprisingly easy to ignore, to just write it off as a fluke and continue with their normal friendship. (As normal as a friendship between the two of them could ever be, anyway.) The next time he came to her room for a movie, when she put on My Neighbor Totoro, they each kept a little more distance from each other, but otherwise, things were the same as they had always been. And though Misa could still remember the feeling of comfort as she slept on his chest, or the shivery feelings that passed through her as he traced the lines of her face, she filed it away in the box in her head where she put all the other strange, inexplicable things that L did.

Sometimes Misa wondered why he never tried to interrogate her or pry about the Kira case when they were together. She would have expected him to at least hint at it, but he seemed perfectly content to keep their conversations to things that had nothing to do with the investigation. Maybe he was just worried that she would burst into tears again if he brought Light up—which honestly wasn’t exactly untrue. She still remembered the look of panic on L’s face the last time he saw her crying. Comforting someone didn’t seem like his area of expertise.

This tenuous, unspoken balance between the two of them went on for several weeks before finally being broken. It was a normal workday for the squad. Misa, bored of watching TV and playing with makeup looks in her room, decided to pop her head out and see what they were doing. She liked to wander in and out of their investigation sometimes, just to disrupt things and get a little attention. She had always identified with cats in that way; seeing people focused on something, she could understand the feline urge to jump on top of their papers and keyboards and shout, “Hello, I’m right here! Aware of Misa! Why are you looking at something so boring when you could be paying attention to me?” Distracting people was probably one of her biggest talents.

However, something was different today. When Misa entered the control room that afternoon, the atmosphere became really strange. L jumped up from his chair immediately, standing between Misa and the computer screens, and everyone else spun around to face her, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“Uh… hi,” Misa said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She gave them a small wave and a questioning smile. “I just wanted to see what everyone was up to.”

“This isn’t really a good time, Misa,” L said. “It’s just important task force business. Nothing you’d be interested in.”

He looked so nervous, she just had to tease him a bit. “Really? So you won’t mind if I just take a look, right?” Misa tried to move past him, but he blocked her, actually holding his arm out to stop her, which made her feel pretty angry. She wasn’t used to being denied things for no reason.

“Hey, uh, Misa-Misa,” Matsuda interjected, appearing at her side. “Watari just bought some new magazines for you today. How about we go check those out? The task force is busy with something right now.” He tried to take her elbow to lead her away, which was surprising since he didn’t seem like the type to just touch her without permission, but she impatiently shook herself free from his grip.

In the meantime, Aizawa and Mogi seemed to be circling around in a way that might have been meant to be stealthy, trying to get between Misa and the screens. Mr. Yagami, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to meet her eyes.

“Why are you being so weird, Ryuuzaki?” Misa demanded, ignoring the rest of them. She knew that, whatever weird business they were up to, L was the one behind it. “What are you hiding?” Ducking under his arm before he could stop her, she stared up at the image on the screen.

It was Light. Light and someone else, a girl she recognized from his college. Takada, she thought she remembered. More specifically, it was Light and Takada, kissing. Not just like a peck on the cheek, either. They were kissing passionately, alone in Light’s room. Kissing with more passion than Light had ever kissed her.

“Oh.”

Misa’s hand flew up to her mouth. For a moment, she thought she might actually be sick. Sure, Light had mentioned that there was someone else, though she had never been quite sure if that was just another lie meant to provoke her or not. But either way, hearing it was one thing. Seeing it was another.

“Misa-Misa…” Matsuda said, quietly, and she spun to face him. She felt like all of the men were staring at her, either with pity or with annoyance at the interruption. Misa wasn’t really sure which was worse; she thought she hated them all equally.

A hand settled lightly on her shoulder and she jerked away, breaking the grip. It was L. He was left standing there, his hand still hovering in midair like he wasn’t sure what to do with it. “Don’t touch me,” she said quietly, her voice simmering with rage. That wasn’t satisfying, so she tried again, raising her voice this time. “Don’t touch me!”

Spinning on her heel, Misa fled back down the hallway to her room as the men stared after her. She slammed the door behind her and flung herself face-down on the bed, already in tears.

After a long time, someone knocked on her door. She stalked across the room and flung it open. As she expected, L was standing there, tugging on his own sleeves like he did when he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. When had his mannerisms grown so familiar to her? “Go away,” she said, but he didn’t listen, just slipped through the door and shut it behind him.

“I just wanted to see if I could help.”

At that, Misa laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. “Help? What could you possibly do to help? You know, L, my life started falling apart the day I met you.”

He looked down at her with those blank, tired, dark eyes of his. She almost wanted to hit him, just to see if he would react. His voice was infuriatingly calm as he responded, “Are you sure it was the day you met me, and not the day you met Light Yagami?”

Misa wasn’t sure what she was going to do until the moment she actually did it. Even when she moved forward, reaching for L, she thought she might still hit him, but she didn’t. Instead, her hands went to the collar of his shirt, pulling him down, as she pressed her whole body flush against him and touched her lips to his. He stumbled backwards with a gasp, but luckily there was the door behind him.

The kiss was messy, harsh, and desperate, totally different from the gentle, polite kisses that Light had occasionally allowed her. As soon as his mouth opened to gasp, she slipped her tongue into it, their teeth knocking together a little bit. Her breasts crushed against his chest as she pressed herself forward like she couldn’t get close enough to him, like any amount of distance was unbearable.

After a moment of shocked stillness, L kissed back, slowly and hesitantly moving his tongue against hers as his arms settled around her waist. Misa shocked herself by making a sound, somewhere in between a moan and a whimper, and lifted one hand to tangle in his messy hair. She gently tugged at his lower lip with her teeth and he shivered under her hands. One of her legs slid in between his and she rocked into him. She felt a shocking hardness against her thigh for just a second before L broke the kiss, grabbing her by both shoulders and pushing her gently but firmly backwards.

He looked so disheveled and dazed, his hair all messed up and his skin flushed vaguely pink. She wanted to mess him up even more, so she tried to move forward again without thinking, but he held her firmly in place. “Misa. Misa, stop,” he said.

“Why?” she asked. “You said you wanted to help. And you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that, L. I felt it.”

L shook his head. “It doesn’t matter how my body responded. I know you were only doing that to get back at Light. We shouldn’t be doing that kind of thing together at all, given the investigation, but especially not if it’s just because of Light. Oh, and please remember to call me Ryuuzaki.”

Misa wanted to argue with him, but the problem was that he was right. Well, not about whether they should or shouldn’t make out; she didn’t care about that. But he was right about why she was doing it. She felt so powerless here. She couldn’t hurt Light or Takada in any way that mattered. She couldn’t even go to Light’s house and scream at them, since she was confined to the hotel. This was the only thing that made her feel like she could get revenge on Light. L was his rival; they obviously aggravated each other in many ways, even if they respected each other in others. Even if Light didn’t care about her, his pride might still be wounded if his rival got to take his ex-girlfriend’s virginity.

It was just like when she thought of going on a hunger strike or something stupid like that: lashing out at Light using her body as collateral. Misa didn’t really care one way or another what happened to her, whether she was hurting herself or sleeping with a weird guy like L. Though the latter option, it turned out, might actually be pretty pleasant. That had been one hell of a kiss.

“Does it really matter?” she finally asked. “You’re in charge here, Ryuuzaki. You can do what you want. And most men would kill to have a girl like Misa offering herself up like this. You can do whatever you want with me; I don’t mind. Who cares why I’m doing it?”

L released her once it seemed like she wasn’t going to throw herself at him again, hands falling to his sides. He stared down at the floor. “I care. I don’t want it to be for a reason like that. It’s important to me, even if it’s not to you.”

Misa huffed. “What, was that your first kiss or something?”

His silence spoke more than enough. Raising one hand, L stroked the side of her head, smoothing out her hair. “Goodnight, Misa,” he said, voice firm, and then he was gone.

Luckily, the task force had already gone home for the day, so as long as he avoided Watari, there was no one to witness L making a beeline from Misa’s hotel room to his own suite. He slipped through the door and slammed it behind him, heart pounding for some reason. He was certain that if he ran into Watari, even if his disheveled appearance and obvious erection didn’t give it away, the old man would just look him in the eyes and somehow know what he had been doing. In some ways, he hadn’t outgrown that mindset from back at Wammy’s House, where it was rumored among the students that Watari had some innate gift to know when someone was doing something they shouldn’t be. It was ridiculous for L to feel that way, given that he was an adult, but he couldn’t quite shake it off.

Taking a deep breath, L leaned back against his closed door, the position unfortunately provoking a sense memory of his encounter with Misa a few minutes before. He laughed slightly at the absurdity of it. When I decided to try to win Misa’s loyalty, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

Maybe he should have taken the opportunity anyway, but it seemed to have too high a chance of backfiring. Misa had made it abundantly clear in the time that he’d known her that she didn’t have any attraction to him at all. Before tonight, he would have said that she didn’t even see him as a man, that he was just some sort of L-shaped teddy bear that she cuddled when she needed comfort. He had accepted that position in her life, had never even imagined that he could be anything more. That proposition—You can do whatever you want with me—had probably been a momentary lapse in judgment created by her anger over Light and Takada’s relationship. If he let anything happen between them, he could easily imagine Misa regretting it afterward and distancing herself from him. She was already known to be capricious and volatile, and to jump into things without thinking.

Besides that, using sex as a tool in detective work could be tricky and prone to cause problems even for someone experienced. If Light hadn’t broken up with Misa and had continued “helping” with the investigation, L might have considered asking him to use an intimate relationship with her to try to get information out of her, but L didn’t think he was as suited to that kind of mission as Light would be. Light, for all of his friendly exterior, seemed to have a remarkably hardened heart. He would have to, if he was Kira.

L might have believed himself to be the same as Light in the past—cold, intellectual, self-contained—but his recent relationship with Misa had forced him to reconsider that self-image. He seemed to find himself doing the most irrational things around her. Part of being a good detective meant being aware of one’s limitations, and L didn’t feel confident that he could become sexually involved with Misa while still remaining entirely objective.

No, better to let this momentary insanity pass and continue his efforts to befriend Misa. Of course, she was extremely beautiful, a fact that had become increasingly difficult to ignore given her propensity for draping herself all over him like a cat. There was a part of L that wanted to take this opportunity, since intimate relationships had never really been an option for him and he didn’t know if he would ever be given the chance again, but that part of his brain could be overruled through logic. He had more important priorities right now, and years of practice at ignoring inconvenient physical desires.

L just had to keep his physical reactions to Misa under control until she lost interest. Which shouldn’t take too long, given that there was no way she was actually attracted to him. This couldn’t be anything more than a whim on her part, something born out of boredom or loneliness or jealousy. Though it would be a lot easier, he thought, if she wasn’t so determined to touch him all the time.

Even as all of this was going through L’s mind, another part of him couldn’t stop replaying the encounter. Leaning against his door in an unconscious imitation of the position he had ended up in made it too easy to slip back into that moment. The memory of her tongue in his mouth, the small noises she’d made, the feeling of the swells of her breasts pressing against his chest, it all served to make him even harder, his cock twitching in his pants. This wasn’t the sort of physical reaction that would just go away on its own.

With a sigh, L unzipped his pants and slipped one hand inside, stroking himself as he leaned back against the door. With the memory of Misa’s touch still lingering on his skin, it took an embarrassingly short amount of time before he came all over his hand, biting down on the palm of the other to avoid crying out.

L tipped his head back against the cold wood of the door, panting. This is going to be a problem.

Chapter Text

You wouldn’t think that getting rejected would cheer Misa up so much, but here she was.

During her admittedly brief time with Light, she had never had the advantage. Every bit of affection had to be negotiated for, and he barely seemed to notice or care whether she was there at all. She knew how to get attention from men, but none of her usual tricks worked on Light. In comparison, L wanted her. That was obvious now. He had turned her down, but he had done so for moral and emotional reasons. It wasn’t that her presence left him unmoved, it was just that he couldn’t allow himself to take what he wanted.

Misa had been adrift recently, but she was always at her best when she had a goal, something to work for. And this was the type of game that she knew how to play. She finally felt like she was doing something again. She had found a purpose, if only a temporary one. Unfortunately for L, Misa had found somewhere to funnel her extreme amount of energy and dedication: trying to make the detective as sexually frustrated as humanly possible.

Being an idol, Misa had plenty of experience being chased by guys. But one reason she fell for Light was that she liked to be the one doing the chasing, and now L had managed to inadvertently activate that instinct in her. When it came to chasing men, Misa had no limits and no pride. She would wear him down if she had to parade herself through the hallways naked. L had no idea what was about to hit him.

The day after their kiss, L mostly avoided her, but when she passed him in the hallway, he did stop to reassure her that he was the only one who had access to the footage from her room unless he chose to ask Watari to watch. This was obviously meant to save her the embarrassment of wondering whether the others, like Mr. Yagami, had seen their encounter. However, L had accidentally given her some ideas.

Misa’s first step was to stop turning the lights off when she changed clothes or took a shower. By itself, that could probably be explained away as her becoming more comfortable in the hotel room and less self-conscious about the constant surveillance. However, what was harder to excuse was the way she went out of her way to put on a show.

Late at night, when everyone else had gone home and she knew that L was probably working and monitoring the video feed alone, she would “change into her pajamas.” Except, compared to her previous habits, this involved a lot more slow-motion stripping and lying topless on her bed, running her hands over herself in full view of the cameras. And in the shower, she spent an unusual amount of time rubbing soap on her breasts and dramatically tossing her head back to rinse her hair, though she wasn’t sure if the cameras were too fogged up for any of it to be visible.

Misa wasn’t usually so shameless about nudity, but it was easy enough to let herself pretend that she was alone. She couldn’t see the cameras, or L’s reaction, so it felt like she was just playing around and fantasizing that someone was watching her. She didn’t go so far as to touch herself down there or anything, but imagining L all alone in that dark room, staring at her video feed, was enough to have her squirming and pressing her thighs together. She wished she could stick a camera in his room and see his reaction to her nightly shows. She supposed it wasn’t that surprising, given her occupation, that she had a bit of an exhibitionist streak.

Honestly, part of this was probably because of her job. Misa had years of experience being on display. She knew exactly how to move, exactly how to frame her face and her body for maximum effect. And now she was held in captivity, out of sight of the world, and what had been thousands of eyes on her had been replaced by L’s alone. Putting on a show was familiar. It was fun. And if he wouldn’t allow her to perform for anyone else, then he shouldn’t be surprised when he found himself targeted by the full force of Misa’s charms.

Okay, so maybe this wasn’t just about getting revenge on Light. That was why she had kissed L, sure. But the longer this went on, the more it became about the thrill of the chase, dangling the forbidden in front of L’s face and seeing how long he could control himself. It wasn’t her fault that he was exceptionally fun to tease, and actually kind of sexy in a weird, gangly, sleep-deprived sort of way. His nervousness only made her feel bolder in response. And the more effort she put into tempting him, the less time she spent feeling sorry for herself or thinking about Light.

In the evenings, she often came out to “see what he was working on,” a process that involved a lot of leaning over him and pressing her breasts against his arm as she looked over his shoulder. L never told her to leave, but he also avoided showing any reactions, so she decided to up her game a little.

One evening, hanging out in the chair next to L and spinning herself in lazy circles while he worked, she noticed he had a lollipop hanging from his mouth and was sucking at it absentmindedly.

“Hey, can I have one of those?” she asked.

“Huh?” L raised his head in confusion and she gestured to the sweet. “Oh, sure, help yourself.” He nodded to the wicker basket on the desk in front of the row of computer monitors.

But instead, Misa rolled her chair closer to his and plucked the lollipop right out of his mouth. She tried not to laugh at his baffled expression as she stuck her tongue out to lick it tentatively, as if to check whether she liked the taste. Of course, she must look absolutely ridiculous and obvious, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t work. She had learned from her photoshoots that subtlety wasn’t always what people wanted. She held eye contact with L as she stuck the lollipop into her mouth and gave it a good suck.

“Thanks for the candy!” she said, jumping up from the chair and trying not to laugh. She felt his eyes follow her as she skipped out of the room.

For the first few nights after their kiss, L made excuses about why he couldn’t come to her room, saying that there was a lot of work to do on the Kira case. But eventually, he reverted to old habits and joined her for a movie one evening.

Misa chose her outfit with care, picking a sheer but casual black dress. This dress was always a pain to wear in public because the straps had a habit of slipping free of her shoulders, forcing her to wear a shirt underneath if she wanted to preserve some modesty. Tonight, of course, she not only went without an undershirt but forwent wearing a bra as well.

L sat in his normal crouching position on her bed, which wasn’t really optimal for her game of seeing how much physical contact he would allow her. Instead, Misa settled back against the headboard, letting L keep a bit of distance from her. She didn’t want to make him regret joining her, after all, or push him too far. If he stopped watching movies with her, she would be pretty lonely.

But the whole time, she was barely able to keep her attention on the movie. Misa was hyperaware of his every move, very unlike the easy, casual comfort that had existed between them before. She couldn’t tell if he felt it too or was totally immune. Either way, she could feel her skin burning and her heart pounding. He was right there, and all he had to do was reach out and touch her, but he wouldn’t. Mimicking him, she held her hand to her face as they watched, absently running her finger over her lower lip. When she felt brave, she snuck glances at him, but L seemed perfectly content to keep his eyes on the movie, even when she shifted her bare legs around on the bed and let the hem of her dress ride up.

Misa was so distracted during the whole movie that it was over before she realized it. As the credits rolled, she felt the tension between them thicken—though, like so many things with L, she couldn’t tell if it was just her imagination. Trying to look natural, she shrugged her shoulder a bit, just enough to cause the strap to fall, exposing her whole shoulder and the top of her chest. When she turned to face him, lit only by the blue light of the screen, she was surprised to find his eyes already on her.

Misa hit him with one of the looks that she reserved for her most suggestive photo shoots (not that any of her shoots got that raunchy; she wasn’t that kind of model): big doe eyes that she’d practiced in the mirror countless times, lips slightly parted, head tilted to expose the whole length of her neck and collarbone. And for a moment, she thought it was working. L’s eyes flickered down to her lips, her neck, her bare shoulder, and she saw him inhale unsteadily, leaning in.

“Ryuuzaki…” she murmured, closing her eyes when she felt his hand brush her skin. But he was only taking hold of her dress strap, which he pulled back up onto her shoulder and straightened out. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and blinked at him in confusion.

“You looked cold,” he said, and without another word of explanation, he stood from the bed and walked out of her room.

“Damn!” Misa whined, flopping onto her back. Was she just making a fool of herself in front of him? This whole thing wasn’t exactly dignified. But she had really thought, for a second, that it was working. She hadn’t imagined that expression on his face or the way his gaze lingered on her lips. Right? It was so hard to figure him out.

Still, just the way he had looked at her was enough to encourage her to continue this game. It felt worth it every time she managed to provoke a reaction from him. L was so self-contained and cerebral. She wanted to smash through his walls, to prove that he was only human. That he was a body, not just a brain. That there were some things he couldn’t think his way out of. Misa wanted, more than anything, to be needed, and she was sure that L had a whole lot of need buried just under the surface, if she could just get to it. In her experience, the more a person repressed their needs, the stronger they became.

Misa waited a few minutes, wanting to be sure he was back at his computer. Turning on her small bedside lamp, she impatiently pushed her dress down until it was pooled around her ankles, leaving her lying on the bed in just her panties. She was all worked up, more than she would care to admit. Enough to quiet the part of her that still had some self-consciousness or sense of modesty. She wanted him to know the state he had left her in, to see what he could have if he just gave in. Instead of brushing her hands over her skin, like she usually did when showing off for him, she groped her own breasts roughly, pinching the nipples in her hands.

Sliding a few fingers into her mouth and coating them in her saliva, Misa slipped her hand under the waistband of her panties. Even though she got a thrill out of showing off for the cameras, she felt almost shy, having never gone this far with it before. She rolled over onto her stomach to feel a little less exposed, burying her face in her pillow and grinding down on her own hand. She came just like that, riding her hand, the letter “L” on her lips.

Of course, as soon as Misa finished, she was mortified. It had seemed like a good idea when she was turned on, but once her head was clear, she couldn’t believe she had done something like that. Her little “performance” had backfired a bit: she had intended to embarrass L, but instead, she was the one avoiding his eyes in the hallways. It took her days to regain her confidence around him, which meant that, even if she had managed to provoke a reaction from him, she wasn’t able to see it.

But eventually, she was able to push the memory out of her mind and stubbornly continue with her plan. In the boxes that Watari had gathered from her apartment, she had her collection of magazines in which she had been featured, which she thought might come in handy. She wasn’t sure if L had really meant what he said about her the first time they met: “Light, you’re a lucky guy. I have been a huge fan of Misa’s ever since the August issue of Eighteen.” Did he really like her modeling work, or was that just another way to put her off guard before arresting her? Though she felt dumb for caring, she really hoped he had meant it.

So, the next time that Misa went out to bother L while he tried to work alone, she brought a big stack of magazines with her and let them drop onto the desk in front of him with a heavy thump. L slowly rotated his chair towards her, looking up at her questioningly.

“I was wondering if you could help me with something,” Misa began, giving him what she hoped was an innocent smile. He raised his eyebrows, and she got the feeling that he didn’t quite buy it. “I, uh, wanted to look through some of my old photoshoots and decide what types of shoots I should do once you’re done investigating me or whatever. And since you said you were a fan of Misa-Misa…” She trailed off, shifting back and forth.

L frowned as if deep in thought, looking at the stack of magazines like they were a puzzle. Finally, he shrugged. “Sure, I’ll help.”

Misa squealed—maybe a bit of an overreaction, but she was used to exaggerating her gratitude for fans. “Let’s go sit on the couch!” she announced, picking up the magazines again and grabbing his arm, and though L didn’t seem to expect that, he unfolded himself and let her pull him along.

Of course, she had selected the magazines for maximum effect. They all featured her most sultry photos: bikini shoots, lace stockings, close-ups of her full lips in an advertisement for strawberry lip gloss. As she paged through them, holding each magazine up for L to inspect, he kept his comments neutral, but his eyes, his eyes were glued to the photos in a way that looked positively perverted. And when they got to the lip gloss advertisement, he actually licked his lips. She wondered, idly, when she had gone from seeing his mannerisms as creepy and perverted to actually kind of hot. He lacked the social adeptness to hide his reaction to stuff like this, so she knew that he was being genuine. Yet another way in which he differed from Light.

The whole time, of course, Misa made sure to sit just a little too close, crossing one leg over the other to display the bare skin of her thighs. When she got to one of her favorite bikini shoots, she paused, leaning towards L. “Do you think this one turned out okay? I’m not sure if I like it…” she said. Which was, of course, a lie: she knew she looked incredible. But it never hurt to hear someone else say it. As she leaned in, she made sure to tilt her body just enough to display her cleavage. “I think it makes me look kind of flat-chested,” she added, sighing theatrically.

Luckily, L seemed too focused on the sight in front of him to call her out on her obvious fishing for compliments. She watched as he took in the rather risqué photos, and when his eyes darted from the magazine to her cleavage and back, she felt a warm glow of satisfaction in her chest. He raised a thumb to his lips, which were now slightly parted. “I would not say that at all,” he said slowly. “The cut of the swimsuit is very flattering.” She had to admire his commitment to giving her constructive feedback, like he really thought she was seeking advice rather than looking for an excuse to show him half-naked photos of herself.

“I’m so glad!” Misa cheered, clasping her hands together in a way that only served to push her cleavage forward, and before she could chicken out, she leaned in and planted a kiss on L’s cheek, savoring his sharp intake of breath. She rested one hand on his knee for balance, and when she pulled away, she left her hand where it was. “You know, they let me keep that swimsuit. It’s in my room here, if you’d like to see it in person.”

L frowned. “I don’t see the point in that. There’s no swimming pool in this hotel.” Is he actually this dense, or is he messing with me?

“Don’t be silly,” Misa insisted. “I’m not planning to swim. I just want to know your impression of it, since you seem to know what you’re talking about.” L continued to look skeptical, but when she jumped off the couch, pulling him in the direction of her room, he followed her.

Misa made him turn his back on her while she changed, even though she was sure he had seen plenty of her on the cameras. She made a big deal out of telling him that he wasn’t allowed to peek. Of course, that was meant to be reverse psychology, so when he really didn’t peek, facing the wall like a real gentleman, she was pretty disappointed. Everyone knows that “don’t peek” means “you should totally peek,” she thought, pouting. He’s so dumb. But she quickly brightened up again. “Okay, you can turn around now!”

When L turned to face her, he didn’t even bother to try to hide the slow sweep of his eyes up and down her body. The bikini was flimsy and black, held together by just a few brave strings. She had to stop herself from preening under his heavy gaze. After so long in the public eye, she thrived off being seen, and while his staring had once unsettled her, she had recently found herself craving it.

“It is as I expected,” L said. The wording was typical for him, but his voice sounded rougher than usual, more unsteady. “The cut is quite flattering.”

“I’m glad Ryuuzaki likes it!” Misa announced, beaming at him. She turned around, letting him see the back, and ran one finger under the hem right where it hugged her butt, smoothing out the fabric. “It’s not too revealing?”

“By what standards? It’s a bikini, so isn’t that the point?” he mused. Facing away from him, she was free to roll her eyes.

“If you can’t tell, let me give you a closer look.” Misa turned and approached L, who made a valiant effort to drag his eyes back up to her face. She came to a stop right in front of him, watching him as he watched her. “Well?”

L swallowed, and she watched his Adam’s apple bob. They were so close together, she felt like her whole body was humming with electricity. “It is quite revealing,” he admitted, voice low. “I’m concerned about its structural integrity as well. I don’t know if you could swim in it; the straps look like they could easily come undone.” His words were still carefully professional, but his voice. She realized with surprise that she had goosebumps, though that could just be from the cool air of the hotel on her exposed skin.

“Hmm.” Misa pretended to consider this, biting down softly on her lower lip. “You may be right. One wrong move, just a little tug,” she said as she hooked one finger under the strap that wrapped around her neck, plucking at it as if to demonstrate, “and the whole thing might just fall right off in front of everyone! It would be so embarrassing. Can you imagine that?” The way L’s eyes darkened suggested that he could.

“Yes, we wouldn’t want that,” he murmured, but she got the feeling that he was barely paying attention to the words coming out of his mouth. She took another step forward, until her breasts brushed against the front of his t-shirt, and stared up into his face. She glanced at his lips. They were so close. He only needed to lean in. But she wasn’t going to initiate it this time; if he wanted her, he had to close the distance himself.

Apparently that was the final straw. “Misa,” he said, looking almost pained. “We can’t. You know that we can’t.” Even as he spoke, though, his hand went to her hip, playing with the bow that held her bikini together. As he twirled the strings over his fingers, he occasionally brushed the outside of her bare thigh. Misa wasn’t even sure what she wanted anymore, she just knew that she wanted.

“You can,” she said, voice so soft it was almost a breath of air, and L’s eyes closed for a moment. His hand rested fully on her hip now, but he didn’t pull her any closer, just tightened his grip slightly. He leaned in, and she closed her eyes, expecting him to kiss her, but instead, he tilted his head forward and pressed his forehead to hers. Misa wasn’t sure what to make of that, but she stayed still for him. They were breathing the same air now, and she could feel the tension in his hand, as if he was fighting the urge to pull her closer. She could feel him take a few deep breaths, exhaling slowly.

After a moment, L pulled away, removing his hand from her hip and taking a step backwards. Her skin felt cold without his touch. “I shouldn’t have come here,” he said, more to himself than to her. “I need to get back to work.”

Misa pouted, but she didn’t want to become too pushy and cross a line, so she nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak. He headed for the door. Just before he left the room, though, L turned back towards her. “May I keep those magazines?” he asked, and she grinned.

“They’re yours,” Misa said, holding his gaze. He smiled back, just a little, still looking troubled, and then he was gone.

Chapter Text

The incident that finally broke L’s crumbling self-control was an impressive bit of inspiration on Misa’s part, she thought. Not wanting Watari to handle her underwear, she insisted on doing her own washing in the laundry room of their hotel. In a particular stroke of luck, a few days after that night, she took her basket down only to find L’s laundry sitting in the dryer, waiting for Watari to return and collect it. She knew it was L’s because the load consisted entirely of long sleeved white shirts, baggy jeans, and plain boxers. Not even any socks or pajamas. He seemed to own nothing but that one particular outfit a dozen times over, which answered the question of whether he was actually changing his clothes or not.

After Misa had thrown her own laundry into the washer and pressed the button to start it, she went to leave the room, but at the last moment, she paused, glancing back at the dryer.

As soon as the idea came into her mind, Misa’s heart was racing. She was sure Watari would come in at any second. He always had a way of popping up at the most embarrassing times. To give herself a bit of extra warning, she shut the door, even though it didn’t lock or anything. She reached up her skirt and slid her panties off, stepping out of them delicately but quickly, before she could think about it too much and chicken out. With one more suspicious glance around the room, she pulled one of L’s outfits out of the dryer, minus the boxers: just a white shirt and a pair of jeans. They were warm, and she had to fight the urge to hold them to her chest. She quickly shoved her panties into the front pocket of the jeans, hoping Watari only checked the pockets before washing them and not afterward, and tossed the pants back into the dryer with the rest of the clothes.

The shirt, she rolled up and tucked under her arm before opening the door again and leaving the room. She did her best not to look conspicuous as she made her way back to her suite. It wasn’t that much different than playing a practical joke on one of her friends, she figured, except sexier. When she reached the safety of her room, she had to lean against the door and laugh. She had never done something so ridiculous to get a guy’s attention, and for Misa, that was saying a lot. She wasn’t sure what it was about L that made her feel so bold. Well, if he thinks I’m actually a serial killer, he can’t be too shocked if I’m a bit more slutty than my good-girl, pop idol image, she reasoned.

And, honestly, being so over-the-top sexual was fun. There were no model friends in this building to judge her or spread rumors. The task force was occupied by more important things than her social life. She was stuck here with nothing else to do, in an environment totally removed from the rest of her life, so she barely felt like Misa Amane at all. She didn’t have to be good anymore. L didn’t seem like he would look down on her for it. If anything, his reactions only egged her on.

It probably would have taken L longer to notice the panties, since he had so many pairs of the same jeans, if it weren’t for the fact that Misa started hanging out in her room wearing nothing but his stolen shirt, which hung long enough on her to be a dress. It was honestly so cozy; her small frame was completely swallowed by it, and the sleeves hung down past her hands. The oversized shirt look was very fashionable right now. Her only complaint was that it had been freshly washed, so it didn’t smell like him.

Showing her prize off like that was a bold move on her part, but she hoped that he would realize it was his shirt, not just a random white shirt, and check to see if she had messed with his laundry in any other ways. Let’s see how good his detective skills really are. As it was, it took only a few more days, during which she had to apply all of her willpower not to smirk like the cat who got the cream every time she saw him, before he appeared at her door, a pair of lace panties dangling from his trademark two-finger grip.

“Can I help you, Ryuuzaki?” Misa asked after leading him inside. She leaned against the wall, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the sight of him.

“Do you want to explain what these are?”

Misa couldn’t tell from his expression whether he was annoyed or amused, or maybe both. She widened her eyes at him, putting on her best sincere face, and said, “Well, I’m no expert, but they look like panties to me. You’re a detective, Ryuuzaki. Can’t you figure that out on your own?”

At that, his expression was much easier to read, as he shut his eyes for a second and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. Definitely annoyed. “And why are you wearing my shirt?”

“Fairness.” Misa put as much conviction into the word as she could. “It was a trade. I left you a present, so I took something in return.” The way his mouth fell open at her audacity was, honestly, extremely gratifying, so she decided to push just a little farther. “Hey, Ryuuzaki, want to know what I’m wearing under your shirt?” she asked, leaning forward with her hand cupped to her mouth like she was confiding an important secret. When he didn’t say anything, she continued anyway. “Nothing at all. Not even panties. Isn’t that lewd?”

Before L could stop himself, she saw his eyes dart down to where the bottom of the shirt hung, more than halfway up her thighs. He sighed. “Misa, you’re an incredibly vexing person. Sometimes I can’t believe that someone like you exists.”

Misa didn’t know what ‘vexing’ meant, so she decided to take it as a compliment and grinned at him, flashing a peace sign. “Thank you.”

Her pulse sped up as he approached her, but he stopped a few feet away, resting one hand on her shoulder. He kept his tone of voice light, like he didn’t really mean what he said, but his usually distant eyes looked troubled. “You know, Misa, it’s cruel to play with someone’s feelings like this.”

She swallowed, suddenly feeling much more serious. She tested his grip, taking a step towards him, and he didn’t stop her. Teasing L was fun, but she didn’t want to blow this and chase him away. He was her only friend here. “I’m not playing with you. I really meant what I said. You can do anything you want with me if you just ask. Why won’t you ask?”

L sucked in a shaky breath, letting his hand fall to his side. “I don’t understand what you want from me.”

What I want? Misa paused, humming thoughtfully. “Have you ever had a blowjob, Ryuuzaki?” Not that she expected him to say yes, but she felt the urge to confirm it anyway, even though speaking so crudely was unusual for her. She wanted to shock him.

L looked startled, reddening a bit. “No,” he admitted, voice oddly stiff. “No one has touched my penis other than myself.”

Misa found it weirdly cute, the way he was all serious and clinical about this. “Then that’s what I want. Would you like me to suck it?” As if unable to stop himself, his eyes flickered down to her lips, and she parted them just slightly, letting the tip of her tongue dart out to wet her bottom lip. He looked away quickly, but she felt certain that she had planted some images in that strange head of his, even if he tried to hide it.

“Even if you mean it, though I don’t understand why you would, sex complicates things. This situation is complicated enough already,” he insisted. But his voice seemed less firm than it had been a moment ago.

Misa walked forward until they were only a few inches apart, and L didn’t back up or try to stop her, just stared down at her. “It doesn’t have to,” she insisted. “You can just use me, if that makes it easier. It doesn’t have to be any different from touching yourself.”

“That’s not what I—” L cut himself off, frowning. “Why would you suggest something like that?”

Her cheeks burning, Misa had to look away from his eyes. She hated the thought that he might be judging her. “Maybe I just want to, okay? If you don’t want me, that’s fine. But don’t try to tell me I don’t know what I want.”

For a long moment, L just looked up at the ceiling, lost in thought. Just when Misa started to assume she was going to be rejected again, he let out a breath and nodded. “Alright.”

What, really? Misa had spent so much time chasing L, she had mostly forgotten about the original motivation (pissing Light off) or any thought of what she would do when she actually caught him. Moving quickly, in case he changed his mind again, she planted a chaste kiss on his lips and then dropped down to her knees in front of him. She leaned in, looking at where a bulge was already forming in his jeans, and nuzzled her cheek against the rough denim and the firm length underneath.

She heard L gasp above her, and when she pulled back, he was staring down at her in shock. Just as she started to feel self-conscious, though, he quickly undid his pants with shaking fingers and pushed both his pants and underwear down in one movement. She realized, with a small flash of amusement, that they were now wearing matching outfits.

L’s cock bobbed obscenely in front of her face, already mostly hard, and Misa had to suppress a noise. It was a good size, nothing super intimidating or anything (not that she had that many to compare it to), but more importantly, it was L’s, and it was hard for her. She had done this to him. He wasn’t made of ice after all; he wanted this just as much as she did.

Because she wanted to see his expression, and because she had heard that guys liked that sort of thing, Misa tilted her head back and looked up at him, making eye contact as she gently licked the head of his cock. The way he looked down at her, obviously nervous but somehow awed at the same time, made her melt. She was suddenly left dizzy by the strength of her desire to please him. She wanted to bring L to pieces with her mouth more than she had ever wanted anything, just to see more of that unguarded, almost worshipful, expression on his face.

There was a hint of possessiveness to her feelings as well: no one else had ever seen this L before. She was the one who brought this out of him, so it was just for her. Indulging herself, she leaned forward and pressed her mouth against the V of his hip, sucking hard enough to bruise, and fiercely thought to herself, Mine. He practically whined, trying to turn, to get her mouth back to other parts of his anatomy, and she let him.

Holding him at the base with one hand, Misa took his cock in her mouth fully now, bobbing her head and trying to put all of her energy and focus into making him understand how badly she wanted to do this for him. L was amazingly responsive, moaning and twitching and dripping precum the second her lips closed around him.

“Ah, Misa!” he gasped, hips jerking forwards instinctively, and though it surprised her and made her choke a little, it also filled Misa with pride. Quickly, though, he stopped, realizing what he had done. “Sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Misa pulled back, missing the weight of him on her tongue the second it was gone, and said, “You don’t have to hold back, L. I want this. I’m not as delicate as I look.” Before he could speak again, she had her lips back around his cock, and whatever he was going to say quickly turned into a moan.

Tentatively, he took her pigtails in his hands and tugged lightly, staring down at her as if he still expected her to complain. Misa only moaned around him encouragingly and let herself be pulled by the hair, removing her hands so he could get deeper, mouth sliding down his length to take him down to the base, swallowing to ease some of the discomfort.

The room was silent. She could easily hear his shuddering breath. He whispered, “Christ, Misa,” and she felt warmth spread throughout her whole body at the praise. She didn’t think L was going to last very long at all, but she didn’t mind. She wasn’t confident she could keep this up for too long, so faster was better.

She let L take control, wrapping both arms around his thighs to pull him forward, and to let him know that she welcomed the rough treatment, as he held her head in both hands, pulling her mouth harshly onto him with each insistent thrust of his hips. He stepped out of his jeans and underwear so he could stand with his legs spread wider, getting a better angle to thrust into her throat. It was a little uncomfortable, and she had to fight her gag reflex to take him this deep, but every noise she drew out of him made her hum around his cock in pleasure. His movements quickly became jerky, almost frantic, and she tried her best to relax for him, letting him hump her mouth. His posture was even worse than usual, curled halfway over her as his hips bucked. The hem of his t-shirt brushed against her forehead.

When Misa gagged around him, she expected him to stop and apologize again, but he only moaned loudly and moved one hand to cup the back of her head, holding her in place on his cock, so she forced herself to relax again, tightening her grip on his legs. She had been standing between him and the wall, and as he got closer to climax, he kept mindlessly pushing her backwards until her back was against it. His hips insistently pressed her head into the wall, crowding her and limiting her ability to maneuver. It was a ridiculous, awkward position, but somehow, she liked it. It was filthy in some sort of delicious way that made her feel warm all over. He took up her whole field of view, like her whole world narrowed to just his body hemming her in, his cock down her throat. She felt, as crude as it sounded in words, like she was just a warm hole for L to stick his cock in, with no purpose other than to get him off. It made her feel used. Misa wanted to be useful. And even as she was wondering if there was something wrong with her, for her to get so turned on by being degraded in this way, her body was reacting, moaning around him and clutching his legs for support.

Misa looked up at L’s face from her position at his feet. He had one forearm braced against the wall and was resting his forehead against it to support himself, his whole face red, hand clenched into a fist. With his other hand, he tugged at her hair in time with his harsh thrusts into her mouth. His breath came out in ragged pants. Even as her eyes watered, she tried, looking up at him, to put into her eyes everything that she couldn’t say with her mouth full: her desire to please him, to be good for him, to give him something that no one else could. Her willingness to take anything he wanted to give her, as long as he needed her.

Just then, he opened his eyes a little and met her gaze, and the sight of her staring up at him with his cock in her mouth and such an intense expression was enough to push him over the edge. “Fuck, fuck, Misa, I’m—”

That was all the warning she got before L’s hips snapped forward, pressing her into the wall hard, and she hollowed her cheeks around him, letting her eyes flutter closed. He came so hard that she felt like he would never stop, pumping his cum into her throat with a sharp cry. She didn’t want him to stop, wanted him to fill her throat until it spilled out of her mouth, wanted to drown in the evidence of his desire for her. He wasn’t gentle at all, now—with each throb and spurt of his cock, he ground his crotch against her face insistently, never pulling out, only trying to somehow get deeper each time. Her lips hurt and her vision was swimming from lack of air, but her pussy throbbed between her legs, and she wasn’t sure if she had ever been so turned on. She kept on sucking him through it, swallowing it all, clutching his legs so hard that her fingernails dug into his skin. Mine.

Breathing hard, L pulled back, giving Misa room to hang her head and cough, struggling to catch her breath as well. Speaking was rather difficult after that harsh way he had used her, but she looked up at him again and asked, “Was Misa good?” Her voice sounded strange to her ears, rough and scratchy. She felt vulnerable, suddenly, like the wrong answer might break her apart.

Rather than responding with words, L dropped to the floor in front of Misa, surprising her, and wrapped his arms around her. He lifted her easily and pulled her onto his lap, curling his whole body around her small frame. She thought she felt him shaking a little, so she stroked his hair. They probably looked ridiculous like this: L still naked from the waist down, sitting on the floor, clutching Misa to his chest like a teddy bear. But he was so warm, and she couldn’t remember the last time someone had held her like this, like something precious. Like he needed her. She just felt so happy, that she had been able to please him, that he wasn't rejecting her afterwards. So Misa let herself melt into his arms, nuzzling into his chest as he held her and shook on the floor. He was the one holding her, but she felt somehow like he was in her protection.

“It’s alright, L,” she murmured gently, resting her head against his chest. “I’ve got you.”

Chapter Text

Misa didn’t really know what to do after something like that, as she had never done anything sexual with someone who wasn’t her boyfriend before, and L didn’t seem to know, either. Eventually, he made himself decent again and left, presumably to go back to his own room, but not without giving her a rather awkward hug and a kiss on the forehead. (A kiss on the forehead! From L! Like they were dating or something! What a world. Misa could barely get her head around it.)

The next day, she was worried that L might regret what had happened or start avoiding her. Maybe, she wondered, he’d view it as a momentary lapse of judgment and re-double his efforts to resist her? She was scared to see him, but after spending half the day avoiding him, the frustration of not being able to see him, and of wondering what he was thinking, became harder to bear than her worries, so she went out to the task force room, trying her best to act normal.

As it turned out, she needn’t have worried. Rather than avoiding her, from the moment she entered the room, L couldn’t keep his eyes off her. It was actually problematic: her cheeks were burning from the attention, which made it significantly harder to act normal. She didn’t spend the whole day in the room, but it got to the point that whenever she came in, he would watch her with such intensity that the other men started shooting puzzled looks at the two of them. It was a little embarrassing, but she couldn’t help but preen at being the center of attention, and she ended up making a lot of excuses to hang around while they worked.

She read magazines, listened to their conversations, and just generally did her best to avoid thinking too hard. She didn’t want to have to think about her feelings for Light, or what this new dynamic with L meant for them. Somewhere along the line, chasing L had become less about getting back at Light and more about the chase itself. She was pretty sure that she still loved Light, but she didn’t owe him anything. And being wanted by L, being held by him, made her feel happy. Didn’t she deserve to be happy? She didn’t need to understand it.

Despite all the staring during the day, which had gotten her hopes up, that evening did not see L making another appearance at her door. Misa tried her best not to be upset. (Not that she’d had any qualms about being clingy in the past, but she wasn’t that serious about L, so it shouldn’t matter whether he came to see her, right?) However, she was upset. Just a bit. By a few hours after sunset, she had worked herself into a huff. What could he possibly be doing that’s more important than me? You’d think sucking a guy’s dick would be enough to make you a priority.

Well, if he wouldn’t come see her, she would go see what he was up to. Not that she was going to seek him out first, of course. She was just bored and wandering around the hotel. And if she happened to run into L, well, maybe she would tell him off.

Misa slipped out of her room quietly, in the hopes that he wasn’t paying attention to the monitors. Maybe she could surprise him. As she walked down the hallway in her bare feet, doing her best to be sneaky, she started to hear voices. They weren’t raised, exactly, but she recognized one as L’s, and there was a strained quality to it that spoke of conflict, even as he kept his usual monotone. Before recognizing any of the words, she was able to pick out her own name, “Misa.” But nothing else. It took her awhile, as she approached the room, to realize that the reason she couldn’t seem to make out the words was because they weren’t speaking Japanese at all. English?

Peeking around the corner into the main room, she made out the figure of L, crouched in his usual chair in front of the computers, and Watari standing off to the side. Which she should have expected, given that the three of them were typically the only ones on the floor when the task force members went home for the day.

Misa knew some English, but not enough to follow what they were saying, especially as their voices were low. But she could tell that they sounded fluent, and she thought they were speaking British English, rather than the American dialect. It was hard to tell, because L’s tone of voice rarely changed, and Watari sounded unfailingly polite and calm, but they seemed to be arguing. About… her? She was sure that she heard her own name a few times.

Does he know? she wondered, suddenly, with a little spark of anxiety. Why else would they be arguing about her, tonight of all nights, if Watari didn’t know that they had hooked up? Not that it was any of his business what she chose to do. He couldn’t blame her for it, after all. But that didn’t mean she didn’t feel uneasy at the idea of this dignified, almost school-teachery elderly man knowing about her sex life. It was embarrassing! It felt like having her grandpa catch her with a boy or something.

She leaned against the door frame, peeking out at them, focusing as hard as she could to try to understand what they were saying, but she was totally lost. She was concentrating so hard that, when her own name was repeated again, it took her a second to realize that it was being used to address her, rather than refer to her. A jolt went through her as both men turned to look at her hiding place, but she emerged fully, rubbing her head bashfully at being caught. Watari looked mildly surprised at her presence, with an undercurrent of… annoyance? Yeah, that felt right. L’s expression betrayed little, but she got the impression that he wasn’t surprised at all. In fact, she wouldn’t be surprised if he had known she was there all along.

“Having fun eavesdropping?” L asked in Japanese, face blank, and she blushed.

“I wasn’t—Uh, I just wanted to get a, uh, snack, and I heard voices, so I was just…” She trailed off, staring down at her hands. She could tell neither of them were buying it.

Watari, who had always looked at her so kindly, seemed somehow different now. Misa was good at reading people, and he was just radiating disapproval, despite his calm expression. She flushed a little in both embarrassment and anger. How dare he judge her? It wasn’t any of his business what she and L did together!

“I’ll just, uh, I’ll just be going back to my room now,” she said after a long silence.

“That would be best, Miss Amane.” Ouch. She hadn’t even known that the old man had such an icy tone in him. She glanced at L nervously, and he nodded, but his eyes were soft, and she even saw what seemed like the hint of an apologetic smile on his face.

As she flounced on her heel and left, feeling the need to put some extra oomph into her step just to show Watari that he didn’t intimidate her, Misa fumed. It made her mad, that Watari would judge her for something like that. It made her mad, that he would even know something like that about her! It was perverted of him, to think about her sex life like that, let alone to cast judgment. Old men like him shouldn’t even know about sex! They should only think about old man stuff, like newspapers and hats and feeding pigeons. (Misa didn’t know many old men.)

At least she didn’t have to be angry at L anymore. She had seen enough to assume that Watari had been the one preventing him from visiting her that night. It was more comfortable, to be able to blame Watari. She didn’t like being angry at L, or anxious about whether their night together had meant anything to him. And that smile he gave her as she left the room made her feel warm, like they were co-conspirators. Just the two of them against the world, or, at least, against stuffy, perverted old men.

L waited to speak again until he saw Misa re-enter her bedroom on the video feed, and Watari, ever dutiful, patiently waited in silence with him. He had allowed her to hear enough that she would know his absence tonight wasn’t a rejection of her; as he had seen with Light, Misa was very sensitive to feeling ignored or overlooked, and she would likely be more so after an intimate moment. If he wanted to keep her trust, he needed her to think of them as being on the same side. He was hoping that she didn’t understand English, but even if she did, he had kept the conversation away from anything compromising.

Finally, when the door shut, he turned his attention back to his handler, suppressing a tired sigh. He didn’t even know how he felt about the previous night, so he would have preferred to keep it to himself for awhile longer, but Watari, as he suspected, seemed to have an almost preternatural ability to know when one of his charges had been up to some indiscretion or another, and had sniffed it out the second he saw L look at Misa that afternoon. L thought he had managed to act perfectly normal around her, but Watari knew him too well. Having such an observant, competent handler had always been an asset, but in this particular situation, it felt like more of an annoyance than anything.

“Watari,” he said, cutting the older man off before he could speak. “This conversation isn’t going anywhere productive. We’ve been going in circles for hours now. I’m well aware that you believe I am both abusing my power over Misa and endangering myself by letting my guard down around the second Kira, and you are aware that I believe that Misa is currently harmless, and that this could be my best opportunity to gain an advantage over Kira. She trusts me. I would be stupid not to pursue that avenue in the investigation. If you have nothing further to add, I would like to get back to work.”

Watari sighed, deeply, and L felt a stab of guilt in his gut at disappointing the man, then a flash of irritation at himself for caring. It was hard, not to look up to Watari as an almost fatherly figure in his life, but L had no room for such emotions. He would take his assistant’s insights and suggestions, but as the detective L, he had a duty to follow his own instincts on his cases.

“You say this is about gaining an advantage over Kira, but I would feel much better about this if I believed you actually had the advantage in this situation. No matter how much you claim to have planned this outcome, from where I stand, it appears as though your heart, or body, is ruling your head, rather than the other way around, and that’s unlike you. Sufficiently so that I am worried, more worried than I have been at any of the other… unusual methods you have deigned to use on this case.”

L set his jaw, trying his hardest to see himself as Watari’s employer rather than his ward. He didn’t feel as though he was succeeding. “I’m not a child, Watari, nor am I naive.”

The older man considered him for a moment, looking down inscrutably through his glasses. “Indeed,” he said, finally. “And believe me, L, in any other situation, I would be overjoyed to see you forming a connection with someone without a computer screen in between. I really would. But you know the threat that she poses. Faced with a woman of Miss Amane’s appearance and social status, even more… socially experienced men than yourself would struggle to remain objective. And if you forget what she is, what she might be capable of, even for a second, it could ruin you.”

L wanted to laugh. It wasn’t like he didn’t spend countless hours every day trying to find a way to reconcile what he suspected of Misa Amane—the second Kira, the volatile, merciless killer who had been the death of not only countless criminals but also police officers, TV journalists, and a member of their own task force—with the small, soft creature that fell asleep on his chest watching cartoons and played with his hair like he was her pet and seemed to thrive off tormenting him in her own sweet way, and who, at times, seemed almost breathtakingly desperate for his approval and affection. It was a contradiction, a puzzle, that was never far from his mind, that prevented him from ever truly relaxing around her.

There were times, when he was alone with her, when he would suddenly feel dizzy, like he had climbed up to a great height and knew he would slip and fall. Misa Amane made him feel a great many things, both good and bad, but not safe. Never safe.

“I won’t forget,” was all that he said to Watari, holding his gaze. The rest, he kept to himself.

Watari was silent for another long moment. Before he left L’s side, he said, “I just hope you know that you’re doing.”

“I do,” L said, and with nothing more than a nod, the older man left the room. But as L watched him go, he knew in his heart that he was lying.

Misa didn’t begrudge L his absence the night before, but she was a little worried that, with too much time alone, either he would talk himself out of it or Watari would. So, the following morning, Misa decided to give him a little push. She threw on one of her favorite outfits, with ripped fishnet stockings and a plaid skirt that put her one gust of wind short of public indecency. (Not that she was allowed in public anyway.)

She skipped into the room, giggling when Matsuda told her that she looked cute, pointedly ignoring L’s eyes. When she had first started joining the task force at work, there was often an awkward silence when she entered the room, but either they had gotten used to her presence or L had convinced them that they didn’t need to hide the details of the investigation from her, because these days, they just kept on working whether she was in the room or not.

Luckily for them, Misa barely listened most of the time. Mostly she read women’s magazines, stared out the window, and daydreamed. Today, however, her curiosity was provoked by a video on the screen. It looked like a rally, and there was some weird looking guy with glasses and shaggy black hair (not unlike L’s, actually) at the center of it.

“Who’s that?” she blurted out, stopping the conversation in its tracks. Mr. Yagami and Mr. Mogi glanced at L, waiting to see if he would allow her the information.

L turned to face Misa, a spark of curiosity in his eyes. “That’s Teru Mikami. He’s the leader of a popular pro-Kira group and frequently speaks on television.”

“Huh.” I didn’t realize the pro-Kira groups were getting so big, Misa thought. I wonder if I’ll be allowed to say I’m pro-Kira when I go back to my normal life again. She didn’t think too hard about what conflicts might arise from being pro-Kira and friends (or more) with L at the same time. After all, she was just a model. She wasn’t a detective and she didn’t have any special powers, so did it really matter if she still thought Kira was cool? It was just a difference of opinion, like supporting different political parties or something.

“What do you think of him, Misa?” L asked. “I would be interested to hear your thoughts.”

Misa was surprised. So far, during the time they spent together, L had avoided bringing up anything related to the case. And he had certainly never asked her opinion in front of the task force. Then again, she hadn’t joined any of their conversations until now.

“Well…” she said slowly, watching the man on the screen. “From how he talks, he seems to understand Kira’s desire for justice. He doesn’t seem bloodthirsty or anything.” She frowned. “But he’s a little creepy, somehow. I don’t think I like him.”

“Hm.” L touched his thumb to his lips as he considered her words. “Anything else?”

Misa couldn’t really think of anything more to say, but she didn’t want to admit that and look stupid in front of everyone. “Um, I like his hair?”

“Do you now.” His voice was deadpan, but she could have sworn she saw a flash of amusement in his eyes. Everyone shifted around awkwardly as he considered Misa, then spun his chair back to face the screen again.

Misa watched Mikami for awhile, curious, but something about him reminded her of Light, and she didn’t really want to think about him right now, so she quickly zoned out. She put more of her energy into playing with her hair, waiting for L to look her way so that she could catch his eyes for a moment. Taunting him while he was trying to work was honestly way more fun than paying attention to the investigation.

At one point, while L was stacking sugar cubes on a spoon in an unsteady tower, he happened to look Misa’s way, and she swept her tongue across her lower lip, winking at him. His hand trembled, and a second later, the entire tower collapsed, sending sugar cubes scattering all over the floor and drawing every eye in the room to him. She had to struggle not to laugh at him in front of everyone.

She waited awhile for the commotion to settle down before making her next move. When Misa was sure that L was watching her, she stood up and stretched both arms above her head with a yawn, her shirt riding up to expose a flash of bare midriff. “I’m bored,” she announced. “I’m gonna go make some coffee.”

Walking away down the hallway, she had to actively stop herself from looking back. But she grinned to herself when she heard L’s voice behind her almost immediately, saying, “I’m out of snacks. I’ll be back. You can continue working without me.”

Misa didn’t stop to wait for him to catch up, just kept walking towards the kitchen like it was her goal all along, but she did put an extra bit of sway in her hips. When she reached the room, she stopped next to the coffee maker, but made no actual move to grab it. She just waited until she heard L enter the room, then turned around, putting on her best look of surprise. “Did you want some coffee, too?” she asked.

L crossed the room faster than she had even realized he could move and pulled Misa into his arms, leaning down to kiss her. It was, she realized, the first time he had initiated something between them (well, if her teasing him all day didn’t count as “initiating”). She laughed breathlessly into his mouth and let herself be swept up, wrapping her legs around his waist as he lifted her off the floor and sat her on the kitchen counter.

As she tugged him closer, crossing her ankles behind his back, L broke the kiss and leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Misa, you are unbelievable. I don’t know how you expect me to get any work done at all.” The scolding might have been more convincing if he hadn’t stopped every other word to kiss along her ear and the side of her neck. Rather than answering, she wrapped her arms around his back and tilted her head to the side for him, letting out little whimpers that she muffled in his chest.

“Someone could walk in on us,” L insisted, but his voice was shaky and rough. “Watari already knows, as you might have picked up on last night. I had to spend hours convincing him that this wouldn’t affect the case. If the other men find out, it will be even worse.”

Misa pulled back to look L in the eyes, smiling in a way she was sure must look incredibly smug. “I don’t care~~” she whispered in a singsong. He should be proud to show me off to them. Maybe I’ll leave a hickey on his neck just so he can’t hide it. She had to fight not to laugh just from picturing how he would react to that.

L closed his eyes for a moment as if gathering his patience, so she cut him off before he could speak, kissing him hard and pulling his body to hers. He was already hard and moaning into her mouth at the friction. His mouth was so warm and soft, with no stubble or anything, and he was a fast learner, already much more confident than he had been during their first kiss in her room. For a few moments, he relented, kissing her frantically with one hand stroking her bare stomach under her shirt and the other holding her against him. Impatiently, Misa grasped his wrist and pulled it higher until he was groping her breast through her sheer lace bra, and his hips stuttered against hers.

Even when L broke the kiss, panting, his hips kept working in small jerks, grinding up against her. “Misa,” he whispered into her neck, “someone could walk in on us. We should—ahh!” His sentence trailed off into a gasp as she sucked gently beneath the corner of his jaw.

At the sound of footsteps, they both froze in place for a second. L pulled back rather frantically and Misa slid back down to stand on the floor, fixing her clothes. “We’ll continue this tonight,” she whispered, then stepped away from him at the exact moment Matsuda entered the kitchen.

“Hey, Misa-Misa!” he said brightly, seemingly oblivious to the charged atmosphere. “I was wondering if I could have some of that coffee you were making?” Misa spun to face him, but L kept his lower body angled towards the counter, moving only his shoulders and head.

She tilted her head at Matsuda and grinned. “What coffee?”

“I thought you said you were going to make—”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Misa interrupted, walking towards the door and ignoring Matsuda’s look of complete confusion.

Just as she passed through the door into the hallway, she heard him say, “Well, Ryuuzaki, shall we get back to work?”

“Go ahead without me,” L said in a rather strangled voice. “I’m thinking about something.”

“You okay? Your voice sounds strange,” Matsuda asked. Misa passed out of hearing range before she could hear L’s response. She kept her giggles to herself until she was back in the safety of her room.

Chapter Text

Waiting for night to fall was difficult. She showered, shaved, and covered herself with lotion, but when all that was done, it was still afternoon and Misa still had too much time to think. She had never had sex with a guy before, not all the way. Was she really going to do it with L? The idea felt so far-fetched, somehow. Not bad, just hard to believe. She changed her outfit a dozen times before ending up in the exact same thing she had been wearing all day, minus the stockings and other accessories. When evening came, she was too nervous to wait around in her room, so she slipped out and snuck down the hallway.

For once, L wasn’t at his computer, so she went to his bedroom. She had never been inside, but she knew where it was. Just as Misa worked up the courage and raised her hand to knock, the door swung open.

L was standing in the doorway, looking quite startled to find Misa right outside his door. He must have just taken a shower—the ends of his hair were still wet, leaving damp patches on the collar of his white shirt. “I was just about to come to your room,” he told her, gesturing down the hallway.

In response, Misa just rose up on her tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss against his lips. In a movement smoother than she would have expected from him, L wrapped one arm around her waist, drawing her into the room and pulling her close to him as he shut the door behind her. By the time they separated, both were breathing hard and flushed pink. Neither of them seemed to know where to go from there, though, so Misa just found herself blurting out, “Bed?”

L shifted a little nervously as Misa blinked up at him. “I don’t have any expectations,” he said, speaking quickly, like he felt the need to reassure her. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can take it slow.”

Taking a deep breath, Misa pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it aside, nearly knocking over a lamp in the process. She undid the zipper on the side of her skirt and let it fall to her feet.

L’s mouth actually hung open, like something out of a cartoon, as she stood there in her underwear, trying not to blush. For once, the detective was speechless. Finally he seemed to get control of his facilities again and nodded emphatically. “Bed.”

But when they reached L’s bed (surprisingly normal-looking, though she supposed that, given that they were in a hotel, it couldn’t be too different than any of the others), L put his hands on her shoulders to stop her from climbing onto it. To her surprise, he dropped to both knees in front of her. She had to blush and look away, feeling uncomfortably exposed, as he ran both hands in featherlight touches up and down her sides and legs. He slid her underwear off of her delicately, in a way that made her think of a servant tending to a queen, and unhooked her bra with surprising ease.

“Beautiful,” he said softly, sounding more like he was talking to himself than to her.

Misa covered her face, failing to suppress an embarrassing squeak as L ran his hands up and down her naked body, kissing and nibbling at her breasts, cupping her ass in his hands. It felt good, but the force of his attention was completely overwhelming and she couldn’t take it for long. To distract him, she leaned down and tilted his head back, cupping his face with both hands while she kissed him.

After a moment, L stood back up and sat on the edge of the bed. “You know I’ve never done this before, so I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it,” he said. Only the slightest waver in his voice betrayed his nervousness.

“I haven’t either, you know,” Misa responded, and he shot her a surprised look. “I mean, I’ve done some stuff, like what we did the other day, but I never went all the way.”

L stared at her. “Are you sure you don’t mind me being your first? I know I’m not much like the sort of men you usually date.”

Misa wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She didn’t even know the answer herself. Since she had seen Light that day in Aoyama, she had assumed he would be the one to take her virginity someday. What if Light changed his mind and wanted her back, but she had done this with L? He dumped me, she reminded herself. I don’t owe him anything.

Avoiding the question, Misa just leaned over to kiss him again, and murmured, “Take off your clothes.” He scrambled to obey, but halfway through undressing, a pained look came over his face. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“I don’t have condoms,” L said, looking around frantically. “I should have bought some after the other night, I just don’t leave the building very much, and I didn’t want to ask Watari for something like that, especially after our argument.”

“Hey, hey, it’s fine,” Misa said, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop his panic. His muscles were tense where she touched him. “I have an IUD, actually. My mom was very progressive. She took me to get one when I started modeling, to make sure I wouldn’t make a mistake that could affect my career.” As always when she talked about her parents, she felt a twinge deep in her heart, but she pushed it aside.

“Oh.” L exhaled. “Okay, good.” She couldn’t help but think how cute he looked, sitting there shirtless in his jeans. He looked younger, somehow, and more human. Almost sexy. And he had the most beautiful collarbones. When he noticed her staring at him, he blushed, looking startled, which only made him cuter.

Focus, Misa. She frowned. “If you want to wait until you can buy some condoms, I understand…”

L shook his head quickly. “If I have to withstand another day of you teasing me like this, I think my head will explode.” The somewhat roundabout compliment to Misa’s desirability made her flush with pleasure, and she impatiently grabbed L’s pants, which were already halfway undone, and tugged at them until he got the picture and finished undressing.

Both of them finally being naked just drove home the fact that this was really happening. He actually had a pretty nice body, thin and pale, but with smooth, unblemished skin and lean muscles. She wanted to bite him, all of a sudden, but restrained herself. For now, at least. Trembling a little, she reclined back onto his pillow and pulled him towards her. He lay beside her, his full body extended for once, and pulled her into another kiss, running his hand along her naked skin. She found herself squirming as soon as his hand got anywhere close to her center, and when he slid his long fingers between her legs, she gave a nervous laugh.

“What are you doing?” she asked. Honestly, she didn’t know how these things were supposed to go, and had been sort of expecting him to just… stick it in.

“Especially as it’s your first time, it’s important to make sure you’re properly prepared first,” L explained, his voice so dry and matter-of-fact that she had to hide her face against his neck in embarrassment. “Try to relax.”

“Uh, okay,” Misa responded, though inwardly, she was thinking that he was stupid to expect her to relax when he was touching her like that. Especially when he retracted his hand long enough to lick his fingers, which somehow seemed even more lewd than everything else he had done so far.

He slid his hand against her folds, but didn’t press inside yet, just sort of rocked his hand gently against her. It didn’t feel as good as when she touched herself, but none of the guys she dated had done this to her before, so she didn’t have anyone else to compare him to. As it started to feel kind of nice, she realized that she had become pretty wet already. When he slowly inserted one finger inside of her, she gasped a little in surprise, clutching his shoulder uselessly for purchase, but it didn’t actually hurt like she was expecting it to, even though his hands were much bigger than her own.

“Huh.” L made a small noise of surprise, and she pulled back to look at him questioningly. “You’re really warm inside,” he explained. “Nothing I read said how warm it would be.” He had a look of intense concentration on his face.

He’s so… ugh! Misa felt like she must be beet red at this point. It was such an L thing to say, somehow, but also made her feel, as she often did with him, like she was an experiment under a microscope. He was just so much, all the time. Not that she minded, but his intensity could be overwhelming.

The heel of his hand pressed against her clit as he gently moved his finger inside of her. It wasn’t enough stimulation for her, not to get anywhere serious, but it felt nice nonetheless. When her legs fell farther apart and she started to rock down against his hand, hiding her face again, he slipped a second finger into her, and, shortly after, a third. The stretch took her breath away, but it didn’t hurt. Did this mean the sex wouldn’t hurt, either? She had heard the first time was supposed to be painful, but now she wasn’t even sure what to expect.

She found herself letting out embarrassing little whimpers into L’s shoulder. She didn’t feel entirely comfortable with this, with being the one who was receiving pleasure while he was able to remain detached. She wanted him to be the one falling apart, not the other way around, so after only another minute or so, she reached down and tugged at his wrist. “I’m ready.”

L gave her a doubtful look. “Are you sure? Things will go smoother and less painfully if I—”

“No, I’m ready,” she insisted, and he shrugged slightly. Then he did something she wasn’t expecting: he lifted his hand, the one that had just been inside of her, and licked his fingers in the exact same motion he used after eating cake. So now, not only was Misa embarrassed as all hell, but she was also going to remember this moment every time she saw him lick his fingers. Great.

L seemed to notice her confusion, because, without prompting, he reassured her, “You taste good.”

Misa couldn’t handle meeting his eyes after a comment like that, so she found herself staring down at the sheets. “I thought you only liked sweet things, like cake,” she commented, feeling dumb even as she said it. “I can’t imagine I taste much like cake.”

“You taste like Misa,” he said bluntly, gazing at her with no embarrassment whatsoever. “And I like Misa.” It was so stupid, she thought, that such a dumb comment could make her heart flutter so much. She almost wanted to kiss him, just for that, but not enough to find out how she tasted.

Finally, after dragging things out for so long, L gently pushed her onto her back and moved to kneel between her legs. She felt so exposed like this, naked on her back with her legs spread, nothing to hide her from his gaze. Her heart was racing at the thought of what they were about to do.

L moved carefully and silently, lining himself up. When he slowly pressed into her, his eyes closed and his fists clenched and unclenched uselessly in the sheets beside her head. She gasped at the slow, steady pressure of him filling her. Back when she was just looking at it, his size had seemed pretty average, but now that it was inside of her, it suddenly felt enormous, an invasion that split her open to the point that she couldn’t feel anything else. The pain wasn’t sharp, probably thanks to his preparation of her, but it was still intense. And, she realized with a jolt, he wasn’t even all the way in!

She let out a small whimper, willing her body to relax and accept the intrusion. Thankfully, L didn’t seem to be planning to move anytime soon. His eyes were still closed, brow furrowed, his mouth slightly slack, and she wondered if it felt as intense for him as it did for her. L opened his eyes and blinked at her, slowly stroking the side of her face as he let her adjust to the feeling. She couldn’t even imagine what kind of expression she must have on her face at this point. The look on his was like nothing she had ever seen on him before: raw and unguarded and hungry.

Misa wanted to see more of it, wanted to stop feeling so closely scrutinized, wanted him to lose himself, so she said, “You can move now.”

“It doesn’t still hurt?” L asked, strain evident in his voice. The thing was, it did. It still hurt, it was still just a little too much, but she didn’t want to tell him that. He might stop, and that wasn’t what she wanted. It was already too much, but she still wanted more.

So she decided not to answer him. “You can move,” she repeated, wrapping her legs around him to encourage him forward. “Don’t hold back. I want all of you.”

When L, accepting her words at last, began to finally thrust, to work his way in further, she felt like she might break apart. She also felt like she might want to. From the moment he started moving, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from making noise, moaning and twisting in his arms at the intensity of it. She hadn’t been ready, and it was just shy of too much, but the way that L groaned at the feeling of her muscles spasming around him and her desperate motion underneath him as he pushed his way fully inside of her, making her take him deeper than she believed she ever could, made her feel almost drunk with satisfaction.

“More,” she said.

She heard his sharp intake of breath, and then, without warning, he pulled out and snapped his hips forward, much faster than he had before. She let out a cry, tossing her head back against the pillow. The violent motion pushed her body up the bed a little, and he immediately wrapped one arm around her shoulders, holding her firmly in place as he began to fuck her.

Despite all of his gentle touches and preparation, when it came down to it, L was not an especially considerate lover, or a very skilled one, for that matter. He fucked like he ate: eagerly, with 100% of his attention, like there was nothing he would rather be doing, but without regard for propriety or table-manners. Once allowed to move, he quickly lost control, and he took her hard, harder than she was prepared for. What he was, though, was honest in his need for her, raw and vulnerable, holding nothing back, and that was even better. He was all clutching hands and sharp teeth and motion, always pressing closer, insistent in his need to bury himself inside of her. She felt almost like she was being consumed by him. To be able to take such a lonely, brilliant man and reduce him to this near feral state was a power that Misa had never experienced before. She wanted to give him everything. If it hurt, that was okay, too. She would hurt for him.

The first time was fast and desperate, so much so that she barely had the time to get her mind around what was happening. It was all she could do to hold on. She felt like she was going mad, but at least he was right there with her. And she gave as good as she got, sucking bruises into the pale skin of his chest and raking her fingernails down his back. She knew she must be hurting him, because of the way he jerked at the sensation, but the pain just made him moan and throb inside of her.

The whole time, he kept talking to her, fragments of sentences that he never seemed to finish. Words that seemed to climb into her chest and take root, words that she would replay in her head, over and over, in the weeks to come. Things like:

“Misa, you feel—”

“I didn’t know, didn’t know it would feel like this, no one said—”

“I need—”

“So tight, so warm—”

“God, I can’t, I need—”

“Misa, I can’t, god, I’m going to, can I—”

She squirmed, clenching around him almost unconsciously. The degree to which he had lost himself made her feel brave enough to respond without feeling shy: “Cum inside of me, L, please, I want to feel it.”

Misa’s words drew an involuntary sound from L: sharp, high-pitched, almost pained. He slammed into her hard, driving a cry from her lips, his fingers tightening on her arm hard enough to bruise. She felt pulse after pulse of warmth inside of her as his thrusts slowed and the full weight of his body settled on top of hers. Her pussy throbbed in response, like she was trying to draw him further inside, to empty him completely.

Misa felt filthy and utterly wrecked and on top of the fucking world. She had brought that out in him. She had made him feel that way. She had finally shut off that brilliant brain until he could think of nothing but the pleasure he could take from her body.

She also felt like she might suffocate under his weight if he didn’t get off her soon. “Uh, L?” she gasped.

“Oh, god, sorry.” Moving quickly, L pulled out of her, the unfamiliar sensation on his oversensitive cock making him hiss, and moved to lay next to her on his bed. He seemed to have control of his senses again, staring at her with a combination of awe and uncertainty. “Was that… Was that too much?”

Misa laughed, rolling onto her side to face him. “L, that was amazing, and if you try to apologize for it, I’ll bite you.”

His face was red, from exertion or embarrassment or maybe both. “I have to admit, I was hoping I could last a little longer.”

“Next time,” she told him, and he smiled slightly at the thought. She moved to lay her head on his shoulder with a contented sigh.

Misa had been laying on L’s chest, eyes closed, for only a few minutes when she began to feel a motion in his muscles under her. Curious, she opened her eyes, only to see his arm, the one that wasn’t holding her, moving slowly up and down. She let her eyes move farther down his body, to where his hand was slowly stroking his cock, which stood fully erect.

Her eyes widened, and she pulled back to look at his face. “Still?” she asked, incredulous. “Already?”

L’s cheeks flushed pink and he wouldn’t quite meet her eyes. “I’m afraid that you’ve tapped into decades of repressed libido,” he explained, almost apologetically. “You don’t have to do anything about it. This has already been more than I ever thought I would get.”

The self-effacing quality of his words pierced right to the center of her. After all that, he was still acting like he wasn’t allowed to have her, like she would change her mind at any moment. She was sore, but she wanted to make L feel good, and she wanted to make him understand that her desire for him was genuine. So she leaned in to kiss him, open-mouthed and sloppy, and he moaned into the kiss. Then she drew back. “Don’t be stupid,” she told him, but her tone was kind and her eyes were smiling. “Get up here and fuck me again.”

It was worth it already, just to see the surprise and happiness dawning on his face. She wondered what it would take to convince him that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. As he started to climb back over her, an idea came to her mind, making her blush again, and she put a hand on his side to stop him. “Wait, wait,” she said breathlessly. “I want to try a different position this time.”

L seemed a little startled by the request, but he nodded quickly. “Anything you want, Misa,” he said, swallowing heavily. “God, anything.”

Still feeling self-conscious, Misa shifted around on the bed until she was on her hands and knees, facing towards the headboard. This position felt kind of perverted, but in a hot way, and she wanted to be able to get lost in the sensations without being laid bare under his rapt gaze. She watched L’s eyes widen, taking in the sight of her, before he scrambled to get himself behind her.

“Like this?” he asked, still sounding a little nervous, but when she hummed in assent, he pushed back into her without another word.

“Ah!” Misa cried out at the intrusion, biting her lip. She was already more relaxed from the first time, and wet from their combined fluids, so it didn’t hurt, but somehow the feeling of fullness was even more intense from this angle. And, without being able to see each other, she felt more bold.

L groaned in response, fingers tightening on her hips, and he swore under his breath, sending a jolt of pleasure through her. “Fuck, fuck,” he repeated, and she pushed back against him just to draw more of those sounds from him.

He started to roll his hips, but slowly, already leaving her aching for more. Now that he had cum once, he seemed to have at least a modicum of control over his body, but that wasn’t what she wanted from him. Misa found herself repeating the word “Please,” not quite sure what she was begging for, and heard his breath catch behind her. L seemed to know, because he gripped her hips tightly and started thrusting harder, pulling her back against him with each thrust and driving small cries from her lips. Unconsciously, she tried to spread her legs a little wider, and L paused.

Misa was about to ask why he stopped when L set one hand on her upper back, right between her shoulder blades, pushing the front of her body down until her face was pressed against the pillow. He wrapped his other arm around her hips, tugging her ass further up in the air, and curved his body over hers before starting to move again, supporting his weight with the same arm he used to hold her down.

In this position, she felt completely shameless, letting L take control as she moaned into the pillow. The the weight of his hand still pressing her face-first into the mattress, the wet sounds they made as he fucked his own cum into her, were so incredibly hot that she didn’t know what to do with herself. But that was the advantage: she didn’t have to do anything, just let him manipulate her body. What she felt, really, was used, giving herself up to him so totally, almost like a whore, and that shouldn’t be so hot, but just the thought of it made her tighten around him in pleasure.

Misa could barely control the things coming out of her mouth, letting out sharp cries into the pillow as his hips snapped against hers harshly. The drag of his cock inside of her and the harsh way he took her, so soon after the first time, was driving her crazy. He grabbed her hair, yanking her head back and forcing her spine to arch, and she moaned, begging him almost incoherently to take her, to fuck her harder. And her words just seemed to drive him on, letting out sharp gasps in response, repeating, “Oh Christ, Misa, oh fuck, yes.”

Before she knew it, she was begging him to cum in her again. He obeyed her, seeming to let go of his last ounce of self-control as he thrust into her so hard that her body was forced down flat on the bed rather than bent at the hips. He followed her down, covering her prone body with his as he forced his cock in deep with fast, brutal thrusts, heedless of her comfort, biting down on her shoulder to stifle his cries as he filled her with his cum.

This time, having learned his lesson, L wrapped an arm around her and rolled them both to the side before his weight became too uncomfortable, slipping out of her as he did. She shivered at the feeling. She felt so dirty, with bite marks and bruises and two rounds worth of his release running out of her. She never wanted to feel anything else.

Misa pulled back just enough to turn around in his arms so she could see him again. He looked about as debauched as she felt, which made her glow with satisfaction. So, of course, he had to speak up and spoil the moment.

“Did you reach climax either time?” L asked, the bluntness of the question making her blush, even after everything that had just happened between them.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so.”

“Do you want me to—” He looked down at her crotch and she quickly shook her head.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Misa said in a rush. Her first boyfriend had told her that guys found that kind of thing gross, a lesson that she had immediately internalized. If she could make L feel good, she didn’t need or want anything in return. And she wasn’t sure she could handle having all of his focus on her, doing something just for her pleasure. It sounded embarrassing. Even the fingering had been a lot for her to handle.

They were both still a little embarrassed and shaky as they cleaned themselves up, taking turns in the shower, but at least they were able to be naked around each other without feeling super self-conscious.

“It’s pretty late,” L observed when they were both clean, wrapped in towels from his bathroom, and Misa felt her heart sink. The idea of going back to her room alone after something so intense made her want to cry, but of course he wouldn’t allow her to stay in his room. Unfortunately, she wasn’t very good at hiding her emotions, especially not with so much of L’s laser-like focus on her these days, and he leaned towards her, looking concerned. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she muttered, looking away. “I just… I was hoping I could maybe sleep here with you, I guess.” L paused, frowning, and she felt incredibly stupid all of a sudden. “It’s okay, I understand that I can’t—”

“You can sleep here,” he said, cutting her off, and she turned to stare at him.

“R-really?”

“We’ll have to be careful that no one sees you leave in the morning, but my door isn’t visible from where the task force works, so it should be okay. I don’t usually sleep very much, but I’ll do my best. It shouldn’t be too hard. You’ve really tired me out.”

Misa was surprised by the strength of the gratitude that washed over her. With a bit of a smirk, he tossed her one of his long-sleeved white shirts, exactly like the one she had stolen from his laundry—except that this one actually smelled like him instead of just detergent. She tossed her towel aside and pulled the shirt over her head. “You’re never getting this back,” she informed him as they settled under the covers, which he had apparently replaced with clean ones during her quick shower.

“I deduced that already,” L told her, and even in the dim light, she could tell he was grinning. “Goodnight, Misa.” She settled into his arms with a content sigh, but as the room grew quiet, her mind wandered.

Misa was a little jealous of L sometimes. He was so focused all the time, doing something that he really believed in. She had been a successful idol, but now she was forced to spend long days alone with nothing to do but think and feel sorry for herself. It made her feel a little uneasy about their power dynamic sometimes. She knew he wanted her, but at the same time, she didn’t have anything in her day-to-day life that made her happy besides L. Spending the evenings with him, flirting with him and wondering what might happen between them, was the only thing that made her days interesting. If he lost interest, she would be back in the same situation she’d been in when Light first dumped her.

She needed to make sure that she didn’t lose L’s interest or scare him off somehow. It wasn’t like she loved him or anything, but she didn’t know how she could withstand being abandoned by one more person. If she had been too much for Light, if she had let him down somehow or bored him, who was to say the same thing wouldn’t happen with L?

Misa burrowed herself into L’s arms. She wanted to be completely surrounded by him. She wanted to be closer, almost like she wouldn’t be satisfied with anything short of climbing into his rib cage and living there. When he tightened his arms around her, humming contentedly, she felt a lump in her throat. He made her feel safe, somehow, and like she was actually worth something. She had to be better than she was before. She had to be better for him. He couldn’t leave her the way everyone else did.

Chapter Text

Misa and L didn’t end up getting a full night’s sleep. It turned out that, despite L’s trademark aloofness, they were actually big hormonal idiots who couldn’t keep their hands off each other now that they had finally acted on their mutual attraction. Misa wasn’t even pretending that she was doing this to get back at Light anymore, either. It turned out that antisocial weirdos with bad posture really turned her on, for some unfathomable reason.

So when Misa woke up somewhere around 4 am to a half-awake L grinding sleepily against her thigh, she didn’t even pretend to be annoyed, just kissed him fiercely to wake him up and pulled him insistently on top of her. With all the lights off and both of them in the haze of sleep, the moment felt soft, almost dreamlike. They didn’t bother speaking, which helped substantially with making things less awkward.

Misa was surprised by the confidence with which L spread her legs and entered her. Maybe being half-awake shut off the part of his brain that was responsible for overthinking. He pressed his chest to hers, only moving his hips, and she felt so small and protected with the weight of him over her. When she started to clutch his back and moan, he covered her mouth with one hand to muffle the noises, which somehow made it hotter. She wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her fingernails into his back to urge him on, and he came just like that, pumping into her in the dark with his hand over her mouth, her small frame totally covered by his. He must have been making an effort to be quiet as well, because the only noise he made was a strangled gasp at his climax.

Unfortunately, while L was used to barely sleeping, Misa was not, so when his alarm went off in the morning, she wanted to murder the damn thing. At least she didn’t have anything to do, which meant that she could sleep in while he went to work with the task force. But getting out of bed proved difficult for L, because Misa, who was barely conscious, wrapped her arms around his neck and responded to his attempts to escape her grip by whining and clutching tighter, mumbling barely audible complaints like “Noo, don’t go, stay with me” and “Quit your job so we can sleep in together.” He eventually managed to trick her by replacing his body with a pillow.

By the time Misa dragged herself out of L’s bed, it was well past noon and she felt refreshed, if a little disoriented. She threw on her rumpled outfit from the night before, tucked the shirt she slept in under her arm, and looked both ways before sneaking out the door. Luckily she didn’t run into anyone on the way back to her room. She supposed the most likely person to be nearby was Watari, and he wouldn’t be surprised, but he was already unhappy about their relationship. She didn’t really want to make it worse by running into him while walk-of-shaming down the hallway in mid-afternoon with obvious sex hair, a bite mark on her exposed shoulder, and an expression on her face that clearly said “Hello, I just spent half the night getting absolutely railed by your weird detective boss-slash-son who is currently holding me captive.”

Back in the safety of her own room, Misa took a long, hot shower and changed into a fluffy pink bathrobe, then settled down in the armchair to paint her nails. She usually painted them when she wanted to think. The repetitive motions and shallow focus required made it easier to let her mind drift.

Her friends had told her, back when they used to hang out and talk about those sorts of things, that her first time would probably hurt and just generally suck. Last night… had definitely not sucked. It had been pretty incredible, actually, even the parts that kind of hurt. Had her friends been messing with her? Was L some sort of secret sex god? Unlikely, since he’d seemed to barely know what to do. Maybe it was just something about the two of them that made it good.

Would it have been like that with Light, if they had stayed together long enough to find out? It was hard to imagine Light doing that kind of thing at all. It seemed too messy and undignified for him. And when she tried to picture it, the memories of last night were too vivid and close at hand, so she just ended up flashing back to the way L had felt inside her, the way he had looked at her and touched her, and getting a bit hot and bothered again.

Honestly, to her surprise, Misa didn’t really want to imagine Light in that way, not when her memories of L were so salient. The thought of sex with Light was… not off-putting, exactly, but uninteresting, like she could take it or leave it. She supposed their relationship hadn’t been very physical or mature, so that kind of thing was hard to picture. It had mostly been about her feelings for him, and the way she thought of him had been very romantic, all princess fantasies and knights in shining armor. But those fantasies had never really had much to do with sexuality.

On the other hand, her relationship with L had begun in physicality, rather than romance. It felt somehow adult in a way her relationships hadn’t before. And her conception of him wasn’t romantic in any way she was used to. She didn’t exactly picture him as the knight-in-shining-armor type. But it didn’t feel like it was only sexual, either. What did it mean, that she felt so safe and warm when he held her? That he looked at her and touched her so gently sometimes, like she was something rare and wonderful? Was that another kind of romance, a kind that she didn’t recognize from fairy-tales and romance movies? Or was it just L’s weirdness rubbing off on her?

Whatever the answer, Misa had a strange feeling. Since her parents’ murder, she had felt a sort of emptiness inside of her, like a hole through the center of her chest. Maybe it had always been there, to some extent, and she had only become aware of it after losing them. It was this feeling, like she was hollow, just a sweet facade over a terrible blankness. She spent a lot of time chasing things that could make her feel anything, good or bad. There was her Kira fanatic phase, and then her relationship with Light. There were her efforts to be beautiful, to be thin, to be adored by fans. To be the perfect, cheerful idol, so that other people would find her worthy of their attention. Even before losing her parents, there was the string of boyfriends, all of them (like Light) charming but also distant and cold, requiring her to chase them. To prove to them that she was good enough.

Nothing had ever touched that emptiness inside of her. But last night, with L, there were moments when she felt like he was surrounding her with so much warmth, so much attention and desire and sweetness, that the hole felt a little smaller. Like it might not be bottomless after all. She hadn’t felt so safe with another person in a long time. She realized, to her shock, that she was almost okay with the fact that Light had left her, if it meant that she got to experience something like that.

Or maybe, Misa thought, as she finished the last nail and held her hands up to blow on them, she was still the same dumb, hopeless romantic, making a big deal out of losing her virginity and imagining that it had been something more than it was. Maybe L was just an awkward geek who was grateful for the chance to score a model, and the next time she saw him, there would be none of the sweetness that she remembered and she would regret not saving herself for a man like Light.

What did she really know about L, anyway? She decided to make a list in her head.

Things that Misa didn’t know about L:
- His real name, first or last
- Where he was from
- Whether he was even Japanese
- Anything about his family
- His exact age, though she had the impression that he was in his mid-20’s
- What his relationship to Watari actually was

Things that Misa did know about L:
- He liked sweets
- He liked Misa?
- He was a detective
- He could play tennis
- He thought she was the second Kira
- He wore the same outfit every day
- He was fluent in English
- He went by at least three names and probably none of them were real
- He was the smartest, strangest person she had ever met
- She had been his first kiss, and his first for everything else, too
- He watched her like a scientist and touched her like a worshiper, but he fucked her like a wild animal
- Three. times. in one night. Who knew he had it in him?

The things about him that she didn’t know seemed unfathomably large, and the things that she did know, so small. And yet, when she put them together, the whole picture was already larger-than-life in her mind. He felt more real to her than anyone she had ever met, and she didn’t even know his name.

Ugh. This was why Misa didn’t try to think about things too hard. It was all too confusing. What she needed, she decided, was some social interaction. That was more her speed. So she changed into a t-shirt with a band logo on it (something more modest than her usual attire, to cover the marks) and a poofy skirt and made her way out to where the task force worked.

When she entered the room, L raised his head almost lazily from the file he was examining and met her eyes, and she felt a little jolt of electricity down her spine. Okay, so I still feel it, then.

“Hey, Misa, how’s it going?” Matsuda called out. He was a bit clueless, but Misa liked him alright. He and L were the only ones who usually seemed happy to see her or interested in her life, rather than annoyed that she was interrupting and not being serious enough.

Misa made a big show of yawning and stretching. “I haven’t been awake very long, to be honest,” she admitted, and he laughed.

“Your sleep schedule must be so bad. It’s like no one in this hotel keeps normal hours.” As Matsuda said this, he passed L, who was crouched on the couch, and nudged him. L looked up at him, seeming vaguely startled by the contact, and Misa suppressed a smile.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I’ve got much to do,” she admitted.

“Want some coffee?” he offered, already clearly on his way to the kitchen, and Misa hit him with her brightest smile and a nod. As he left the room, she walked over and sat on the couch next to L, who was in the middle of reaching for a plate of cake on the coffee table.

“What a healthy, balanced lunch,” she teased, and L looked up with a small smile.

“Would you like some cake, Misa?”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “No way. I know I’m not working right now, but I still have to watch my figure.” It was stupid of him to offer her cake, anyway. If she gained a lot of weight, then he probably wouldn’t want to have sex with her anymore. He should know better.

“Hmm.” L looked around the room, like checking if anyone was paying attention, then leaned in slightly. “You can have the strawberry, if you keep it a secret. The others might get jealous if they knew.” His voice was serious, but there was a bit of a spark in his eyes.

Damn, he’s so cute! She was surprised by the strength of her reaction to him, and reddened a little, looking away. Was he flirting with her? It was hard to tell, but Misa thought he was. She was so happy, all of a sudden—that he still liked her and hadn’t just been trying to sleep with her, that he could still somehow make normal things seem fun—and needed to express it somehow, so she threw herself forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Ryuuzaki!” she practically shouted, taking the strawberry and popping it in her mouth as most of the task force turned to stare at them.

L stiffened suddenly, his cheeks flushing red. “I’m glad you like the strawberry, Miss Amane, but please restrain yourself a little,” he said, voice cold, looking away from her. It was like a wall had suddenly come down between them, and Misa felt a rush of emotions all at once. She felt angry, and stupid, and so incredibly sad. Miss Amane?! What the hell?

Misa stood up from the couch, trying not to let tears come to her eyes. It was such a stupid thing to cry over, and she didn’t want the others to see her reaction. “Fine, I understand,” she said, her voice even. She walked briskly out of the room. Matsuda was returning just as she left, and she nearly knocked the coffee tray from his arms in the doorway, but she didn’t stop, just stormed away down the hallway as he stared after her in shock.

When she got back to her room and had the door shut behind her, Misa let herself cry a little, though she felt stupid the whole time. What was there to cry about? L was just being… L. But he had been so sweet to her, only to rebuff her in front of the entire task force like she was an annoying child. He was the only person who hadn’t treated her like she was too much for him, but apparently that couldn’t last. What an asshole, she decided. He was the one who was flirting with her, and then he acted like she was crazy for being a little affectionate? What was his problem?

By the time evening fell, Misa was fuming and full of conflicting desires. She wanted to see L so she could tell him off, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to go to his room first. So he better come see her. But she didn’t want him to just assume that he could come to her room whenever, like she had nothing better to do than wait for him, if he was going to be such a jerk. So she wanted him to come see her, so then she could yell at him and tell him to go away, and he would feel stupid for making assumptions. Except she still did want to give him a piece of her mind, and she didn’t want him to just calmly accept it and leave like it didn’t matter to him, so when she told him to go away, he had to come back and beg her to talk to him.

But most of all, he had to come to her room. If he didn’t show up, that would be the worst thing of all. It would mean that he didn’t care at all, that he was just going about his normal life not even caring while she was obsessing over him like this. She would never forgive that.

So, when Misa heard the knock on her door, she felt extremely relieved, because it meant that he cared enough to come talk to her. But it also reminded her how angry she was. She answered the door instead of just telling him to go away, but she made sure to open the door really hard and cross her arms at him and not say anything, just to make sure that he knew she was mad.

“You’re upset with me,” L said flatly, more of a statement than a question. She didn’t invite him in, but he let himself into her room anyway and shut the door behind him. She wasn’t sure whether to be angry at his presumptuousness or gratified that he was being persistent even when she was ignoring him. So, in true Misa fashion, she felt both things at once.

“What gave you that idea?” she snapped, but if she hadn’t been happy about his persistence, she wouldn’t have responded at all.

“Your hostile body language, the fact that you stormed out of the room earlier, the…” L trailed off as she scowled at him. “Oh, I see, that was a rhetorical question.”

Misa finally let herself explode. “I don’t get you, L! Are you just one of those guys who’s nice to your girl when you’re alone with her, but acts like a jerk when your friends are around? Misa thinks guys like that are the worst!” She said this with conviction. She had a lot of experience with guys like that.

“My girl?” L responded, blinking. Of course he chose the wrong part of that to pay attention to. “Is that what you are?”

“I… You… Shut up!” Misa sputtered, blushing.

L sighed. “Misa, I think I need to remind you that I’m not some guy you’re dating in college or something. This is not a normal situation. Those men are not my ‘friends,’ they are my fellow investigators. They are helping me to catch Kira, they are risking their lives, and you are one of our suspects. I was not trying to be cruel to you or reject you. You were drawing too much attention to our relationship, and I was trying to maintain some level of plausible deniability that I am not risking our investigation by sleeping with a suspect.”

Misa blinked at him, feeling suddenly deflated. That made more sense than she had expected. But she was still upset. “If I’m such a risk, if you still think I might be the second Kira, then why are you sleeping with me?” she demanded. “What am I to you, L? Just a game to pass the time during your investigation? Why am I worth the risk?”

L shifted, looking uncomfortable. “I’m not sure. It bothers me, not to know. But you’re not just a game or anything like that. I wouldn’t get involved with you for shallow reasons. I do care about you, Misa.”

“That’s a pretty weak answer, you know,” she huffed, trying to hide how pleased she was just by the fact that he said he cared about her. “It’s not very romantic at all.” She glanced at his bare collarbone, exposed by the neck of his shirt. She wanted to touch him, suddenly, so badly that it almost hurt. But they were still in a fight, so she couldn’t.

“What about you, then?” he asked. He looked almost angry, all of a sudden, which startled her. “You’re asking if I care about you, but a month ago, you were in love with Light. Is this just happening because you’re lonely? Am I just a substitute for him? Do you just need someone to pay attention to you, no matter who?”

Misa didn’t even know where to begin answering that question. How she felt about Light, and what that meant for whatever was happening between her and L, was beyond her understanding. So she responded to another question instead. “Can you blame me for being lonely? You’re the one who put me in this situation in the first place, so if I’m relying on you for comfort, it’s because of you! Your life hasn’t changed. You still do whatever you want all day, work on your case, and I just fit into your life when you have time for me.

“You took away everything that I cared about. Not just Light. I can’t see my friends, I can’t talk to my sister, I can’t work, I can’t even go outside! I know that it’s not exactly important or serious like being a detective, but I like modeling. I’m really good at it, and it makes me happy! But you won’t let me do anything, so all I can do is sit around waiting for you to pay attention to me, and then you act like I’m too dependent, or like I’m using you? I’m your prisoner, L. You made me depend on you for everything. If anyone is taking advantage, it’s you.”

When she finished, Misa was shaking, and L looked like she had struck him. “I… can’t just let you go about your everyday life, Misa. I know it feels unfair, but you’re still suspected of—”

“I’m so sick of that! You can trust me enough to have sex with me, but not enough to let me leave the building for a few hours? If you were going to try to be all detached and professional, you shouldn’t have gotten close to me in the first place. You’re just messing with my head.”

“Misa, I’m not—”

“Please,” she cut him off, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort. “Just leave me alone.”

L felt weary down to his bones when he returned to his bedroom alone. Three days ago, he had told Misa that he couldn’t sleep with her because sex would complicate things. Then he had immediately gone back on his word and proven himself right. He had woken up that morning with Misa happily asleep in his arms, and he had ended the day being basically thrown out of her room. And he couldn’t even say she was incorrect.

From the perspective of the case, the right thing to do was to expand Misa’s freedom. Nothing was happening with her locked up at the headquarters. She seemed totally innocent and hadn’t done anything suspicious at all. If he wanted Misa to be his ticket into the secrets of the Kira case, he had to let her off the leash a little.

But L was selfishly resisting. He had known that he would get too emotionally involved if he did this, but knowing what to watch out for hadn’t stopped it from happening. He trusted his instinct, and his instinct was telling him that if he let Misa go, he might lose her completely. That the Misa who was his—or, at least, the Misa who he had come to know—might disappear upon contact with the outside world. This was just a fluke. She was right—she had nothing and no one in her life right now, other than L. It was only natural that she had become attached to him. When her world expanded, she wouldn’t need him anymore, and she wouldn’t want him, either.

Maybe she would fall right back into Light’s arms. After all, that was how the world worked. That was what made sense: Misa with Light. He was the one she had been crazy about. He was the one who seemed so perfect from the outside, who could look good with a girl like Misa on his arm. L, on the other hand, was the man that Misa would apparently sleep with if he was literally the only option available. And when Misa went back to Light, he would bring the Misa who was Kira back to the surface, and the Misa that L knew would be buried underneath.

He was surprised by the possessiveness he felt at the thought. It wasn’t really a feeling that he was used to, but some part of L wanted to hide Misa away from the world forever, to keep her where she could be his and only his. He had so little that belonged to him. It seemed unfair, that she could be taken away from him, too.

And if she went back to Light, the only thing L will have accomplished in these past few months would be teaching the second Kira how best to hurt him. She would go back to wanting to kill L, but this time, she would know how to make it hurt. Maybe all L had done was guaranteed his own destruction at her hands.

But if he held her captive and restricted her freedoms just so he wouldn’t lose her to Light, he would lose her another way. She would grow to resent him, maybe even to hate him. She was already pulling away. She would never be able to trust him, to have a real connection with him, if he kept her locked up in a cage. He had gotten used to being the only thing in her life, without even realizing how it was hurting her.

Misa was right. He had taken advantage. He had purposefully taken advantage of her isolation to become her friend, and he had justified that to himself as being necessary for the Kira case. Maybe he had even been correct. But when the chance to have an intimate relationship with her had arisen, and he took advantage of that, too? That hadn’t been for the case. That had just been for L.

Maybe a truly brilliant, dedicated detective could turn something like this to their advantage, could use their intimate relationship to manipulate her and solve the case. But L was in over his head. He couldn’t use Misa like that, not when she had given him the only truly intimate connection with another human being that he’d ever had. Emotionally intimate, too, not just sexually. He couldn’t betray her trust, especially knowing that, if she really had lost her memories, she was, for all intents and purposes, currently innocent and practically at his mercy. He couldn’t be that ruthless, but he couldn’t be good, either. A good man, knowing he had taken advantage of her, would set her free. But L didn’t think he was strong enough to let her go.

In the end, he was just like Kira after all: he was childish and he hated to lose. He had been like that even back when the stakes were low, when he saw everything and everyone in his life as part of a game. And now, for the first time, he had something real to fear losing.

Chapter Text

For the next few days, L gave Misa her space. She couldn’t decide whether to be happy that he had respected her wishes or angry that he hadn’t tried harder. Mostly, she was just tired. Without him, she had too much time on her hands, and she started to realize that she needed to interact more with the rest of the team. If she wasn’t allowed to see anyone else, then they were her only possible allies in this place. Relying on L so completely was unnerving, especially since he could get sick of her at any moment, just like Light had. She needed to connect with people other than him.

Misa knew that her charm was her strongest weapon. On her own, she might be basically helpless, but she knew how to get people on her side. She just had to make an effort.

So, one morning, she decided to wake up at a more reasonable hour than usual and try to interact with the task force. Just because L was avoiding her didn’t mean that she had to avoid him, after all. In an outfit about as casual as she ever got, just a plain black dress and thigh highs, she finally left her room. On the way to the main room, she stopped in the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee. Matsuda had been nicer to her than anyone else, and she had ruined his plans to drink coffee with her twice in a row, so she wanted to make up for it.

To Misa’s surprise, as she approached the room, balancing the tray of coffee and mugs in her hand, she heard her name. The men seemed to be discussing her. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but Matsuda’s voice was the loudest, and when she entered the room, he turned and positively beamed at her.

“Misa-Misa!” he greeted her, not noticing how the others, particularly Aizawa, flinched at his exuberance. “Perfect timing!”

Laughing a little in surprise, Misa set the tray down on the table. “What do you mean? Also, I made some coffee, if you or anyone else would like any.”

Matsuda seemed unnecessarily touched by the gesture, eyes shining. “That’s so nice of you, Misa-Misa!” When she raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to continue, he blushed a little. “Oh, right. Since no one knows you were arrested on suspicion of being the second Kira, I’ve been posing as your manager over the phone, just to make sure no one thinks you disappeared.” That was news to Misa. Of course L would just decide to do something like that without telling me, she thought, somewhat uncharitably.

“Anyway, I got a call today. Your disappearance has actually increased your popularity! You made #1 on the Eighteen readers’ popularity poll, and you’ve been asked to play the lead role in director Nishinaka’s next film!”

For a moment, Misa’s heart leaped. She couldn’t believe that her career had kept improving without her, even though she had totally vanished from the public eye. And playing the starring role in a feature film was an opportunity she never thought she would get. But then, with a glance at L, her mood soured.

“That’s great,” she said, “but Ryuuzaki would never let me leave the headquarters to do something like that. You’ll have to call the director back and tell her to find someone else.” With a sigh, she sank down into a chair. So much for my good mood.

“Actually…” When L spoke, Misa snapped her head around to face him. She had barely heard his voice in days, and she had missed it more than she wanted to admit. “I’ve been thinking it over. The second Kira’s killings have continued, and Misa hasn’t done anything suspicious since she’s been here, or harmed any of us. And Matsuda tells me that there are starting to be weird rumors about where Misa has gone, which might bring undue attention upon our task force. As long as one of us remains in her company at all times, and she returns to the hotel after filming each day, I don’t see why Misa shouldn’t be allowed to take part in the film. She can only be gone for so long before she loses her popularity. If she’s innocent and is released in the future, we want her to still have a career to return to.”

Misa felt like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Was L really going to let her work on the film? And was it really because of the reasons that he had outlined, or had their argument actually changed his mind?

“Is it really a good use of police time to make one of us spend hours monitoring Misa on a film set?” Aizawa asked, and she shot him a glare.

But L had a response to that, too. “Matsuda has already volunteered for the job. Besides, it’s possible that Misa had some connection to the Kiras, even if she wasn’t one. Maybe letting her out in public again will prompt one of them to contact her.” Aizawa seemed to accept that, maybe because sending Matsuda out as Misa’s guard wouldn’t actually impact the task force’s efficiency very much.

Misa wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. Being contacted by Kira sounded kind of scary, even if she was a fan. It sounded almost like L wanted to use her as bait… But then again, who cared? She got to go back to work, and see other people, and be Misa-Misa again! She was so happy that she wanted to kiss him on the cheek again, but she restrained herself. If L could compromise, she could try to as well.

Still, she couldn’t suppress a squeal, and she tried to communicate just how happy and grateful she was by grinning broadly at both L and Matsuda. “Thank you so much! I promise that you won’t regret it!” She even took Matsuda’s hand, bouncing a little, as a substitute for touching L.

Misa poured coffee for all three of them, adding a dozen sugar cubes to L’s before he could even ask, and began chattering excitedly with Matsuda about the poll and the movie. Meanwhile, L stayed silent, but she thought she could see a hint of a smile on his face. This day was turning out even better than she could have dreamed. Not only was she making progress on making other friends in the task force, but her career was progressing, and L had taken her complaints to heart. Maybe things would be okay between them after all.

After about half an hour of this, Aizawa and Mogi were becoming obviously irritated with the volume of her conversation with Matsuda. Normally, Misa might have ignored this, but she thought it would be better to stay on the good side of the investigators, so she said a quick goodbye to Matsuda, restrained herself enough to merely nod to L, and skipped out of the room, humming to herself.

As Misa left, Matsuda let out a small sigh, staring off down the hallway after her. “Misa-Misa is really such a nice girl,” he mused. “I’m sure she can’t be guilty. And since her relationship with Light is over, and we’ll be spending a lot of time together while I act as her manager… Maybe when we catch Kira and clear her name, I’ll ask her to go out on a date with me. Do you guys think she would say yes?”

L choked on his coffee.

Misa had a good feeling about that night, after the small smiles and looks that L had sent her way in the investigation room, so she wasn’t too surprised when he arrived at her door. He looked almost nervous, like he wasn’t sure if she would just tell him to go away. His hesitancy made her feel generous. She smiled brightly and invited him in.

She had assumed the two slices of cake on the plate he was carrying were both for him. It wasn’t uncommon for him to carry around a plate of cake like other people might carry a bag of chips or something. But when he set the plate on the coffee table and produced a small candle and a pair of forks, she finally realized that he had something else in mind.

“What’s all this?” she asked, trying to suppress what she was sure must be a stupid grin. She just felt relieved that things were okay between them again, and that he had actually caved a bit on confining her to this hotel.

“I thought we could celebrate your movie role,” L explained, sticking the single candle into one slice of cake and lighting it with a plastic lighter from his pocket before she even had a chance to respond. “It’s a big step up for your career.”

“That’s sweet of you, but cake seems more of a celebration for you than for me. You know I don’t eat that kind of thing,” Misa said. But, still, she took a seat on the couch in front of the cake, looking up at him.

L frowned, biting softly on the end of his thumb as he considered this. “But cake is customary for a celebration, isn’t it? Since it’s a special occasion, shouldn’t it be fine?” When she patted the cushion next to her, he joined her on the couch, though he was in his usual crouching position.

Misa couldn’t help but be tempted. The cake really did look pretty good. But… “I don’t know,” she said, looking away. “I need to stay thin and pretty, especially with this new role. Who’s going to want an idol who eats fattening things all day?”

Fixing her with an oddly serious look, L leaned just a little too far into her personal space, but even that was comforting in its familiarity. “You seem frequently concerned about your weight,” he observed. “I don’t know what’s necessary for you as an idol, but you know, I don’t think anything could make you less pretty. Even if you ate cake every day like me and gained a lot of weight, you’d still be pretty.”

Misa felt herself blushing, pleased with his words, regardless of how blunt they were. It was hard for her to believe, but for a guy like L, maybe that kind of thing didn’t actually matter. Plus, she didn’t think he had the social aptitude to lie to her about something like that. Sure, he could lie when he needed to, but he didn’t seem interested in telling white lies to spare someone’s feelings.

Feeling emboldened, she blew out the candle and took a tentative bite of her slice of cake. Her eyes widened at the sweet taste. It had been so long since she’d allowed herself something like this. “Okay, okay, even I have to admit that’s pretty good,” she confessed, grinning. And L beamed at her. If she had known just eating a bit of cake would make him so happy, she would have tried it weeks ago. He was pretty simple, sometimes: he liked cake, and he (apparently?) liked Misa, so he wanted Misa to eat cake. She could imagine his thought process. Cake made him happy, so if Misa ate cake, she would be happy, too.

In the end, she ate the whole slice of cake, and she didn’t even feel bad about it. L ate his slice, too, but he kept shooting her looks, as if checking to reassure himself that she was enjoying the cake. It was sweet in a boyish sort of way. When she finished hers, he surprised her by sticking a forkful of cake in front of her face without preamble. “I saved you the last bite of mine,” he informed her, his voice so solemn that she had to fight the urge to laugh.

It seemed silly for him to save her a bite of his cake when they both had their own slices, but she knew this was the highest of honors L could think to give someone, so she dutifully leaned in and ate the cake right from his fork, making eye contact as she did so. When she pulled away, a bit of frosting smeared against the corner of her mouth, and she moved to wipe it off with a napkin.

“Let me,” L said, grabbing her hand. She assumed he was going to clean it with his finger, but instead, he leaned in and licked the frosting right off her face. He was so weird… But, since Misa had actually found that sexy rather than gross, she figured that she must be weird, too. She grinned as she grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled down him into a kiss, managing to knock them both off balance in the process, and she fell backwards against the arm of the couch with L on top of her.

Misa found that she didn’t even mind the awkward position. She was too busy feeling satisfied to be able to kiss L again, and to touch him, after days of wondering if their strange relationship would end as quickly as it had begun. Everything about the way he moved, the desperate way that he kissed her, the way his arm just snaked around her waist and fit there perfectly, felt familiar and lovely, even though they hadn’t been physically involved for that long.

He was just so… L, with his smell and his long hands and his hair falling in his face like always. Unsure how to handle the sudden wave of emotion, Misa threw herself into the kiss, letting out small noises into his mouth, clinging to him, and he held her tighter in return. She could make out with L like this for hours, she thought. But then his leg slid between hers and she arched into it, breaking the kiss to let out a breathy little sound into his neck, and his hand moved to run up the skin of her bare thigh, and she wanted. She pulled away, nudged her face up near his ear, and murmured, “Take me to bed.”

She expected him to stand and help her up off the couch, but instead, as L rose to his feet, he gathered her into his arms and lifted her into the air. Misa squealed in surprise at his strength and coordination, wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her to her bed. In what felt like no time at all, he had her naked under him, flushing with anticipation.

Still fully clothed, L paused and leaned over her, looking somehow thoughtful, resisting Misa’s impatient attempts to pull him back into a kiss and take his shirt off at the same time. “Awhile back,” he said, slowly, “you told me that I could do anything I wanted with you. Does that offer still stand?” His words sounded almost rehearsed, like he had been planning this.

Misa was surprised, but she nodded quickly. It did make her a little nervous, to wonder what sort of desire he felt he had to introduce so cautiously, but she wanted to make him happy. “Of course. If there’s anything, any fantasy you’ve had, anything you want to try, Misa will let you do it.”

“Anything at all?” he asked, reaching out to stroke her cheek with his knuckles, and she shivered, but nodded again. “In that case, I would like to perform oral sex on you.”

That was not at all what Misa was expecting, and she scrunched up her nose a little in disappointment. “Are you sure you don’t want to do something else?” she asked.

L frowned. “You said we could do whatever I wanted, didn’t you?”

“I mean, yes, but… I don’t understand why you would want to do that.” Misa pulled away a little, pulling up the sheet to cover her body.

L raised his eyebrows, barely visible behind his mess of hair. “You practically begged to give me oral sex the first time we were involved, but you can’t understand why I would want to reciprocate?” He paused, then continued. “Why don’t you tell me why you’ve been avoiding this? If you really don’t want to do it, I won’t force you.”

Misa looked away, shifting nervously on the bed. It took her a moment to work up the nerve to respond. “It’s hard to explain… I thought that men find that sort of thing gross? Like, it’s fine for a girl to do it, but it’s kind of weird the other way around. I mean, I haven’t even looked at myself down there, not up close. What if I smell or something? It just seems embarrassing.”

Staring at the sheets to avoid making eye contact, she was startled by the feeling of L’s hand covering hers. It was warm, and he squeezed gently. “You know, I thought it might be something like that. I’ve been doing research.” Of course he has, Misa thought, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. Trust L to turn their sex life into another case to solve.

(The thought that they, Misa and L, had a sex life, made her somewhat giddy.)

“It seems that many women, especially younger ones, have difficulty asserting their own sexual needs or feel like they should only give pleasure to their partners.” Misa frowned, but she did lift her gaze enough to meet his eyes. “I want to do this for the same reasons you want to do it for me, Misa. Just because you’re a woman and I’m a man doesn’t mean we have to be that different. You asked me what I want, and this is it. I know it can be hard not to be in control of things, but I want to make you feel good, too.”

At this, Misa felt a flash of indignance. “Hey, what you do mean, ‘it’s hard not to be in control’!?” she demanded. “What do you call what I’ve been doing every time we’ve had sex, then?”

L gave her a look, the kind that she was used to seeing aimed at other people, but wasn’t used to receiving herself. If she had to translate it into words, it would say something like, ‘I know that you’re smarter than that.’ But he smiled at her, just a bit. “Misa, you and I both know which of us is calling the shots when we have sex, no matter what the position looks like.”

Misa flushed, but she had to admit that he had a point. When she submitted to L, it was always on her own terms. In being the one to give him pleasure, to make him need her, she found a subversive sort of power, even if she was on her knees. Giving that up would be harder than she might have thought.

Of course, she admitted that only to herself, in her head. She wasn’t going to inflate his ego any further than it already was when it came to his ability to read her. “Whatever,” she said, trying to look disinterested. Letting him do this because he insisted was one thing, but being eager for it would be way too embarrassing. “If you really want to, you can try. It might not even work, though.”

“I do,” L insisted.

“So, uh, what do you want me to do?” Misa asked, shifting awkwardly on the bed.

“Well, given that you seem to fall into the 75% of women who can’t orgasm from penetration alone, and that you seem reluctant to let me pleasure you, even just with my hands, would I be right to assume that you’ve never been brought to climax by another person?” L asked, and Misa had to blush at the forwardness of the question. Leave it to him to bring fucking statistics into this, she complained inwardly, but she nodded. “But I know you’ve done it by yourself,” he added, bringing to mind the little show she had performed for the cameras in her room that one night.

Misa turned away, face burning. She gave no response, but he didn’t seem to be expecting one, so he just continued talking. “Every woman is different, from what I’ve read, and you know your body better than anyone. So I would like it if you can give me suggestions, or at least feedback, on what you like.”

“Uh, I don’t know, L…” Having to talk about something like that might be the last straw to tip her over into a spiral of self-consciousness. “I guess I could try. But can we maybe dim the lights some more?”

A few minutes later, Misa was settled on her back, still naked, but now with her arms crossed over her chest. She felt vulnerable in a way that she hadn’t before, with L down there between her legs, looking at her and stuff. The low lighting helped a little, but she still felt awfully exposed, and half certain that he was going to find it gross, or boring, or both.

Misa could feel his breath on her bare skin, making her squirm a bit on the bed. She was expecting him to just go for it, like she did when she touched herself, but instead, he surprised her by kissing and nibbling the insides of her thighs. She laughed a little, feeling a sort of nervous ticklishness, but it was somehow good at the same time. When he finally made his way to her center, beginning to slowly lick her, it felt even better, at least at first. But she started going off in her own head pretty quickly.

What was he expecting? What was she supposed to be doing? Should she be making more noise, so that he would feel like he was doing a good job? Did she look weird from this angle? Misa knew how to be sexy for someone else. That was second-nature. But what kind of performance was expected of her in this situation?

She felt stupid, just lying there all quiet, like she must be disappointing him, so she forced herself to moan a little. But L paused in what he was doing and looked up at her. “You don’t need to make noise unless it feels natural, Misa.”

“I…” she paused. “I don’t know what feels natural. This feels stupid. I don’t think it’s going to work.” Feeling hyper-aware of her nudity, she covered her chest a little more.

“It doesn’t have to work. If it feels nice, I can keep doing it.”

“But what if I can’t… you know? Then you’ll have done all this for no reason. Won’t you be disappointed?” Maybe he just wants to prove he can do it, like a challenge, she thought.

“The reason I’m doing this is because I want to do it, you know,” he replied. In the dim lighting, his pupils almost swallowed his eyes. “You don’t have to do anything except let yourself enjoy it. If you can’t climax, that’s okay, too. It can just feel nice for awhile.” Misa didn’t really believe him, but she didn’t want to argue about it. “Do you have any ideas for what you’d like me to do?”

She shook her head. It was too different from what she did on her own, having another person involved, and asking for anything seemed too bold, anyway.

“Okay, then I’m going to give you choices, and all you have to do is pick one.”

It was strange, having L be so direct and confident about this, like he’d planned it all out. It still felt too uncomfortable for Misa, being the center of attention like this. No one had wanted to do anything like this for her before. No one had even asked.

But L asked, and kept asking. Fingers, or no fingers? Softer or harder? Faster or slower? And whatever Misa said, that was what he did. If she didn’t know, he let her try both. Eventually, she started asking for what she wanted before he gave her the options. His mouth and his hands were so warm on her that she could barely tell which was which. She had long since stopped trying to cover herself and moved her hands to his head instead, where they twisted almost unconsciously in his soft black hair, as he did for her what no one else had ever done, because no one else had made the effort to ask what she wanted and listen to the answer.

When Misa made noise again, it wasn’t forced and it wasn’t performative. She was loud and needy and finally, gloriously selfish, and she ground her hips up against him and clutched at his head and her thighs trembled and clenched around him as she rode out the wave. And the whole time, he kept licking her through it, until, laughing and shaking from over-sensitivity, she said, “Okay, okay!” and pushed his head away.

L crawled up the bed to lay alongside her, wiping his wet mouth on his sleeve. She would have been embarrassed by that, normally, but she was too busy staring at the ceiling in thoughtless, floaty bliss. But she managed to put her thoughts back together enough to turn to face him and ask, “What do you want to do now? We could…” She started to run her hand down his body, but he stopped her.

“There’s time for that later, Misa. Tonight was just for you.”

Misa pouted. “What? That’s no fair! I don’t even get to return the favor?”

That brought a genuine smile out of L. He always seemed a little surprised by her desire to please him. But, still, he shook his head. “Now Misa understands how she made me feel.”

“Point taken.” Misa had to admit he’d caught her there. She hadn’t really considered that he might actually be bothered by her refusal to let him pleasure her before. She’d only really expected him to think of his own pleasure, like every other guy she’d known. She withdrew her hand from where he’d stopped it and brought it up to stroke his cheek instead. “Will you at least stay with me tonight?”

“Now, that,” L responded, bringing his own hand to rest on top of hers, “is a request I can fulfill.”

A few hours later, L was almost regretting his promise. He didn’t mind sharing a bed, but he preferred to sleep in his own room whenever possible. But he had told Misa that he would stay, and so he would.

She had long since fallen asleep, but, as it did many nights, sleep eluded him. Eventually, he’d gotten too uncomfortable with having to lay down and had reverted to crouching on top of the blankets in his usual position. Misa was sleeping so soundly that she didn’t mind that they weren’t cuddling anymore.

Crouched there in the dark, watching Misa’s peaceful face, L felt somehow grotesque, almost like a gargoyle. While she was strange in her own way, Misa’s outer appearance was very conventionally beautiful, and she had that sort of cheerful, wholesome idol image. Being with her made him feel even stranger and more self-conscious than he usually was. There she was, sleeping like an angel, with this odd man with huge eyes crouched beside her in the dark, staring down at her. Sometimes, he struggled to understand how she could be attracted to him at all.

Maybe it was just because she was alone. Well, he would find out soon enough. L had been given a deadline of sorts: in nine days, Misa’s film shoot would begin and she would re-enter the outside world. And, yeah, maybe things wouldn’t change, but that wasn’t what his gut was telling him. On some level, maybe that of instinct, he believed that if he didn’t get through to her before she left the hotel, even for a short amount of time, she would be lost to him for good.

Nine days. That was how long L had to somehow win Misa’s loyalty, to bring her over to his side and away from Light’s. He didn’t expect it to work, but he would still give it everything that he had. He would take every opportunity to be alone with her, to spend time together, to strengthen their relationship. Light couldn’t be allowed into the headquarters during this time. He needed to keep Misa away from any ties to her past if he wanted to have any chance at all.

During that time, he would also need to hide their relationship from the men of the task force, in case they might try to interfere. In general, he should minimize any outside influences on his relationship with Misa, to give himself an optimal chance of making progress. He couldn’t expect to keep it a secret forever, but for this short time period, he thought it should be possible.

And, more selfishly, he would use these nine days to develop his intimate relationship with Misa, because it was probably his last chance. He knew that he would never be able to keep her. Even if she somehow changed sides, even if they took down Kira, even if she avoided being arrested as the second Kira, she would still leave. Once her name was clear and she was safe from Light, she would go back out into the bright, shining world where she belonged. She would have a normal life. And, hopefully, she would find a lover who could make her happy, who would be better to her than either Light or L could ever be.

When that happened, L would be alone. He would return to the shadows, hiding behind his computer screen. He and Watari would leave Japan for his next case, and he would never see Misa Amane again. But L had always been alone, really. So he would enjoy this temporary reprieve from his isolation for what it was, and then, when the time came, he would let her go.

Chapter Text

Misa’s movie was scheduled to begin filming in just over one week. Until then, she was still forbidden from leaving the building, but her perspective was totally changed. Now that she knew that she would be allowed to go back to work soon, she suddenly didn’t mind her situation so much, and she felt more secure in her interactions with L now that she knew he at least cared enough to take her complaints seriously.

With her film shoot to look forward to, and to reassure her that she wouldn’t be hidden away from the world forever, being at the hotel became almost fun. She didn’t feel trapped anymore, and it was really quite luxurious, especially L’s suite. She liked to play pretend, to make the days more exciting. In her mind, she would picture herself as mistress to the great detective L, his “kept woman,” as sexist as that phrasing was. Rather than being his suspect or prisoner, she pretended that he was so crazy about her that he couldn’t stand to leave her behind, that he would fly her around the world to join him on his cases. She had to stay in the hotel for her own safety, because his job was very dangerous, but he would take her to exotic locations and work off all his stress from his cases in bed with her.

Misa’s head was a much more romantic place to be than reality. Since she knew it wouldn’t last forever, she suddenly was able to enjoy being able to be lazy all day and live in a sort of cocoon where, at least in the evenings, no one but Misa and L existed. She spent less and less time with the task force, letting L keep her up half the nights and sleeping in his bed until the afternoon. (Which, incidentally, made it easier for them to hide their relationship, since L couldn’t stare at her like a weirdo if she wasn’t in the room.) It was a mystery to her how L managed on the minimal amount of sleep he got.

L, on the other hand, seemed to have changed in a different direction than she had. It was hard to put her finger on it, but he seemed somehow less secure of their relationship, more demanding of her attention. He didn’t even try to pretend that he was going to work late in the evenings. He was all over her basically any time that the members of the task force weren’t around. (Sometimes, even when they were—like the memorable incident where he finger-fucked her to orgasm in the pantry while Aizawa and Mogi talked in the kitchen just a few feet from the door, swallowing all of her sounds into his mouth. She had to wait there for almost an hour after he left before she was able to sneak back to her room.)

She didn’t mind all the attention, and quickly took to sleeping in his room every night. But there was a manic, almost desperate quality to his mood, as though he felt he had to get as much of her as possible before her filming began. He never brought up the investigation with her, but she could tell it was on his mind. Often, she would catch him looking at her with the most frustrated, intense expressions. The weight of his regard frequently overwhelmed her.

Misa generally didn’t mind. All she had ever wanted was for someone to notice her, to want her, and she had gotten that and more. But she found herself constantly wanting to ask L things like, “Why do you keep clinging to me like I’m going to disappear?” or “Why do you look so sad all the time?” It wasn’t like her leaving the building for a few hours was going to change anything, but L’s palpable anxiety about it was getting to her.

She never asked any of those questions. She didn’t want to be the first one to bring it up. Still, in general, she was happy to indulge him.

Misa and L still watched movies together, but they paid a lot less attention than before. On average, they probably made it no further than thirty minutes into any film before at least one article of clothing was removed. So it was tonight: allegedly, the two of them were watching Princess Mononoke, but Misa was already topless with L above her, his mouth on one breast, his hand on the other, and his erection pressing against her thigh through his jeans. He rocked gently against her as she moaned under his touch.

So, of course, Watari chose that exact moment to knock on Misa’s door.

“Fuck,” Misa said, jumping slightly, and L froze, raising his head to stare at the door.

“Come in!” he called out, as if on reflex, and Misa scrambled to cover herself with a blanket, glaring at him. He couldn’t have given me time to put on a shirt?!

L drew himself up to crouch on the bed, facing the door, looking completely unconcerned with their compromising position as Watari entered the room. Misa, meanwhile, was forced to hide behind him to preserve her modesty. Well, she could have stayed under the blankets, but she felt more comfortable using L as a shield. She grabbed both of his shoulders from behind, pressing her breasts against his back and peeking out at Watari, face half-hidden in L’s hair, clinging to him as much as a show of blatant possessiveness as out of desire to hide her nudity.

Watari, as always, looked completely unruffled, but she could tell he was judging her. Feeling childish, she stuck her tongue out at him from behind L’s back and clung on tighter. Watari didn’t even blink. He was carrying a cell phone, which he presented calmly to L. “Light Yagami is on the line,” he explained. “He called and asked for you, so I put him on hold. Would you like to take the call, or should I tell him you are unavailable again?”

Just the mention of her ex-boyfriend had Misa’s heart racing. He had disappeared from her life so completely that for him to call now felt almost invasive, like he was forcing his way back into her mind. Until now, she had been able to almost pretend he didn’t exist. But, of course, he didn’t even know or care that she was present. He only wanted to speak to L.

L paused a moment, then sighed. “I suppose I’ll take the call.” He snatched the phone from Watari’s hands, holding it pinched between his thumb and forefinger, and Watari nodded, leaving the room without another word. Misa glared at his receding back.

“I’m going to go back to my room to take this call in private,” L said, turning to face her. She supposed she should have expected that, since she was still a suspect in the investigation, but she was still angry at being excluded, so she nodded without saying anything. She hoped L would ask what was wrong, but he simply walked out, leaving her to stew. As the door swung shut, she saw him raise the phone gingerly to his ear and heard him say, “Hello, Light,” and then it closed and he was gone.

Misa considered following him to eavesdrop, but Watari would probably catch her, or see her on the security cameras and alert L. So she just threw her shirt back on and crossed her arms over her chest, reclining on the bed to wait.

“Hello, Light,” L said, pulling the door to the hallway closed behind him.

“I’ve been trying to contact you for weeks now, you know.” Light already sounded annoyed, and the conversation had barely even begun. L suppressed a sigh, half wishing he had ignored this call, too. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were avoiding me.”

“Why would I avoid speaking to Light? He is my friend, after all,” L said slowly, making his way down the hallway to his room.

Friend, of course, was a strong term. L admired Light’s intelligence, but had no real affection for the boy, seeing as he had already been certain Light was Kira since they met. What they called “friendship” was only a thin veneer over a deep rivalry and suspicion. He knew that Light wouldn’t hesitate to kill him if given the chance, and he was equally ready to put Light behind bars or send him to his execution, even if he enjoyed matching wits with him.

With that in mind, L’s only true friend was probably Misa Amane. Which was slightly ironic, given that she was as guilty as Light was. However, almost every interaction he’d had with Misa had been after she lost her memories of acting as Kira, which made it possible for him to form a genuine affection for the girl, even if he knew it wasn’t smart. He had been given the chance to get to know the girl who had existed before she became a killer.

On the other hand, if Light had ever been innocent and genuine, that version of him was buried so deep under Kira that L had never had the chance to meet him. When he met with Light, he saw only Kira. In some sense, that actually made him safer than Misa: L was always aware that he couldn’t let down his guard around Light, whereas Misa had a genuine vulnerability to her that made her too easy to underestimate. He didn’t trust either of them, but he wanted to trust Misa, and that alone made her dangerous.

“Ryuuzaki?”

As he reached his door, L realized he had completely tuned out Light’s smooth voice in favor of his own thoughts. Instead of trying to hide it, he just said, “Oh, sorry, I wasn’t listening to you at all.”

Light rarely showed uncalculated emotion, but when he did, it tended to be anger. And he was unfailingly polite, adhering to social norms almost religiously. So L tended to play up his rudeness around Light in order to agitate him and push him into possibly slipping up. Therefore, his sharp, annoyed huff into the phone brought a small smile to L’s lips.

“You’re unbelievable, Ryuuzaki. Ever since you arrested Misa, you’ve been shutting me out of this investigation. My father won’t even tell me what’s going on; he just says to ask you. If I’m still a suspect, don’t I have a right to know?” As usual, Light’s voice was full of conviction. He really was an excellent orator.

“Technically, Light, most investigations don’t involve their suspects at all. Your involvement in the Kira case thus far has been quite unusual.”

That was the first mention of Misa in the conversation, and L had changed the subject. He shouldn’t show an interest in talking about her, since he hoped to hide from Light the fact that she was involved in his plans at all. The question was, would Light bring her up again, or let it slide? What would Kira do? It seemed like Light’s actions had been designed to make L believe that he was completely finished with Misa, so maybe he would avoid the topic in order to give the impression that he didn’t care about her one way or the other. On the other hand, if she really had been the second Kira, Light would probably be curious, and maybe even nervous, about what she had been up to since he left. After all, he must know that she hadn’t been released yet, since she hadn’t been seen in public since her arrest.

L also suspected that Light knew that he had resumed surveillance of him, using Misa’s arrest and the suspicion it threw on Light to convince the rest of the task force, but he was more certain that Light wouldn’t bring that up. He had to keep playing the game, after all.

Briefly, making sure to continue listening, L went over his goals for the conversation. He didn’t expect to get any information out of Light or to trick him into slipping up. Light was too smart for that. What he needed to do was to decrease the chances that Light would interfere with his progress with Misa, primarily within the next week, but also, hopefully, after she began her film shoot. He couldn’t bring Misa up himself, of course, because if L showed any signs that she was important to him or the investigation, that would only make Light more likely to meddle. He just needed to keep Light satisfied for the time being so that he wouldn’t try something drastic like showing up unannounced.

“Still, you can understand why I am frustrated, can’t you? I felt like I was really helping with the investigation, like when I helped write the letter to the second Kira, and now I’m just left with no information or contact at all.”

L leaned against his bed, touching his thumb to his lip thoughtfully. “I understand your frustration, Light. All that I can say is, right now, the drawbacks to having one of our suspects being directly involved in the investigation would outweigh the benefits of your assistance, regardless of your gift for detective work.” Is it too transparent that I’m appealing to his ego? Probably not. Someone who thinks as highly of himself as Light probably accepts compliments from others automatically.

Light paused, then said, “I understand. However, it is very frustrating. I want to catch Kira as badly as you do, especially after the problems he has caused my father. I only want to be of service to your investigation.”

Sure you do, L thought grimly. Well, he should probably give Light a bit of hope, to keep him dangling on the hook. Plus, he may decide to bring him closer again in the future. Currently, he had to choose between getting close to Light or to Misa, and the latter seemed a more promising path to take. But that could change. At the same time, he didn’t want to give Light the impression that he was planning something for the near future, because then he might try to interfere.

“Yes, I appreciate that. I am sure that, at some point soon, your help may be required. In the meantime, I will try to keep in more regular contact with Light. After all, I wouldn’t want to abandon my friend.” Was he playing up the friend angle too much? Hopefully not.

He heard Light sigh into the phone and wondered if he was going to keep pushing. Instead, he apparently decided to take a new angle. “Well, in that case, would you consider coming back to campus? You’ve missed a lot of classes, you know, and I’m bored without you. Just because I can’t come to headquarters doesn’t mean that we can’t still play a game of tennis sometime.”

L found himself having to resist the absurd, counterproductive urge to tell Light, ‘Sorry, I’m too busy having a lot of incredible sex with your ex-girlfriend.’ He frowned in annoyance at himself, glad that he didn’t have to control his facial expressions while on the phone. The whole point of this conversation was to keep Light’s attention away from Misa. “That sounds nice, but I have been rather busy. I’ll see if I can find the time in the next few weeks.” He kept his tone polite, but vague enough to convey that he wasn’t interested in making any solid plans.

Light sighed. “Busy trying to get information out of Misa? I assume you still suspect her, or she would have been released already.” There it is. He was trying too hard to sound casual.

L would entertain the topic at least enough to avoid suspicion, and, hopefully, to satisfy Light’s curiosity. “The evidence on which we took her into custody is strong enough that we decided to hold her for longer, but unfortunately, she hasn’t done anything suspicious since you last saw her. Still, I feel there is something more to the situation, so I plan to keep her awhile longer, though we’ve spoken of relaxing her confinement to some extent so that she can work.”

He didn’t want Light to see it as strange or contradictory if he knew about her film shoot, but he also didn’t want to mention the specifics, in case it put any ideas in Light’s head about trying to contact her. However, it turned out that he needn’t have bothered.

“Yes,” Light said, still with that sound of fake casualness. “I heard something about her taking part in a film soon. It made me wonder if she managed to annoy you to the point of letting her out.”

What was Light looking for? Was he trying to understand the extent of Misa’s contact with the task force? “She hasn’t had the chance, to be honest,” L lied, adopting a bored tone of voice. “She’s confined to her room the vast majority of the time. We just thought it was for the best that she make some appearances in public sooner or later, since her absence has been conspicuous.”

Light hummed into the phone. “Well, I’m glad you’ve managed to keep her from interfering. Whether she was Kira or not, it’s probably best to keep her out of the way. Trust me, Misa is more trouble than she’s worth.”

If L wasn’t mistaken, he suspected that Light’s aim was to communicate something like, ‘This is between the two of us, so leave Misa out of it.’ He had suspected that Light’s goal in breaking up with Misa had been to get her out of the way, to limit her ability to interfere in his actions as Kira after she had proven to be unpredictable and sloppy. It was best that he believe that L shared the same goal, that L seem dismissive of and uninterested in doing anything with Misa beyond keeping her confined where Light couldn’t use her against him.

So, though he clenched his free hand into a fist at his side, L made a noise of agreement. “Yes, I’m sure that she caused Kira all sorts of trouble. Luckily, I’ve been smart enough to keep her out of the way.” Unlike you, he meant to imply. It was always best to seem arrogant when speaking with Light. “As long as we supply her with magazines and TV dramas, we barely notice she’s there anymore.”

“I’m not Kira, you know,” Light said, though it sounded more perfunctory than sincere.

“Of course you aren’t.”

When they hung up, L felt exhausted. Conversations with Light always felt almost physically draining, having to constantly think two steps ahead of the other. He was never quite sure if he had achieved his goals, especially over the phone, where he couldn’t see Light’s reactions. But he thought that he had managed to convey the desired message: ‘You should stay away, but things are moving slowly here and we don’t have any big plans you should be worried about.’

But what, he wondered, dropping into a crouch on top of his armchair, was that stupid urge he had to brag about his relationship with Misa?

Part of it, L thought, was that he felt like he had some advantage. He was getting close to Misa, and he had a physical relationship with her that surpassed her experiences with Light. Some childish part of himself, who had grown used to being an outsider, wanted to rub it in Light’s face, to say, “Look what I have that you don’t.” He wanted to make Light regret letting Misa fall into L’s hands, to realize that he had lost something that might come back to haunt him.

But that would contradict L’s goals. Turning Misa against Kira was still a long-shot, and it would be most effective if Light didn’t know it was coming. He couldn’t blindside Light if he was too busy bragging about his victory before he had even won. It was best to seem totally uninterested in Misa as a topic, to give the impression he had tossed her in a vault and forgotten about her.

He was also, he realized, almost angry about having to talk about Misa with Light. He wasn’t angry out of some misplaced machismo or possessiveness. He didn’t care that Misa had a past before him, or that she’d had a relationship with Light.

What made him angry was being reminded of the precariousness of their situation. Being reminded of his suspicion that Light could, if he chose, reverse whatever he had done to Misa while she was in that cell. He could easily erase the Misa that L cared about and destroy whatever relationship was growing between the two of them. And, if he did so, he wouldn’t care at all. He wouldn’t be doing it because he wanted to be with Misa, but because he viewed her as a pawn, because L’s feelings for her meant nothing to him. It made L feel like his relationship with Misa would end up just being another toy for Light to play with.

Light saw himself as a god. L was inclined to disagree, but he felt almost as helpless as a human before the force of god, to think that all of his progress with Misa could be undone in an instant if Light wanted to do so. And if he made that choice, it would mean everything to L, and nothing to Light.

By the time L came back, letting himself into her room without knocking, Misa was in an awful mood, but not for the reasons one might expect. Being reminded of Light was one thing, but what really got to her was watching L leave the room to talk to him. The conversation was private between them, and Misa was shut out. Like they had to talk about important things, and she wasn’t smart enough to be included.

In L’s mind, Light was Kira, and this whole thing was like some big chess game between the two of them. Misa wasn’t even a player, couldn’t be anything more than a piece on the board. Light was smarter than her, maybe as smart as L. He could challenge L, could hold his interest. Compared to him, what could she offer L, other than her body? She felt so small, all of a sudden. Since they broke up, Light hadn’t been around, so she’d had L’s undivided attention. She felt like they were on the same team. But if Light started showing up again, would he replace her in L’s list of priorities?

Of course, she didn’t say this to L. When he commented that she seemed upset, her only response was a curt, “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

L gave her a long, skeptical look before sitting down on the bed next to her. “I don’t believe that’s true,” he said, and even in her bad mood, she couldn’t help but be happy that he had read her so easily, that he cared enough to notice.

“What did he want?” Misa asked quietly, wrapping her arms around herself.

“He was offering to come back to headquarters and help with the investigation,” L said, confirming her suspicions, and she felt her heart sink.

That’s that, then, she thought, already mentally preparing herself for it. She would have to sit there and watch as Light, the Light who had said she was “beneath him,” stole L’s time from her. They would shut Misa out, because she was dumb and girly and frivolous, and go back to playing their game on a level she would never be able to reach. They would work together every day and she wouldn’t even be able to hang out with the task force without being forced to see Light. Light would talk about her to L like she wasn’t even there, and L would let him, and she would be alone. Maybe they would even work late, stealing the time L usually spent alone with her. After all, what was more important, watching cartoons with Misa or trying to catch Kira? She should have known this wouldn’t last.

Misa realized, with a start, that L was still talking. “I told him that wouldn’t be necessary yet, but that I may reconsider in the future.”

She stared at him as if he had grown a second head. “Why?” she blurted out, before she had a chance to stop herself.

L looked like he was considering his words carefully, enough so that she wondered if he would really give her an honest answer. “There are… disadvantages to having my main suspect so close to the investigation,” he finally said, which was not very specific. “And I thought his presence might be upsetting to you.”

Misa felt relieved, but also suspicious. She didn’t believe that L would do something just to spare her feelings if it wasn’t already in line with what he wanted to do for the investigation. Still, she couldn’t stop the hope that began to fill her chest. “You’d rather have me around than Light, then?” she asked, quietly, though she knew that wasn’t the point.

There was a long silence before L responded. When he spoke, his words were slow and hesitant. “I believed Misa’s bad mood was due to the reminder of her breakup with Light,” he mused. “But… is Misa jealous of my friendship with Light?”

“No, shut up!” she immediately retorted, turning red, and he raised his eyebrows at her. She looked down at the bed. “Maybe a little,” she admitted. “I’m not smart like Light is. I’m sure he’s more interesting to you than I am.” L frowned. “And you two have this whole Kira thing connecting you. That’s something I’m not part of, no matter what you believe.”

She still felt weird, talking with L as though Light really was Kira, but she knew that was what L believed, so it was easier to speak as though she accepted it. That way, they wouldn’t have to argue. And, as she got to know L better, she could see that it made sense. From his perspective, she could see why he thought Light was Kira. The only thing stopping her from accepting that, other than wishful thinking, was that she didn’t believe she could have dated Kira without ever knowing it.

“You could be,” he said, his eyes suddenly more awake and intent than they had been before. “You could work with me, Misa, and help me stop him.”

Misa’s eyes widened. She didn’t know what to say to that. L wanted her to help fight Kira? When she wasn’t even sure she didn’t want Kira to win? Even if she wanted to, what could she even do? She didn’t answer, staring at him like a deer in the headlights, and L sighed.

“You’re wondering who I would prefer to spend time with, between Misa and Light?” he asked, thankfully dropping the subject. “I would think I’ve already made my answer clear.”

She nodded, unable to meet his eyes. “I know you’re not gay or anything, but I don’t want my only advantage over Light to be that I’m sleeping with you,” she said quietly. “When you two are together, I feel invisible.”

“Misa shouldn’t make assumptions,” L said, and she stared at him in shock until he explained. “I could probably be attracted to men as well, in theory. I don’t see much reason to prefer one gender over the other.”

What? Misa’s voice wouldn’t work for a second there, she was so surprised. Her first thought, stupid as it was, was, Does this mean I have to be jealous of everyone now? She tried to shake it off. None of the men of the task force were exactly prime bachelors, anyway. But… “What about Light, then?” she demanded, feeling even more insecure than she had a minute ago. “Does that mean that you could like Light the way you like Misa?”

If that was true, then she had no advantage at all. Light was as attractive as her, if not more so. He was smarter and more interesting than her. If L could sleep with her, despite believing she was the second Kira, there was no reason he couldn’t sleep with Light, too. It was like they were made for each other, to challenge each other. And Misa? Like Light had said, she was beneath them.

L leaned forward and look one of her hands in both of his, turning it over to trace the lines of her palm as he spoke. “I don’t like anyone the way I like Misa.”

His words were so simple and blunt, and his tone wasn’t romantic at all, but just that confession made her face break out in a smile. What he said next, though, erased all that.

“Isn’t this hypocritical of Misa?” he wondered aloud, and she pulled her hand away from him sharply. “I’m not the one who dated Light, after all. Misa wants me to be on her side, and not his, but won’t choose my side over Kira’s.” She shifted uncomfortably on the bed as he caught her eyes. “You still love him,” he finished, and he didn’t make it sound like a question.

Misa felt a lump in her throat. It was the first time she could remember since they became involved that L had directly addressed the subject of her feelings for Light, and it made her feel confused and sad. Did she love Light, even after everything that had happened? L seemed to take it for granted that she did, but she didn’t even know her own feelings.

She did know that, right now, some part of her hated Light for the way he had treated her. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean that she couldn’t still love him. The feelings weren’t mutually exclusive.

On some level, she wondered why she cared so much about Light. They had been boyfriend and girlfriend for all of three days before L took her into custody, and only a few days more before Light broke her heart. They had only shared a single kiss. It wasn’t much of a relationship to begin with. She couldn’t even remember why they started dating in the first place. L was more real to her, now, than Light, who felt more like a shadow of a memory than anything.

But some part of her held on. There were feelings inside of her that she couldn’t explain. Feelings that told her that Light was important somehow, that he was supposed to be the center of her life, even if she could no longer remember what was so important about him in the first place. She felt like a puzzle with a piece missing, and without the ability to see the full picture, she couldn’t connect what she felt with what she knew. She couldn’t understand herself because she wasn’t a whole person, she realized. In some way that she didn’t quite understand, she was fragmented, left with shreds of memories and feelings that didn’t connect.

At her silence, L’s face seemed to grow distant, resigned in a way that made her heart hurt for him. Maybe he was right: she was a hypocrite. She wanted him to choose her over everyone else, but she couldn’t promise him the same thing, not when every thought of Light, and of Kira, seemed to draw her deeper into a labyrinth in her mind that she didn’t know how to escape.

Misa couldn’t bring herself to answer him, to tell him what he wanted to hear, or else to hurt him even more. Instead, she swung her leg over his, straddling him, and pulled him into a rough kiss, hoping to banish the thoughts from her mind, or maybe from his. L seemed uncertain, hesitant to kiss her back, but she didn’t give him a chance to continue the conversation. She pulled his shirt over his head and pushed him insistently onto his back, and he let himself be manipulated.

She kissed her way down his body, unbuttoning his pants as she went, and though part of him still seemed far away, he was hard by the time she reached her target. She swallowed him down at once, and she knew that it was working because he began to moan, hands twisting in her hair.

This time, Misa didn’t let L take charge. She held his hips down and sucked him slowly, and every time he got close, she stopped, pulling away. Even when he started to beg, to writhe under her, hips frantically pushing up against her hands, she didn’t relent. She kept teasing him, refusing to give him the completion that he wanted, until he was so far beyond coherent speech and thought that she knew Light was gone from his mind, that only she remained. Only her… and her mouth, her tongue, her throat, all of which he begged her for. Then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, she took him all the way down, nose pressed against his soft patch of hair, and stayed there, swallowing as he cried out and bucked and fell to pieces underneath her, his whole body arching under her hands.

For just that moment, she was sure that there was no sign of Light, or Kira, left in the room. There was only Misa and L. And in that moment, she wished, more than anything, that things could stay that way.

Chapter Text

After that, L went back to not bringing up Light or the case with Misa again, at least for awhile. She was grateful for that, especially for the fact that he hadn’t pushed her on the “You could help me stop him” idea. Misa liked L, but that didn’t necessarily mean that she wanted to help him bring Kira down.

Was Light really Kira? Misa didn’t know how she could have dated him without knowing that, or how she could have forgotten it if she had somehow known. But she was easily influenced by the people closest to her, and right now, that spot was filled by L. He seemed to accept the premise that Light was Kira so unquestioningly that she found herself accepting it when she wasn’t paying attention.

Misa wanted to talk to someone about it, but she didn’t want that person to be L. She felt too uncomfortable, trying to reconcile her (past? current?) feelings for Light, her present relationship with L, her closeness with the task force, and her admiration and gratitude for Kira. So, without many other options to choose from, she went to Matsuda instead, pulling him aside one day, and asked him if he could explain why L was so certain that Light was Kira.

Matsuda seemed happy to talk to her, but when she told him what she wanted, he hesitated, rubbing his head uncertainly. “Shouldn’t you be asking Ryuuzaki about this instead?” he asked.

“I guess I wanted a second opinion,” she explained. “He’s so set on the idea, so I want to know what someone other than him thinks about it.”

Matsuda frowned. “Well, I guess he did give us permission to talk to you about the case if you asked.” He still seemed uncomfortable, but he began to explain: how L had determined that Kira was a student in the Kanto region. The information leaks from the NPA, and how L had determined that Kira might be a family member of someone on the case. The bus jacking, followed by the deaths of the twelve FBI agents, particularly Raye Penber, and Naomi Misora’s disappearance.

As Matsuda talked, Misa had a feeling similar to the first time she had traveled via airplane. Like she was being lifted out of the details on the ground, seeing the scene from above for the first time, able to see patterns that were invisible when she was in the middle of it all. From this vantage point, it was suddenly easy to see the patterns that L had put together, the ones that had led him straight to Light. In comparison, her point of view, much closer to the situation, obscured them.

After that, Matsuda trailed off into silence, looking even more uncomfortable. Misa paused, taking in everything he had said, and then decided to prompt him. She was pretty sure that she knew why he had gone quiet. “What about the second Kira?” she asked, leaning forward.

Though he wouldn’t quite meet her eyes, Matsuda continued, telling her about the VHS tapes and the pattern of killing. For some reason, she didn’t remember this as well. She had paid such close attention to Kira when he first became known, but she couldn’t remember following the second Kira’s actions in the news in the same way. Maybe she had just lost interest?

Matsuda was halfway through explaining about the journal page that had been sent when he paused. “Didn’t you say that you first met Light in Aoyama back in May?”

To Misa, this comment came out of left-field. She couldn’t understand why it would be relevant to the conversation. But, still, she decided to play along. “Well, yes, kind of. Why?”

He gave her a strange look before answering. “It was one of the dates and locations mentioned in the second Kira’s journal. I was with Light that day. We went to Aoyama together, and we didn’t split up the whole time. But I don’t remember seeing you there.”

Finally understanding his confusion, Misa laughed, glad for such an easy question. “Oh, that’s because I didn’t talk to him. I just saw him on the street and fell for him, but he was with such a big group, so I waited until later to look him up and introduce myself.”

“Oh!” Matsuda smiled, as if relieved that she had an explanation for it. But then, after a moment, he frowned. “If you just saw him on the street, how did you contact him? How did you know his name?”

Misa opened her mouth to answer him, confident that she could explain, but no words came out. In that moment, she felt like, if her brain was a computer, the screen had just froze. “I—”

Matsuda’s frown deepened as he looked at her with growing concern. She continued to flounder. Every time she thought that she had a grasp on the answer, it slipped through her fingers again. Misa stared down at her own hands as if she might find the answer there. Finally, she thought of something to say. “I just did. It was like… it was like fate, you know? Like we were meant to be. I just knew.”

She doubted this explanation would convince Matsuda when she couldn’t even convince herself, but she didn’t know what else to say. Matsuda patted her awkwardly on the shoulder, like he was trying to cheer her up, but his face was still troubled. She couldn’t stand him looking at her like that.

All of a sudden, Misa wanted to get away from him. She knew she had initiated the conversation, but she somehow felt angry at him for forcing her to think about that day, for not allowing her to keep believing things were perfectly normal. “Thanks for answering my questions,” she said hastily, avoiding his eyes as she got to her feet.

She retreated to the couch and sat down next to L, hoping that his presence would deter Matsuda from asking her anything else. Though the room had been pretty quiet for awhile, so he might have already overheard their full conversation. She couldn’t really tell if he was actually going over surveillance footage on his laptop or if he was just letting the video play while he eavesdropped.

Misa didn’t want to think anymore, but her thoughts kept racing, heedless of her wishes. It must have shown in her face, because L turned away from his work long enough to give her a strange, searching look. She examined her nails and pretended not to notice.

As the days went on, the two of them lost what small amount of caution they had left when it came to keeping their relationship hidden. Misa was finding that she had more of a wild streak than she might have expected, and L couldn’t seem to deny her anything. With so much time to herself during the days, Misa found herself getting quite creative with it. It was fun, finding new ways to surprise L, to push him to the point of forgetting to be careful.

(Plus, it was a nice distraction from all the things she was doing her best to avoid thinking about—damn Matsuda!)

One evening, for example, after the men had left but before L had finished up his work, Misa made her way out to the main room in a tank top, thigh-high stockings and a pleated skirt reminiscent of school uniforms. When she tried to sit on his lap, he gave only the most token of protests before lowering his legs down to make room.

“Don’t mind me,” Misa insisted as she made herself comfortable with her back against L’s chest. “You can keep working, I’ll just watch.”

L, who knew Misa better at this point, gave her a skeptical look, but he wrapped one arm around her waist and settled his shoulder on her chin as he continued scrolling through some reports on the computer screen.

Misa waited a few minutes, letting herself enjoy the feeling of his warm body wrapped around her back, before she started “moving around to get comfortable,” which was, of course, a blatantly obvious excuse to rub her ass around in his lap.

L’s scrolling slowly came to a stop. “Misa,” he said, in a tone that was probably meant to sound scolding but only came across as needy and breathless. She could feel him rising beneath her already. She thought, with no small amount of satisfaction, that he had an almost Pavlovian response to her body at this point.

“Maybe you should take a break,” Misa said, trying to sound innocently concerned. “If putting your legs down like this already decreased your brainpower, I can’t imagine what this,” (as she ground down against his erection) “must be doing to you. I bet even I’m smarter than you at this point.” In response, L nipped lightly at her neck, making her squeak a little in surprise even as she laughed at him.

“This really is pushing it, even for you,” L said, though his own actions undermined his words: at the same time as he chastised her, his hand was already making its way up her thigh and under her skirt. “Watari could walk in on us. This room is under—” He broke off, for a second, letting out a little huff of surprise as his fingers got high enough for him to realize she wasn’t wearing underwear. Misa squirmed a little under his touch, which only made him harden underneath her. “You’re shameless,” he murmured, lips right against her neck, slipping two fingers inside of her. “There are surveillance cameras in here too, you know.”

“Hmmm.” For a moment, it seemed that Misa wasn’t going to respond, as she just hummed and spread her legs a little wider, to give him more space to touch her. She clenched around his fingers, already wanting more. But then she added, “Pull up the camera feed.”

L inhaled sharply, but he did as he was told. Always so eager to please, Misa thought, grinning a little. A window opened on the computer, showing a view of L’s chair from behind. She could see his shoulders and messy black hair, and the back of her head as well. Her body, and his hand up her skirt, were hidden by his frame, though the movement of his shoulders and head, as well as the fact that she was sitting on his lap, hinted that the scene might not be entirely innocent.

“This way, we can make sure nothing too lewd is caught on camera,” Misa explained, as though that was her real motivation. “Watch.”

She raised herself from L’s lap just enough to undo the fly of his jeans. When she slipped her hand into his boxers, gently taking his cock in hand and freeing it from his pants, L let out a shaky breath, but he kept his eyes on the screen. Lining him up, Misa slowly sank down on him, taking him inside of her. Both of them watched as the Misa in the video returned to her position on his lap, facing away from him, his back and her skirt hiding from view the point at which he penetrated her.

Bracing herself against the footrest of the chair, Misa began to slowly move, keeping her hips to a rocking motion rather than pulling away too far. When she rolled her hips, sliding up and down his cock, L let out a small “Ah!” and she paused.

“You have to be quiet,” she scolded. “We’re under surveillance, remember?” L nodded. “Look,” she said, again. “Watch.” She began to move once more. In his efforts to keep quiet, L lowered his mouth to her neck and shoulder, kissing and sucking gently, and she tipped her head to the side to give him easier access.

In the video, their activities were quite obvious already, between the way Misa’s head and shoulders rose and fell as she rocked on his lap and the way L’s head was tucked against her neck, but there was still nothing explicit showing. However, Misa raised one foot and pushed against the desk, turning their chair enough that one of her bare thighs, trembling with effort, came into view, and they both had to turn their heads a little to still see the screen. She waited to see if L would object, but he only whimpered into her neck.

“Good,” she said, and took his hand in hers. She raised it to her bare knee, the one in view on the screen. “Watch our hands,” she told him, and he obeyed as she drew his hand up her thigh again, tracing lightly over her skin, showing him where to touch. They both watched the video feed as his fingers disappeared from view under the fabric of her skirt.

Following her lead, L’s fingers ran firm circles over Misa’s clit as she rolled her hips against him. Since the night they celebrated her new film, she had gotten much more comfortable asking him to touch her, and he had quickly learned what she liked. Any time he got too distracted by what they were doing, or turned his face too far into her neck, Misa would stop, drawing a low whine from his throat, and direct his eyes back to the computer. “Keep watching,” she insisted, each time. The more he touched her, the further open her legs fell, and her skirt was beginning to drift upward on her thigh, threatening to expose just a little too much.

On the other side, L slipped his free hand up her shirt to cup her breast, and she let out a shaky sigh. That side of their bodies was hidden from the camera, but the movement caused the fabric of her shirt to ride up a little, exposing the skin of her midriff on screen. At the same time, as she braced her hands on the chair to get enough leverage to move faster, her skirt was pushed up between their bodies, uncovering most of her ass. The surveillance footage was rapidly moving from suggestive to obscene, and that only seemed to turn L on more, from the sound of his choked off moans and gasps in her ear.

Finally, with a low growl, L seemed to reach the limits of his endurance and pushed Misa roughly to her feet, manhandling her body until she stood facing away from him with her legs slightly apart, bent over forwards, hands on the desk in front of them, face just in front of the screen. He impatiently kicked at his empty chair, sending it rolling backwards and away from them, and flipped her skirt up entirely, pushing back into her from behind. Misa whined at the feeling of his cock stretching her open again, at the sight of it on camera. His clothes were all still on, but her full bare leg was on view, from the top of her ass down to her toes, and as L started to thrust, reaching back around to continue rubbing her clit, he muttered, “Watch yourself.” Even half gone with pleasure, Misa caught the double-meaning in his words.

The force of his thrusts lifted Misa’s feet from the floor, but L easily supported her, using his free hand to grab her by the hip and hold the back half of her body in the air. It took only a few sharp thrusts from behind, forcing her to brace her hands against the desk to avoid being shoved off-balance, before he released deep inside her with a stifled moan. He kept touching her, even once he finished, and when Misa came, she did it with her eyes open and locked on the video, sucking on her lower lip to keep in the sounds, watching her own bare legs tremble in the air and her back arch, watching L’s strong arms as he held her up.

She was still shaking when he flipped her around and set her bare ass down on the desk, pulling her into a rough kiss. When he pulled back, he looked lucid again, more than he had since the moment she unzipped his pants, and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with a thoughtful expression.

L leaned in, and the feeling of his lips moving right against her ear made her shiver as he murmured, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

It didn’t occur to Misa until later that night to wonder if he meant that in a way that was more than just metaphorical.

While she enjoyed the fact that L couldn’t seem to get enough of her, she was beginning to worry about him. She slept in his bed every night, but he didn’t always actually sleep. Much of the time, she would wake up to him crouched over his laptop at the end of the bed, or staring in silence at the wall. His diet had never been especially good, but she didn’t think it was her imagination that it was getting worse. Sometimes he even turned down the sweets that Watari brought out to him. It seemed like the amount that he ate was decreasing every day, while his coffee intake, on the other hand, only seemed to increase.

That night in particular, when they retired to his bedroom, he seemed… off, somehow. Distracted. And, surprisingly, when she asked him what was wrong, he broke their unspoken rule of not talking about the case.

“Kira is getting bolder,” he admitted, reclining against his headboard with a sigh. “He’s punishing dozens of people per day at this point. His popularity among common people has grown as well, and I suspect there are even law enforcement officers leaking information about criminals to the public, even though the official police stance is against Kira.”

Misa’s eyes widened. She wasn’t allowed to access news channels on her personal TV, only entertainment, and she hadn’t been paying too much attention when the task force watched the news. Shut up in the headquarters by herself, it was easy to forget that the rest of the world was going on and evolving without her. It was easy to forget that everything she knew about Kira was outdated information now, that it had been months since she had actively followed the case.

She settled down on the bed as well, sitting a few feet away. Misa felt like she had to walk on eggshells if she wanted to avoid upsetting L. And she didn’t want to upset him, she was a people-pleaser by nature, but at the same time, she wasn’t the type to hide her feelings. “Why does this bother you so much?” she asked, finding that, having been given implicit permission to ask L about the investigation, she was genuinely curious about, and almost perplexed by, his motives. “They’re just criminals. The world is better off without them. That’s why so many people are supporting Kira.”

When L turned to her, his eyes were so tired, and so cold, that she almost wanted to shrink back, but the weight of her belief in Kira allowed her to meet his gaze. “Do you still believe that?” he asked, voice quiet. “Almost every tragedy humans have inflicted on each other in history has been caused by those with power deciding that another group of people are subhuman, and therefore their lives are without value.

“Kira’s ideas aren’t anything new. We have already seen, within the past century, what happens to a society that strips some people of their worth as human beings. We have already seen what happens when someone with power starts thinking they can cleanse the world of those they see as without value. You would think that would be a lesson this country, in particular, might have learned, but people are always eager for permission to see others as less than themselves.”

Misa set her jaw. She didn’t really pay that much attention in history class, finding it boring compared to the present day, so she wasn’t about to get into an argument with L that she was sure to lose for lack of knowledge. But still, she couldn’t help but retort, “You can’t compare people killing innocents out of prejudice to a god casting judgment on people who are hurting others!”

Misa was surprised to see L, who normally seemed apathetic about anything but the intellectual challenge of the case, getting heated. “Just because someone is a criminal, does that mean their life is without value? Do you think it’s right, for a person’s entire worth, their right to live, to be judged based only on the worst mistake they’ve ever made? Who draws the line? If someone decided to judge you based only on the worst things you’ve done, or myself, how do you think they would see us?”

Talking about abstract principles was one thing, but this was personal for Misa, and L’s dismissal had struck a sore spot in her. She found herself shouting back at him: “What about the man who killed my family? They weren’t given the right to live, so why should he have been?! Are you saying that that murderer’s life had as much value as the lives of my parents? I can’t believe that. Someone like that… is worse than scum, in my eyes.”

L’s eyes widened and his face softened a little, but he didn’t back down. “I’m just asking you to think about it, Misa. To really think about whether you want to live in a world where one person with power can decide that some human lives have value and others don’t, whether you agree with their criteria or not. Just because Kira did something good for you, that doesn’t make him a god. That just means he got lucky.”

Misa didn’t have a response to that, so she just huffed and crossed her arms, leaning back against the headboard herself and staring up at the ceiling. She didn’t know how to argue her point, but she couldn’t agree with L. Someone had to punish the people who hurt others. Someone had to protect the innocents of the world, like her family. The law couldn’t do it. Only Kira could.

After a few minutes, L spoke again. She could see him glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes as he said, “Besides, it’s not like Kira only kills criminals. Do you want me to list for you the names of all of Kira’s victims who have been proved innocent of their crimes after they were already dead? Also, Kira, and the second Kira in particular, has killed FBI agents, police officers, and reporters. Were those people scum, too?”

Knowing that L suspected her of being the second Kira, at least up until he took her into custody, it was hard for Misa not to take his comments personally, even though she knew she was innocent. Besides, it was her hero that he was talking badly about. “Obviously Kira judged that their deaths were necessary to bring about his new world. Some of them, like the police, were standing in the way. The reporters weren’t, but isn’t it worth a few sacrifices to reach a peaceful, safe world?”

L laughed sharply at that. “That’s always how they justify it, Misa. There is always someone willing to argue that other people’s lives are a necessary sacrifice. Like I said, Kira isn’t doing anything new.” When he turned to look at her, Misa found herself meeting his eyes as if by compulsion. “What about the task force? The second Kira already killed Ukita. Who will be next, Light’s father? Mogi and Aizawa? Matsuda? What about me? We’re standing in the way of Kira. Can you look me in the eyes and say that, in your mind, our deaths are an acceptable price to pay for Kira’s new world?”

Misa’s breath caught in her throat as he raised his voice at her, and she had to look away again. “That’s different,” she said quietly. “You guys are…” She trailed off, picturing L when he lit the candle on her slice of cake, when he knelt down to undress her like she was a queen. Picturing Matsuda and the way he always beamed at her when she entered the room.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw L shake his head. “It’s really not. The only difference is that you’ve been forced to get to know us. But, Misa, that’s a child’s view of the world, to feel as though other people’s lives and thoughts and feelings aren’t real if you don’t see them. Every person killed by Kira was important to someone.” After a moment, he sighed and said, under his breath, “I don’t know why I bother.”

She felt like her thoughts were all twisted up in her head to the point that she couldn’t even identify how she felt anymore, so instead of responding, she reached over to the nightstand and flipped off the lights. “I’m going to sleep now,” she said, her voice flat. L didn’t say anything at all.

A few hours later, in the middle of the night, Misa was woken by a series of noises. Squinting in the dark, she made out the shape of L, who was curled in the fetal position at the very edge of the bed, facing away from her. He seemed to be asleep, but he was shaking, letting out small whimpers and cries.

Misa grabbed hold of his shoulder and shook him gently. L woke with a start, jerking out of her grasp and instantly scrambling into a sitting position near his pillow. His eyes were wild, darting around the room like he didn’t know where he was.

“Hey, hey,” Misa said gently, reaching up to stroke his cheek. At first, he flinched away, but she persisted, and he eventually relaxed into her touch. “Did you have a nightmare?”

L nodded, his breathing starting to return to normal. He tugged at Misa’s arm, and she let herself be pulled against him, head falling onto his shoulder. As he held her, his body slowly stopped shaking and his breathing calmed.

When they went back to sleep, L still curled up on his side, facing away from her, but he let Misa fit her body against his back, spooning him. He was so much taller than her that her whole field of vision was just the wall of his shoulders, but she pressed her cheek to it and wrapped her arm around his waist, and he exhaled slowly, the tension leaving his body again.

That wasn’t the last night that Misa was woken by L’s bad dreams. Each time, he allowed her to calm him down, to kiss his temple and to hold him until he fell back asleep. But he would never tell her what he dreamed about.

Chapter Text

Despite their argument, and L’s nightmares, he didn’t treat Misa any differently, and he certainly didn’t pull away. She felt uncomfortable sometimes, when they were together, because his turmoil was almost palpable, but she wasn’t going to say anything if he didn’t bring it up first.

In what seemed like no time at all, the week was over. On Monday loomed the beginning of her film shoot. L’s anxiety had rubbed off on Misa, and she found herself almost nervously awaiting it. It had been months since she had left the building, and she couldn’t help but feel like things would change, somehow, when she was no longer living in this isolated little cocoon with L. Maybe by Monday evening, her worries would seem silly, and she would realize that nothing had changed at all.

But L’s actions didn’t help her to pretend that everything was normal: he actually gave the task force the weekend off. Typically, they worked somewhat reduced hours over the weekends, or not everyone would come in, so that the men, especially those with families like Mr. Yagami and Mr. Aizawa, could get at least some time to themselves. But to give the entire task force two days off in a row was almost unheard of.

Misa would normally be excited to have L’s attention all to herself for a whole weekend, but she couldn’t help feeling uneasy at the strangeness of his behavior. There was an urgency to his actions that she didn’t know how to explain. Still, she tried her best to enjoy herself and pretend that everything was normal, to act cheerful and unconcerned.

It was easier than she expected, especially when she found out that L was more than happy to spend the entirety of Saturday in bed with her. Watari, though apparently still in the building, had been out of sight all day, which meant they could be as loud and indecent as they wanted.

It was crazy, Misa thought, how quickly she had gotten used to being casually intimate with L. A week or two ago, she was just barely coming to terms with her attraction to him, and now, they were just hanging out in his bed like it was no big deal. It made her feel a little giddy, so she rolled over onto her stomach and propped her chin up on her hand, her crossed legs swinging together in the air behind her.

“Hey, now that you’ve decided I’m allowed out in public, it’s not just Matsuda who can escort me, right? Couldn’t you, too?”

L frowned. “I mean, in theory, yes, but I’m afraid I don’t have the time or inclination to hang around your film set.”

The image of L surrounded by actors and film crew, looking totally alien and uncomfortable, made Misa want to laugh. “That’s not what I meant!” she said with a small giggle. “I just was going to say that we could go out on a real date for once. Like, dress up in fancy clothes and go to a restaurant or something.”

It was stupid, Misa thought, that her heart should race so much, like she was a high school girl giving someone chocolates for Valentine’s Day. After all, they had been sleeping together for over a week. Going on a date shouldn’t be a big deal compared to that. But she was still somewhat giddy at the thought of doing such a normal, couple-y activity with L, and nervous that he would reject her. And so, when his expression settled into an apologetic smile, like he was trying to let her down easy, she felt her heart sink.

“I’m sorry, Misa, but I don’t think that will be possible until the Kira case is over.”

Misa stuck out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout. “Why not? You went out in public with Light.”

“Well, first of all, you’re a celebrity. If we are photographed together, all Light would need to do would be to show the photograph to the other Kira and I would be dead. Besides that, I’m still uncertain of the other Kira’s identity, so we could run across them in public without me knowing, and they would be able to identify us based on Light’s descriptions.”

Misa didn’t even bother arguing about whether Light was Kira or not. Since her conversation with Matsuda, she wasn’t even sure what she believed, but she didn’t think it was worth arguing over. That wasn’t going to convince L to take her out. “We could wear disguises!” she suggested.

L sighed. “I’m sorry, Misa, it’s just too dangerous for both of us.”

She scowled. “If Kira is stopping you from taking Misa out on a nice date, then I’ll just have to help you catch him fast!” she announced. She was joking, of course—the idea of Misa trying to catch Kira was absurd. But she regretted it almost immediately when she noticed L’s expression: a resigned, sad little smile, like he knew she would never say it for real.

Misa shifted uncomfortably, and L spoke up quickly, changing the subject. “We can’t be seen in public together, but if there’s anything else you want to do this weekend, I’m open to suggestion.”

His words made her feel warm, but also confused. She couldn’t understand why he was spending so much time on her, and going along with her pointless whims, when he was in the middle of the case. Did he really want to be around her that badly? She knew she was hot, but L didn’t seem like the type to be blinded by an attractive woman when he had work to do.

Still, she was flattered. Being able to hold the attention of someone like him wasn’t something that she had expected. Misa rolled onto her back again and stared up at the ceiling with a small smile. “I’m glad this happened,” she said, trying not to worry about whether he would tease her for saying something so corny. “A couple of weeks ago, I wouldn’t have expected we would end up like this, you know? I didn’t think you were ever going to give in. I was practically throwing myself at you, and you barely seemed to notice. I wasn’t even sure if you were attracted to me at all.”

L snorted. “I’m not blind. It would be much more unusual if I didn’t find you attractive.”

Misa bit her lip to hide her smile. “You played it so cool, though! Sometimes I thought you didn’t even notice me trying to get your attention.” Of course, she was fishing for compliments, but L didn’t seem inclined to call her out on it. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how much Misa thrived on validation.

“Are you kidding? You have no idea what you were doing to me. Another week of you flaunting yourself at me like that and I probably would have exploded.” L glanced at her, and she knew he must have noticed the flash of interest in her eyes, because when he continued, he had a sly sort of look on his face. “I only seemed so calm because I was jerking off something like three times a day. I haven’t been that bad since I was a schoolboy.”

At that, Misa couldn’t help but grin. The thought of L doing something like that, because of her, just so he could act normal around her… He knew what she wanted to hear. She leaned in closer, something almost predatory in her smile. “I could’ve helped you with that, you know. I would have wanted to. It was awfully rude of you, to hide it from me and pretend not to care.”

“Yes, how thoughtless of me,” L responded with an ironic little twitch of his lips. Misa was starting to have an idea.

“Especially since you got to watch me on your cameras…” she continued, sitting up. “It’s really unfair.”

“My apologies,” L said. His face was turning pink, but his voice was still as flat as always. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel that your charms were unappreciated. How would you like me to make it up to you?”

Misa gave him a long look, wondering if he knew what she was going to ask. “I want you to show me how you did it.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to explain. “Touch yourself for me, I mean.”

Apparently L hadn’t already guessed where the flirting was going, because he gave her a rather startled look. She loved that she could still embarrass him now, despite everything they had already done together.

“You’re so rude, always watching people all the time like some sort of pervert,” Misa added, stressing the word just to see the face he made in response. “Turnabout is only fair.”

L swallowed, and she watched the movement of his Adam’s apple with undisguised interest. He closed his eyes for a second, as if processing her request. “How should I…” L trailed off.

Misa tilted her head for a second, considering. “Stand next to the bed,” she told him. “And take your clothes off.”

As he climbed off of the bed with a strange unfolding of his limbs, she felt a small thrill go through her. She might be his prisoner here, in a sense, but she had him wrapped around her dainty little fingers and they both knew it. Even the way he paused, looking at her for confirmation with his hands playing at the bottom of his shirt, told her what she already knew instinctively: he wanted to please her. She nodded, feeling almost like a queen. She didn’t have to yell or demand things like she had with Light. Even when she was quiet and accommodating, she knew that she had the upper hand.

L stripped out of his shirt as Misa settled herself against the headboard to watch, arms folded across her chest. Under her eager, appraising gaze, she saw a pink flush cover his chest and cheeks. She didn’t even bother to be shy about it; her eyes on him were absolutely rapt as he tugged down his boxers. He was already half hard. He paused once more, but when she said, softly, “Go on,” he spat into his hand and took hold of himself, beginning to stroke.

L watched Misa’s eyes. Misa watched L’s hand.

Misa and L were both quite loud, but in different ways. L was all breathless, wordless noises, gasps and moans and whimpers, as well as the occasional profanity and half-finished sentences. Whereas Misa, when she got turned on, usually ended up just sort of free-associating, like there was a direct line between her brain and mouth with no filter at all, and she always ended up saying the most embarrassing things. L, lacking a real grasp of what would sound hot and what would just be weird, had mostly given up on talking dirty, other than on rare occasions. Thankfully, Misa had a dirty enough mouth for the both of them.

“Look at you,” she said, reclining lazily on the bed. “I can just imagine you like this. When would you do it?” Though she asked, she wasn’t really expecting an answer. Getting coherent responses from L when he was aroused was often a futile endeavor. “After we hung out? After cuddling with me? I bet you would. There I would be, pressed up against you all innocently, and you’d have to run back to your room and jerk off like a teenager. Did you ever get hard next to me? Without me even knowing?”

L’s only answer was a small whine as his hand sped up. The whole time, he kept his eyes on her, roaming up and down her body with the same heavy stare she knew from the night she showed him her bikini. With an indulgent little smile, Misa lifted off her own shirt and tossed it to the side, leaving her seated on the bed in her lacy black bra. When L reached for her with his free hand, though, she swatted it away. “I didn’t say you could touch me,” she scolded, voice playful. The look he gave her was so pitiful that she wanted to laugh.

“What about when you watched the security cameras at night? When you were all alone and I was undressing in my bedroom?” L’s eyes widened, but he managed to respond with a sharp nod, and she did her best to look shocked. She was a good actress, after all. “Taking advantage of your position like that?” she chided. L’s eyes were glued to her, his mouth hanging slack, and she could see his hand speed up and his hips begin to move, thrusting into his tight fist. “What would the task force think? What if someone had caught you? Watching me, touching yourself to me, when I was oblivious and alone? When I was your prisoner? And so young, too: still a teenager. Not even old enough to drink. You must have felt like such a creep. Such a pervert.”

The way L moaned at the last word told Misa that she had hit the mark. She was so wet already, but she didn’t think he could tell. She kept her body still, and though her eyes were fervent, the rest of her expression was mockingly sincere. She continued, trying to keep a lightness to her voice, despite her own arousal. “Did you think about what would happen if I knew? That I might have been shocked to know how dirty you really were?” His movements stuttered just a bit, and she touched a finger to her own lips in that innocent sort of way the photographers always loved.

“I bet you thought about doing all sorts of dirty things to Misa when you looked at her on the cameras or in the magazines,” she said, widening her eyes at him. His own eyes were heavily lidded now, like he was barely able to keep them open. His free hand grabbed at his own messy hair for purchase, since he couldn’t touch her. “Here you had a beautiful model locked up and at your mercy… I’m sure you must have imagined all sorts of things. Remember the pictures of me in that bikini I showed you?”

L’s choked gasps, and the slap of his hand on his own flesh, provided a soundtrack to her rambling. “I looked so young and pretty in those pictures. Untouched. Innocent.” She knew that under any other circumstances, L would have snorted at Misa referring to herself as “innocent,” given how aggressively she had pursued him, but she knew he was too turned on to be sarcastic now, and she was taking full advantage of that fact.

“And there I was, being held captive by a dirty man like you. You could have done anything to me.” L groaned, and the sound made her want to touch herself, but it was more fun like this. She liked pretending to be the cool one for a change. Was it weird, how easily Misa could use her actual, literal imprisonment at the hands of her lover as fodder for dirty talk? Well, she couldn’t help what she liked, she supposed. Might as well get some fun out of the situation.

“I wonder,” she continued, glancing at him slyly, pausing as if unsure. All an act, of course. She had known from the start what she wanted to say. “I wonder if you ever looked at Misa’s pretty face and thought about getting her all dirty, too?”

L swore under his breath, the first words he had said since he started touching himself, and Misa felt her whole body thrum with the power her words had over him. He looked so beautiful, all of a sudden, in his pleasure. He was totally vulnerable to her, to the things that she said to him. It didn’t take much, now that he was this close, to push him where she wanted him.

“I bet a pervert like you would like that, wouldn’t you? To take something innocent and pretty and get it all dirty?” Her voice was sweet as syrup, despite the vulgarity of it. L whimpered. His need, and her power, made her feel magnanimous, so she smiled innocently up at him, tilted her head back, and said, “Go on, then. Get Misa dirty.” Like she was doing him a favor. Like this whole thing hadn’t been in her head all day to begin with. Like she didn’t have an almost desperate wish, for reasons she didn’t fully understand, for L to do exactly that.

L didn’t touch her, because she hadn’t given him permission, but the second she spoke, he was right up in her personal space, leaning over her, eyes wild and almost feral, as he jerked himself frantically. She had driven him to a point of almost mindless need, and to finish him off, she hit him with her big doe eyes, letting her tongue hang out of her open mouth a little, and he came hard. “Ah— ah— ah!” He let out sharp, wordless cries as his hips bucked forward, and Misa had the good sense to close her eyes just in time for the first hot spurt of cum to hit her face. L came everywhere, coating her face and cleavage, dripping in her mouth, somehow managing to get it everywhere from the top of her bra to the bottom of her bangs.

There was a silence as L’s breathing slowed. She couldn’t open her eyes, because he’d gotten her eyelids, too, but she knew that he was looking at her. “Fuck, Misa,” he finally said, and she could tell just from his voice that he was already embarrassed. “Let me get a cloth and I’ll clean you up.”

“No,” Misa interjected before he could walk away. She smiled when she heard him freeze in place. “Eat me out first.” Right now, the feeling of his cum covering her face and tits was the hottest thing she had ever experienced. Of course, once she got off and it was still there and getting dry, it would probably be gross, but that was a Future Misa problem. Horny Misa wanted to climax with L’s cum all over her. She wanted to be dirty for him, or maybe the other way around.

She couldn’t see L’s reaction, but she felt the bed dip as his weight settled onto it. He stripped her of her skirt and underwear quickly, leaving the bra on, and wrapped both arms around her thighs, pulling her against his mouth. She was already really worked up, which made it much easier to get into the sensation than it usually was for her. She found herself shamelessly thrashing under his ministrations, pulling his hair and clutching at his head hard enough that it must have hurt, but he just moaned and licked her wherever she pulled his mouth.

She could feel small tremors in the mattress and hear a rhythmic rustling of sheets, and realized after a second that L was rubbing himself against the mattress while he went down on her. The realization only heightened her arousal.

One of her hands ended up on her own breasts, groping for purchase, squeezing them through the lace, smearing L’s cum around on her chest, and she was barely cognizant of the words coming out of her mouth, but she knew they were fucking filthy by the way L was reacting. At one point she realized that she had just been repeating some variation of “I’m your dirty fucking whore” for god knows how long. When she came, she felt it ripple through her whole body like a shock wave, like stars behind her eyes, repeating L’s name (or, rather, letter) like an incantation.

While she was still laying back in a blissful fog on the bed, L took his shirt from the floor and cleaned her face off a bit, though it was probably going to be a lost cause until she was able to shower. Which she had been planning to do almost immediately, but apparently her reactions had gotten L going again, because as soon as she opened her eyes and blinked up at him lazily, he grabbed her around the waist and dragged her down the bed to lay flat, straddling her. Misa shrieked with laughter and surprise at the unexpected attack, and at the fact that he was already hard again, just from giving her head and listening to her shout out whatever perverted nonsense crossed her mind.

“I can’t believe your stamina.” Misa smiled up at him, slow and lazy. “I hope you aren’t expecting me to do any of the work this round,” she added with a feline stretch, arching her back and letting her arms fall on the bed above her head. “I’m not totally sure I can move yet.”

“Not a problem,” L said, straightening up so that he was kneeling on the bed between her legs. Grabbing her by the ass, he lifted her hips up until she was laying back on her shoulder blades with her lower body up in the air. Her pussy was still slick and swollen, and he was able to press into her in one steady movement. She wrapped both legs around his waist and laid back, hands twisting in the sheets above her head as he started to fuck her.

Since both of them had just gotten off, it started off much more relaxed and slow, almost tender. She expected L to tire, but he easily held her hips off the bed as he rocked into her slowly, only the tension visible in the muscles of his bare arms betraying the effort. She liked not having to do anything other than stretch out underneath him and look hot and let him do all the work. Eventually, though, they both got into it enough to overcome the lazy, tender atmosphere for something hotter.

As L’s breathing sped up, he changed positions, leaning closer and pulling Misa’s legs until they were draped over his shoulders, backs of her thighs against his chest, rather than wrapped around his waist. He pressed forward, still lifting her hips off the bed. As he thrust, he turned his head to the side and started to gently lick and suck her toes. Misa wasn’t sure if it was a testament to how turned on she was, or how familiar L’s strange behaviors had become, or both, that she just accepted the unexpected attention. Good thing I washed my feet recently…

Misa was still laying back almost bonelessly, arms above her head, letting L do all the work. She found herself talking to him again, though, her voice broken by the staccato rhythm of his thrusts. “You know, L,” she mused, “I’d pretty much let you fuck me whenever you want. You could—” here, she had to pause for a second, gasping at a particularly harsh movement of his hips, “You could sit me on your cock all day while you work, in front of the whole task force, and I’d let you. Just use my tight little hole to milk your cock whenever you got bored.”

L paused in his movements for a second, turning away from her foot. He closed his eyes and let out a frustrated groan. “Christ, Misa, you can’t just say things like that. I’m trying to last longer this time.”

She gave him a look of feigned apology, but she couldn’t quite suppress the wicked smile spreading across her lips. “Oh, sorry,” she said breezily. “It’s just that I’m obsessed with your cock, so I want it inside me all the time.” As she spoke, she clenched her muscles around him, and L turned his head to the side suddenly and bit the soft flesh of her inner calf, making Misa squeal and laugh and struggle to get away from him. “Hey!”

“You are impossible,” L grunted out, pushing her legs forward until she was folded nearly in half, fucking her harder now. “What will it take to shut you up? Do I have to gag you?”

Misa bit her lip, keeping her eyes locked on his. “Please.” She paused. “I’d prefer you gag me with your cock, though. It’s insane how much I love sucking your—” The last of L’s patience snapped and he clasped one hand over her mouth, muffling the sound of her laughter. She licked his palm once, sloppily, just to tease him a little more. He pounded into her harshly, as if in rebuke, and her laughter turned to moans under his hand, arching her back again, wishing her mouth was free so she could beg—for what, exactly, she wasn’t sure.

Like L had read her desire for more in her eyes, without her even needing to speak, he took both of her wrists in his free hand and pinned them down above her head. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but lay under him and take it. She was pinned down by his weight, and the force of his thrusts, pressing her legs against her chest, helpless to get away even if she wanted to. Just to test, she struggled weakly in his grip, wriggling underneath him, and she felt L grow even harder inside of her, twitching in response to her movements under him. She caught his gaze and held it, and his eyes were burning.

“I can’t believe how fucking tight you are,” he muttered, and she felt a flutter of pride in her chest. Maybe all I needed to do to get L to talk dirty was to shut up for awhile, she considered. “Hell, Misa, you have no idea how good you feel around me.” She whimpered under his palm, eyes locked on his in a silent plea. For him to hold her down, to make her take it. For him to allow her to be his, to allow her to give him pleasure. She probably liked this, she realized, even more than getting off. Just being able to please L, to make him feel good.

“Do you like it when I use you like this?” he asked, voice quiet, broken by the rhythm of his movements. “You’re always begging for it.” Misa couldn’t answer with his hand over her mouth, but when his fingers slid against her lips, she opened her mouth and sucked them in. She gave him her answer that way, without words, and she knew she must look unbelievably vulgar: her eyes half-lidded but locked on his, her mouth moaning and drooling a little as she practically deepthroated his fingers. His eyes fluttered shut for a second, and he said, almost wonderingly, “You’re such a greedy little thing, Misa.”

As L’s movements sped up again, he removed his hand from her mouth, shifting it to cup the side of her face instead, her own drool smearing on her cheek. His thrusts were brutal, almost animalistic, but his eyes and his hand were so gentle on her. “Please, L, please,” Misa gasped, eyes locked on his, and he pushed her legs to the side again so that he could cover her chest with his, even as he continued to pin her down with his other hand.

L leaned down, kissing her sloppily, his hand on her wrists and his mouth on hers, only his hips moving, continuing to slam into hers, the sound of their skin slapping together unbelievably filthy to Misa’s ears. She arched her back underneath him, trying to increase the friction on her swollen clit, still sensitive from her last orgasm. Then he lowered his head to the side, burying his face in her hair. “Fuck, Misa, you’re gonna make me cum. Do you want it inside you?”

“Fuck, L. Please, I—Oh, god, L!” Even more than the physical stimulation, it was the sound of words like that coming out of L’s mouth, confident like he’d never been with her before, that made Misa cum for the second time, writhing underneath him with a broken moan, struggling in his grip, breathtakingly thankful when he held her tight and didn’t let her go. At the feeling of her muscles spasming around him, L gave one last, rough thrust and buried himself in her with a loud moan, spilling inside of her.

Before she came back to her senses enough to complain about his weight on top of her, L let go of her wrists and rolled them both to the side, pulling out of her and wrapping one arm around her. Misa let herself be pulled into his chest, as sweaty and disgusting as they both were, and he tucked his chin over her head with a sigh.

Misa was drifting blissfully in L’s arms when she heard him clear his throat. “Was that okay? I wasn’t too, uh, aggressive?”

She planted a kiss on his smooth chest, too happy to even tease him. “That was okay. In fact, L, that may have been the most okay-est thing that has ever happened.”

“Oh.” She could hear the smile in his voice, even though she couldn’t see his face. “Okay. I mean, good.”

“We’ve still got the whole evening ahead of us,” she observed. “What do you want to do now?”

L’s forehead creased as if in serious thought, and he raised his thumb to his lips. Then he nodded to himself, seemingly coming to a decision. “Ice cream. I’m going to get some ice cream.”

“Hmm.” He’s so predictable. Misa looked up at him with a grin. “Want to put the ice cream on my body and lick it off?”

With an exaggerated groan, L pulled back and pressed a pillow gently against her face, pretending to try to smother her. “Who knew Misa Amane was such a pervert?” he wondered aloud to the empty room as she struggled and squealed. “What will her fans think?” Finally, she yanked the pillow out of his hands and whacked him with it.

“You’re gonna pay for that!” she announced dramatically, winding up to whack him again. The slow, sly smile that spread across his face stopped her in her tracks, actually making her forget what she was doing for a moment as something fluttered in her chest.

L looked her up and down, eyes sparkling. “Do you promise?”

Chapter Text

Misa thought they would be spending the whole weekend together, but on Sunday, L asked if he could have a few hours to himself in the afternoon, explaining that he had a little bit of work that he needed to get done. She accepted this with only minimal pouting. After all, getting a whole weekend alone with L was already more than she had ever expected.

So she took advantage of the few hours to relax, primping and reading magazines and looking at some of the materials that the director had sent, hoping to prepare herself a little for tomorrow. The movie was a romance, a fact that made her a little uncomfortable, but she couldn’t exactly complain without drawing Matsuda’s suspicion. She had promised L she would keep their relationship a secret, after all, and that meant acting like she was single.

Plus, it wasn’t like L was her boyfriend or anything… though the thought of kissing someone else made her feel a little queasy. They hadn’t talked about whether they were exclusive due to the obvious fact that neither of them were in a position to interact with anyone else they could possibly date. Unless one of them wanted to date Matsuda—and just the thought of that made Misa want to laugh.

It did amuse her a little that her leading man was being played by Hideki Ryuuga, the same celebrity whose name L had used as a pseudonym the first time they met. She wished she had a friend, other than L, that she could share that information with. Someone who would find it as funny as she did. But even if she had more friends, she wouldn’t be allowed to tell them about L.

As the sun began to set, something happened that never had before: the phone in Misa’s room rang. She hadn’t been allowed to use it, so she had almost forgotten it was there, and the sudden noise startled her into dropping her magazine. After a moment of confusion, she scrambled to pick it up.

“Hello?” she said uncertainly.

“Good evening, Misa.” She grinned at the familiar voice, even though she was confused why L would call her instead of just walking down the hallway to knock on her door. “Are you free tonight?”

This situation was only getting more confusing, but she decided to play along. “Well, I had plans to spend time with this weird guy I know, but if you’re cute, I guess I could cancel on him,” she joked.

“How fortunate for me, and unfortunate for him,” L responded dryly. “In that case, I’d ask that you come to my room in an hour and a half. I hope that will give you enough time to get dressed up.”

Misa frowned. “Dressed up for what?” she asked, finally giving up the game.

“Our date.”

Before she could respond, he hung up the phone, leaving her holding the receiver with her mouth hanging open. It was probably for the best, because the squeal she let out would have hurt his ears otherwise.

Misa fell back onto her bed, a smile on her face. I can’t believe he changed his mind. For a moment, she just lay there, grinning up at the ceiling in shock. She had a date. With L.

Then, suddenly, a thought came to her with enough urgency to snap her out of it and get her on her feet in an instant: What am I going to wear?!

While she had to rush more than she would have liked, within ninety minutes, Misa was transformed. She didn’t have many formal dresses here from her closet at home, but she did have this one: a tight red dress, cut above the knee and clinging to the slight curves of her body. It had a low-cut, scooped neckline, emphasizing what cleavage she did have. Her blonde hair was for once free of her usual pigtails, all gathered to one side, bangs pinned out of the way, hair sweeping down one side of her face in loose waves while leaving her neck fully bare on the other. She wore red lipstick, the shade matching her dress perfectly, and black heels with ribbons tied part of the way up her calves, a more subtle homage to her usual gothic lolita style.

Misa knew that L was older than her, at least by a little bit, and their relationship felt more adult than any she’d had before. She wanted to show him that she could be mature and sophisticated, too, and not just embarrass him. She stood in the doorway, bracing herself to knock, and hoped that her outfit would take his breath away.

What Misa didn’t expect was for things to be the other way around.

When the door opened, Misa’s mouth dropped open, and everything that she was planning to say flew out of her head. Standing in the doorway, shifting uncomfortably, was an L she had never seen before.

Not only had he changed out of the t-shirts and jeans, the only clothing she had ever seen him in, he was wearing a suit. A suit. A black suit, with a tie and everything, and it actually fit him rather than being all baggy. Even his hair was tamed, pushed back out of his face for once. The only signs of the usual L were the dark circles under his eyes, his characteristically bad posture, and the fact that he was still barefoot.

Misa felt herself making incoherent noises of shock and cleared her throat before trying to speak again. His eyes were wide, too, looking her up and down, but she cut him off before he could speak. “Did you go out and buy a suit just for this?” she demanded. Would he have even had time? I thought he was avoiding going out.

“Ah, no.” L kept reaching up as if to fiddle with his tie, only to stop himself at the last second. “Apparently I own one, just in case I need it for an important occasion or a case. I didn’t even remember until Watari told me. I don’t have much occasion to wear it.”

“Huh,” was all that Misa said, still looking him up and down.

Her silence seemed to make L feel uncomfortable. “Does it look okay?”

Misa frowned. “There is one thing…” she said, and then, before he could stop her, she jumped up on her tiptoes and ruffled his hair vigorously with both of her hands.

“Hey!” L said, looking surprised and a bit annoyed. “It took a long time to make my hair that neat. I thought you wanted me to dress up nicely?”

“You looked great, but you looked like a different person,” Misa explained. “I wanted you to look like L again.” She grinned up at him, taking in the contrast of his messy hair and terrible posture with the crisp, fitted suit. That was more like it.

His eyes widened, but she thought she saw the hint of a smile on his face before he turned away, beckoning her into the room. “Like I said, it’s too dangerous for us to be seen in public together, but you asked if we could go on a date, so I had Watari prepare us a dinner. I hope it’s okay if we eat it here.”

Misa stared into the room in shock, taking in the flowers and candles on the table. “It’s more than okay. But, L, you didn’t have to go to all of this effort.” She had never even expected him to agree to a date, not really, so this was more than she had ever imagined would happen. No one she had dated had ever done something this sweet for her—especially not Light, not that he’d had much chance to.

“Well,” L said, looking away, “to be honest, I’ve never been on a date before. I thought it might be an interesting thing to experience at least once in my life.”

His voice was steady, but she could tell he was embarrassed, so Misa approached him and stood on her tiptoes, pressing a chaste kiss to his mouth. She pulled away and stepped back a few inches, looking up at him. “How do I look?” she asked. “You haven’t said anything about my outfit!”

“Misa always looks beautiful, so I didn’t see the point in commenting on it,” L responded, but she could see the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. She hit him lightly on the arm.

“I suppose a loser like you who’s never even been on a date wouldn’t know, but you’re supposed to tell your date that she looks beautiful!” Misa explained, trying to sound sincerely helpful rather than teasing. “It’s the law.”

“Well, then, I suppose I’m lucky I have Misa here to teach me.” L reached out, tracing his fingertips down her bare arm, and she shivered. “If you must know, though, I’m not sure I’ve seen anyone or anything as beautiful as you before.”

Despite loving romantic stuff like that, Misa was so flustered that she had to look away, turning bright red. How could he just say stuff like that with such a straight face?! And he was grinning at her now, like the smug asshole knew exactly what kind of an effect he had on her.

Finally, Misa got ahold of herself again, brushing her hair back out of her face. “I’ll accept it,” she said, nodding seriously, and walked over to the table.

On her plate, there was a delicious looking filet of salmon cooked with rice and vegetables. On what seemed to be L’s plate, there was something that looked like an entire breaded fish, but cartoonish, somehow, and without any steam coming off of it, like it wasn’t even warm. “Uh, is that—”

“Yes, it’s taiyaki,” L confirmed before she could even finish her sentence. Misa snorted as she took a seat at the table. Only L would decide to eat a fish-shaped pancake for his first date so that he could ‘match’ her meal.

Her eyes fell on a tall glass bottle on the table. The label was in Latin characters, not Japanese, but it looked like—“Wine?” Misa asked, and L nodded. “I didn’t know that you drank alcohol.”

L sat down across from her. “I normally don’t, but it seemed like the expected thing to do on a date. This is the only type of wine I like, actually, so I get it imported from America.”

Misa stared at the bottle. She didn’t recognize it, but if L went so far as to pay to import it from another continent, this must be really fancy, high-class wine! There was already some in her glass, so she lifted it and took a sip, trying to look like she knew what she was doing.

Almost immediately, Misa coughed, choking a little. It tasted like no wine she had ever had in her life. In fact, it tasted more like alcoholic grape juice than anything, like how a child might imagine wine would taste. The cloyingly sweet flavor was overwhelming. “What is this?” she demanded in shock.

“It’s technically a Kosher wine, made for Jewish people to drink on the holidays,” L explained, smiling like he didn’t notice her reaction at all. “I’m not Jewish, but it’s the only good wine I’ve ever had. I don’t understand why more wines aren’t made this way.” Finally taking in Misa’s expression, his brow wrinkled. “Do you not like it?”

Misa stared at L, taking in his plate of fish-shaped pancake and his disgusting, syrupy Jewish wine and the expression on his face, like he had tried so hard to put together a date that Misa would enjoy despite having no idea how to go about it. She took a deep breath and smiled. If L was trying to make her happy, then it didn’t really matter if he was barefoot and had taste-buds that hadn’t evolved since he was five.

Yeah, it wasn’t exactly Titanic. It wasn’t the kind of date she had imagined Light would take her on. But that was because L was L, not Light or Leonardo DiCaprio. This date was the way it was, and could be nothing other than that, because of the particular person that L was. And she liked L in particular.

“It’s lovely. Thank you, L.”

The food, like everything Watari prepared, was delicious. Misa wondered if he was just happy to make something other than cakes for a change. And once she got used to the taste of the ‘wine,’ it wasn’t so bad, either. Okay, it didn’t exactly go well with fish and rice, but it made her feel warm all over, made the lights of the candles softer and more romantic.

These days, L and Misa tended to spend more time together with their clothes off than not, having skipped all of the typical dating rituals in favor of just having lots of sex, so it surprised her, a little, how easy he was to talk to. She always worried about being able to keep up with him, but he didn’t talk down to her, and even though he avoided personal topics, he had such interesting stories about all the cases he had solved.

L didn’t drink too much, but he as he moved on to his second glass, his laughter came easier for a change. He was in the middle of saying something—teasing her, probably—and his face was pink and he pushed his hair back from his face, uncovering a genuine smile behind it, and Misa felt a jolt all of a sudden when she realized how relaxed he was.

She took him in, his words failing to reach her ears. L was sitting with his legs down, wearing uncomfortable clothing, even drinking alcohol. It was like he wasn’t on guard at all, like he didn’t mind if he wasn’t able to use his full mental capacities. It was like he trusted her. And that should have made her happy, but for a moment, she felt a cold shock of dread in her spine. Why would he trust her like this? Why would he let his guard down around her? Was it all just an act? Or was he really so careless?

It was such a contradictory thing to feel. Misa felt no desire to hurt L. She liked him, and she didn’t want him to be hurt. But, even though she had no desire to hurt him, the situation felt dangerous, somehow. She wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake him, to tell him to be more careful. To protect him from herself.

Then the moment was gone. Maybe I drank too much, Misa wondered. I don’t usually zone out like that. She smiled, refocusing on L, trying to catch up to what he was saying. But he had paused, and she didn’t want to admit that she hadn’t been listening, so she decided to change the subject.

“Hey, L, can I ask a personal question?” Misa asked. She was glad that he’d given up on trying to make her call him Ryuuzaki when they were alone. As long as she used the right name in front of the task force, he didn’t seem to mind. She got the feeling that he actually liked it, particularly in more intimate contexts.

“You can ask,” L said, taking another sip of his ‘wine.’ “I can’t promise I’ll answer.”

Misa frowned at that, but she went on anyway. “What’s Watari’s deal? Like, is he your dad or something? He acts like it sometimes.”

L paused, leaving her to wonder if he was going to just ignore her, but to her surprise, he answered. “Not exactly, but he’s the closest thing I have to family. Watari raised me in a group home with other children. I never knew my real parents, since they died when I was very young.”

A pang of sympathy went through Misa, as well as guilt for bringing up what might be a sensitive topic. She lowered her voice. “You’re an orphan too? Like Misa?” When he nodded, she felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes. L was all alone in the world, just like her, except he didn’t even have a sister like she did. Just an old man who had taken him in.

“There’s no need to pity me, Misa. I don’t feel sad about my situation, since I don’t really know what it’s like to have anything different. I’m happy enough with the way my life has been.” Misa wondered which would be better: to be without parents her whole life, to always be alone, like L, or to know what it was like to have a family, only to lose them out of nowhere, like Misa.

Despite the pain that she had felt, that she still felt, from the loss of her parents, Misa thought she had the better end of the deal. At least she knew that she had been loved unconditionally at one point, even if she didn’t know if she would ever feel that way again. She felt a fresh wave of protectiveness towards the man across the table, and though she didn’t want to make him feel bad, she found herself blurting out, “People aren’t meant to be alone, though. Not even you, L.” He gave her a helpless sort of shrug at that, the corner of his mouth threatening to turn down.

Acting on instinct, Misa stretched across the table and grabbed L’s hand, clasping it in both of hers. He looked taken aback, and slightly uncomfortable, at her sudden motion into his personal space, as well as at her wide-eyed, earnest expression. “You shouldn’t have to be alone,” she insisted again, voice quiet, and squeezed his hand. After a moment of hesitation, L squeezed back. His hand was warm and big enough that both of hers barely covered it.

They held hands across the table in silence for a moment. Misa was fighting back tears, picturing how lonely L must have been, and L mostly looked shocked at the strength of her reaction. Misa felt a little embarrassed about her sudden emotional state, so after a little while, she pulled her hands away again, blushing.

Misa wanted to change the subject, and lighten the mood a little, so she said, “I wonder what you were like as a kid. I bet you were really odd-looking. Maybe I should ask Watari for some stories or pictures…” Of course, she probably wouldn’t do that, since Watari kind of intimidated her. She just wanted to embarrass L.

To her surprise, he laughed. “I’m afraid I destroyed all photographs of myself when I took the Kira case, but I’m sure Watari has plenty of stories. Like my first day at the orphanage…”

“Can you tell me about it?” Misa asked, resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand, leaning forward. Not the best table manners, but, given her dining companion, she didn’t think he’d judge her. And she wasn’t used to L talking about himself, but she supposed he was smart enough to tell stories without any incriminating details.

“Well, my first day, Watari led me into a room full of children and left me there for an hour while he prepared a bedroom for me. But the other children, after saying, ‘A new face! Let’s cuddle him!’, used violence against me. So I had to defend myself.”

“By violence,” Misa interjected, “do you mean they tried to hug you?”

“Yes, exactly!” L replied, getting animated now, waving his hands as he talked, cheeks a little flushed from the wine. “So anyway, by the time Watari returned, all of the other children were defeated and laying on the floor, and I was standing in the middle of them, saying to him, ‘I am justice!’”

Misa stared at him with her mouth wide open for a second before beginning to giggle. Before she could stop herself, she was flat-out cackling, covering her face with both hands. She was so taken aback that, rather than her usual polite, feminine laughter, she ended up snorting, banging her hand on her own leg in emphasis. The mental image of little bitty L with his giant eyes, surrounded by unconscious children who had just wanted a cuddle, was too much for her.

Every time Misa nearly got ahold of herself, a line from the story would repeat in her head, setting her off again, and she would have to cover her face again, sputtering, whispering “I am justice” under her breath. L watched her, seeming patiently amused by her hysteria. Finally, breathing hard, she managed to stop laughing.

“I’m so sorry,” she gasped, dabbing at her eyes and hoping her makeup wasn’t smearing. “That’s the funniest thing I have ever heard. I just, I can’t—”

“I took it very seriously at the time.”

“Oh, I’m sure you did.” Misa paused. “Hey, you used to fight everyone who tried to hug you, right? But you always let me cuddle you as much as I wanted, even before we started…” She trailed off, gesturing between the two of them, uncertain how to describe what exactly they were doing.

“Yes, I suppose Misa is special,” L responded, voice even, and an uncontrollable smile spread across Misa’s face.

“I’m glad,” she responded, blushing at her own honesty, and they both looked away from each other for a moment, neither one speaking.

After an awkwardly long silence, L coughed. “I think I’m about finished with dinner, if you’d like to do something else.”

“Don’t you need dessert?” Misa asked, only half joking. To anyone else, L’s entire dinner would have been dessert, but she somewhat expected him to pull out a cake as well.

“Yes, I do,” L said, giving her a look that she couldn’t quite read, but when he stood up with a small stretch and looked at the bed, Misa blushed again. What a cliché line, she grumbled in her head, but that didn’t mean it didn’t work. He crossed the room to his bed, seemingly waiting for her to follow.

Without even bothering to explain what he wanted in more detail, L lay down on his back on the bed, stretched across it sideways with his head hanging off, and Misa slipped her panties off as she approached him, hoping that she had the right idea. She hadn’t drank that much, but the wine left her feeling warm and fluid as she sauntered her way over to him, hips swaying. The movement made her feel confident, almost goddess-like, and she lifted the hem of her dress out of the way as she stepped forward to straddle his head, one leg on either side.

Under her skirt, L raised his head and began to lick her, slowly at first, along the full length of her slit. He reached his arms up to wrap around her hips and ass, pulling her down onto his mouth, and she tilted her head back, allowing herself to bask in the attention. As he started to focus more on her clit, pointing his tongue rather than flattening it, Misa was already moaning, rolling her hips down against his face.

Still, as much as she was enjoying this, the pleasure made her feel dizzy on her feet, and between the wine and her heels, she didn’t think she could get much more worked up without falling over and probably spraining L’s neck in the process. So, with a little remorse, she stepped back. Besides, she wanted to try to finish with him inside of her again, like she had managed to do yesterday.

Impatient, Misa pulled off her shoes and unzipped her dress before L could help, but when he sat up on the bed, pulled his tie loose, and started to unbutton his shirt, she blurted out, “Wait!” L paused, raising an eyebrow at her, and she flushed. “Would you keep the suit on?”

He tilted his head, looking confused. “That sounds impractical, and I’m pretty sure it would get dirty.”

Misa rolled her eyes. “You’re rich, L. You can just get it dry cleaned. Or buy a new one.”

The questioning look stayed on his face, but he shrugged and stopped, leaving only the top two buttons undone, and fiddled with the tie in his hands as he watched her undress. He didn’t ask for an explanation, trusting Misa to guide things, but she felt like giving one anyway. “I thought it might be nice to be naked while you’re all dressed up,” she explained, glancing off to the side in embarrassment as she unclasped her bra.

L’s eyes lit up in understanding, and he reached out with both hands, wrapping his tie around Misa’s bare waist. Taking each side in one hand, he pulled her closer until she reached the bed, climbing up to straddle his lap, and titled his head back for a kiss. She liked the silk fabric of the tie around her waist, pulling her flush against his torso as their lips met.

The kiss was slow and sweet at first, but when Misa started to grind down on L’s lap, he let the tie fall and wrapped both arms around her back. He turned both of them over onto the bed, laying Misa out on her back with him on top of her. L ran one hand up her bare side and leaned close, whispering, “You always have such good ideas. I can’t keep up.”

Misa grinned. It really was a good idea: lying on her back like this, her legs spread with L in between, the expensive fabric of his suit rubbing against her naked skin, felt deliciously perverse. He was all professional, every bit the famous, mysterious detective, and she was completely exposed and vulnerable, ready to be taken. Misa liked his body, but she liked this, too. She liked feeling like he had come in to fuck her on his lunch break and didn’t want to bother getting undressed. It brought back her “L’s kept woman living in his fancy hotel suite” fantasy in full force.

She reached down between them, cupping him through his slacks, and L groaned, letting his head hang down. As Misa unzipped his fly and pulled him out, beginning to stroke, she found herself blurting out, “What will you do after the Kira case?” The wine certainly wasn’t helping with her tendency to babble during sex.

L’s forehead wrinkled at having to split his attention between the feeling of Misa’s hand wrapped around him and answering her question. “I—I suppose I’ll move on to the next case, wherever that may be.”

“Take me with you,” Misa said, the words coming out in a rush before she could stop herself.

L froze. Before he could respond, she lined him up and wrapped one leg around his waist, pulling him into her. She was already so wet from the earlier attention that he easily pressed into her without stopping at all. When their hips were flush together, they both took a moment to breathe and adjust, during which L managed to say, “Misa, you know we can’t—”

“Why can’t we?” Misa demanded, cutting him off, and as if to rebuke her for the interruption, L began to move, forcing her to clutch at the back of his jacket for purchase.

Misa loved having L inside of her like this. No one else had ever had her this way, and no one had ever gotten this from him, either. No one but Misa. And that was how it was supposed to be. She wrapped herself around him, arms and legs both, as if to pull him further inside of herself. She felt so greedy for him. Maybe, if she was good enough, he would stay with her.

L sped up, thrusting harder at her urging, but didn’t seem to be planning to answer her question, so Misa started talking again. Just trying to paint a picture for him of what they could have, more fantasy than plan. In broken sentences, she told him that he could keep her in his hotel room wherever he went, take her three times a day, that she could suck him off every morning before he went to work. Even as L stayed silent, his eyes were on her, half closed in ecstasy, but with something like sadness in them as well, as she built up the fantasy of their life together around them.

She was getting close, already halfway there from the foreplay, and it was different this time: while he was still rough with her, there was something unbearably tender in the look that passed between their eyes. Misa almost wanted to cry from pure want, because it wasn’t enough, they could stay like this forever and it still would never be enough for her. Not close enough. Not long enough. She didn’t know what more she wanted, but she kept talking, begging—“Please, L, we fit together so perfectly, I was made for you to be inside of me, let me stay with you and you can have anything you want from me, just let me be good for you, just let it be me and no one else, I’m yours, L, please let me be yours, make me yours, please.”

L made a sharp noise in his throat, almost pained, and drew her into a bruising kiss, but even then, she kept moving her lips, pressing the words into his open mouth: “I’m yours, L, make me yours, make me—” and then she was arching her back, her mouth still open, the wave of her orgasm shaking her whole body under him, and his lips slid down to her ear, whispering, “Misa, Misa, sweet Misa” as he reached his own climax inside of her.

Then her climax was over, but there was another feeling in its wake, building in her chest, and when L tried to withdraw to lay down beside her, it took her a second to let him go. She wanted him to stay right where he was, but she couldn’t explain that, so she loosened her grip on him after a moment of resistance. He lay on his side next to her, still in his (now extremely rumpled and besmirched) suit, and when he put his arms around her, she pressed in as close to his body as she could get, as if she wanted to shut the rest of the world out. From the way his arms tightened around her, she knew that he felt the same.

L held her as their breathing slowed, running his fingers all over her bare skin, up and down her back and side, as she buried her face in his chest. The moment felt different, all of a sudden. Big. Maybe it was because it was their last night before she re-entered the outside world, or maybe it was because of the way he had looked at her, but she suddenly felt overwhelmed, like she couldn’t fit the fullness of the moment, and her feelings, inside of her. She felt a knot building in her chest, a lump in her throat.

Misa tried to distract herself, but something swept over her, and before she knew it, she was shaking in L’s arms, tears falling from her eyes. She knew that he had noticed by the way his movements froze. He pulled back to look at her, concern and confusion in his eyes. “You’re crying,” he observed softly. “Did… did I do something wrong?”

Misa didn’t know what to say, and the frustration just made her cry harder. Finally, she choked out, “You’re so nice to me.”

L wrinkled his brow, the beginnings of panic in his eyes. “I’m sorry? I can stop?” he said questioningly.

She laughed a little, through her tears. “I just don’t understand why you’re so nice to me. I don’t deserve it.”

“Misa,” L said, stroking her cheek with his thumb right where the tears were rolling down. “What do you mean, you don’t deserve it?”

“I—” Misa stopped, because she didn’t really know the answer to that, and then, surprising even herself, she broke out in sobs. “There’s something, L. I did something wrong. I—”

“What did you do?” he asked her. His voice was gentle, but she couldn’t tell if he was speaking as L, her lover, or L, her investigator, and that only made the sudden feeling of despair grow inside of her.

“I don’t know! I think… I think there’s something wrong with me,” she forced out. “I don’t—I don’t remember, L. Why can’t I remember? I just know I must have done something wrong, something bad. I’m bad. You shouldn’t—” She was gasping for air, barely getting the words out. “You’re going to leave. They all left. My parents. Light. They left because I was bad, and now you’re going to leave, or I’m going to hurt you. I can’t remember, L.”

And she really couldn’t. But she could feel it in her mind—an empty space, left by something big, something important. All she could get from the empty space was vague impressions, ones that told her that she was wrong for L, that he shouldn’t trust her, that something horrible was going to happen if he cared about her too much. His nightmares, her confusion, her tears, they all felt like part of something bigger, all of a sudden. Like pieces of a puzzle that she didn’t know how to put together.

“L, please, I—I need you to figure it out. I need you to tell me what I did. I’m bad, L, you shouldn’t… We can’t… I’m only going to hurt you. You need to stay away from me,” she babbled, in between sharp gasps of air. “I’m bad, Misa is bad, she’s wrong, she did something wrong, she—”

L cut her off, pressing his lips directly onto hers, kissing her like he didn’t even care that her face was covered in tears and snot. That was enough to stop her words, but when he broke the kiss, she was still hyperventilating, gasping for air. He wrapped both arms around her and crushed her against his chest, cupping the back of her head and stroking her hair, whispering inane, comforting sounds into her ear: “Shh, Misa, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He kept doing this, voice steady, even as she shook to pieces in his arms, until she had tired herself out so much that she could no longer even cry.

When her shivering slowed, L pulled back and kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger on her flushed skin. “You’re not bad, Misa,” he murmured, and she let out a quiet sob. “You’re alright, we’re both alright. I’m not going anywhere. There’s nothing wrong.”

Misa pulled away enough to look at him with bloodshot eyes. “Then why do I feel so bad?” Her whole body felt weak and shaky, like she had exhausted all of her strength in that crying fit.

L didn’t answer, just disentangled himself from her arms and got to his feet next to the bed. She lay there, trembling, as he silently undressed, leaving his suit in a pile on the floor. Misa shivered at the loss of his warmth, but as soon as he was naked, he slid both arms under her body and lifted her into the air. Feeling too weak to protest, Misa let her head fall to his shoulder, closing her eyes, and she shook slightly in the aftermath of her breakdown, barely noticing where they were going until he set her down in his bathtub.

It was quite large, since, as head investigator, he had the deluxe suite. L started the water and climbed in behind her, and as the hot water rose around them, her shivering gradually stopped. She still couldn’t bring herself to speak, but L didn’t ask her to. He just took a cloth and began to clean her body and face, slowly and methodically, cupping water in his hands and releasing it over her skin as they waited for the tub to fill.

He washed her like a child, her body pliant under his care, her eyes red and distant and quiet. Finally, when they were both clean, L pulled Misa’s back to rest against his chest, wrapping his arms around her as he leaned back against the edge of the tub. He held her in silence in the warm water, and while she didn’t move or speak, she adjusted herself, curling up into a ball on his lap, trying to press as much of her skin as possible to his. He stroked her hair with soft, soothing motions. They didn’t speak, and they didn’t leave the tub until the water began to turn cold.

Chapter Text

Misa’s first thought, when her alarm went off, was, I feel like shit.

Between the late night, the wine, and her breakdown, she was exhausted. And today, she had to get up earlier than she had in weeks, so that she could leave L’s bedroom and get herself presentable before Matsuda arrived to pick her up.

L, of course, was already awake when the alarm jolted her out of bed. He looked tired, but then, he always looked tired, especially these days.

Misa wasn’t sure what to say to him. ‘Thank you for taking care of me when I was an absolute trainwreck’? Luckily, he spoke first.

“I suppose this will be our last moment alone before you leave for the film shoot. I’ll see you and Matsuda off when he arrives, and go over guidelines for your time out of the building, but we won’t be able to speak freely. About last night—”

“We can talk about it when I get back,” Misa said quickly, cutting him off.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t talk about it now?” L asked, something urgent in his eyes.

“I really have to go get ready. But I’ll be back by dinner,” Misa responded, meaning: it’s just a few hours. Meaning: nothing is going to happen. Meaning: I’ll be back tonight, and things will be like they’ve always been. L didn’t look convinced. He was staring at her like he wanted to say something, to somehow keep her there. She could feel the tension between them.

She didn’t want to say goodbye, to make a big deal out of it. L was being weird enough about it that he made her nervous, too, but she didn’t have to admit it. Leaving things unsaid felt uncomfortable, but it would be more uncomfortable if she didn’t keep believing that they would have all the time in the world to say them.

Plus, it wasn’t like even she knew why she had gotten so emotional the night before. She knew he wanted an explanation, but there wasn’t really anything she could say.

So, before things could get too serious, Misa gave L a quick kiss on the cheek, saying, “I’ll see you tonight.” He didn’t respond, just touched a hand to his cheek, to the spot where she had kissed him, and watched her with his quiet, dark eyes as she left the room.

It was hard to be excited for her first day of filming when L insisted on being so ominous about it.

Usually, thirty minutes would not be enough time for Misa to get ready for the day, but getting ready for work, whether a modeling job or a film shoot, actually took her less time. When she had the day off, she had to do her own hair and makeup in the morning, but when she had work, she was meant to arrive bare-faced and with her hair untouched so that they could be done professionally. She didn’t even have to choose a nice outfit, since that would be taken care of as well.

So, for once, Misa got ready quite quickly, and when she heard Matsuda’s voice echoing down the hallway, she was actually fully ready to leave. Misa might have a reputation for taking forever to prepare for social events, but she took her work very seriously. She would never show up late for a job.

When she entered the room, L and Matsuda both turned to stare at her for a second. Probably out of surprise at seeing Misa going out in public wearing leggings and a loose t-shirt, her blonde hair hanging loose and her face free of makeup. After all, this was her first time working since her arrest.

L didn’t comment on her appearance, though, and before Matsuda could say anything, L spoke, addressing them both. “Just a few guidelines before you both leave. Matsuda, you are to personally escort Misa between our headquarters and the film set, and keep her within your sight at all times, other than situations where that’s not possible, such as when one of you is in the restroom. In fact, Matsuda, try to limit your bathroom breaks to when Misa is on camera and unable to leave. If Misa wishes to socialize with the rest of the film crew during breaks, that is allowed, as long as Matsuda comes along.”

So strict… And it bothered Misa, a little, for L to speak so coldly about her, like she was nothing but a prisoner, even though she knew that they had to hide their relationship. “Is all that really necessary?” she asked. “I won’t be going anywhere.”

L turned to address her. “That may be, but it’s still a necessary precaution. Misa, as you might expect, you are to stay within sight of Matsuda and not attempt to run off on your own. In addition, while you are out, you cannot have any contact with Light Yagami, in person or otherwise.”

At that, Matsuda glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, as if expecting Misa to complain, but she only nodded. If they had been alone, she might have teased L and asked if he was jealous. But she did understand why, if he believed they had both been Kira, he would want to avoid them contacting each other. It didn’t bother her; seeing Light right now would be too confusing and upsetting, anyway.

A thought occurred to her. “What about socializing after work? With the people from the film, I mean. They might invite me out to eat or get drinks or something.” It might sound trivial, but as an idol, a lot of her jobs came from networking with people in situations like that.

L frowned, considering the idea. “I’ll decide on a case-by-case basis, depending on whether we need Matsuda back here. In any case, I expect to be updated by Matsuda as to when filming ends each day, and if anything prevents the two of you from returning directly to headquarters in a timely fashion, he will need to contact me.”

He was so serious about it all. Misa couldn’t stop herself from giving him a little salute, like he was a drill sergeant. “Sir, yes sir!” she announced sarcastically, but L’s face remained blank.

“Don’t worry, Ryuuzaki!” Matsuda said, a little too energetically as well. “I won’t let you down.” Despite it being a rather simple responsibility, his eyes were shining, showing his eagerness to prove his usefulness to the detective. Misa could understand the feeling.

“Come on, Mr. Matsui,” she said, taking Matsuda’s elbow. “Your prisoner is ready to be transported.” Rolling her eyes, she cast one last glance L’s way before they headed out the door.

Filming a movie turned out to be harder work than Misa had expected! When they finally broke for lunch, she was already exhausted, and there was still an entire afternoon left of filming. At least she would be able to get a few minutes to herself first. Being around so many people for the first time in months was a big shock. So she turned down the invitations to go out for lunch with the rest of the cast and excused herself to the restroom in the hopes of getting a few minutes away from everyone, particularly Matsuda, whose incessant hovering was getting on her nerves.

Thankfully, with everyone gone for lunch, the restroom was deserted. Misa leaned against the counter, taking a deep breath, trying to build up her strength for another few hours of work.

Then something brushed her hand.

A second later, a shadow fell over her. Before Misa could scream, or turn around, an enormous, cold hand covered her mouth.

There it was in the mirror, plain as day, where there had only been empty space before. Looming over Misa. The Reaper. She struggled in the creature’s grip, heart pounding so hard that she felt like she might pass out, eyes wide with terror.

It began to speak, in a voice raspy as death. “Misa, please calm down and listen. I’m your friend, so there’s no need to be frightened.” What?! Misa stared at the creature’s reflection in shock. “If you scream, your guard will enter the room and you might get in trouble with L. I need you to promise not to scream, and to listen to me, and then I’ll release you. Can you promise me that?”

Misa nodded frantically, moving her head as much as the creature’s hand would allow her. After a moment of hesitation, it let go, and she collapsed to the floor.

“What are you?” she whispered, the words strangled in her throat.

“I’m a shinigami,” the creature answered. “My name is Rem. Light Yagami is Kira, and you were the second Kira, before you lost your memories. I was your ally, the one who gave you the power to kill.”

Each word seemed to set off a shock wave in Misa’s body. She wanted to yell, to insist that it couldn’t be true. But what surprised her most was her lack of surprise. It was like she had known this all along, and had just been waiting for someone to remind her.

Slowly, Misa pulled herself up off the floor, using the counter to support her shaking body as she rose to her feet. “I’m going to need you to start at the beginning.”

After explaining how Misa had lost her memories, Rem, at Misa’s insistence, went back and recounted everything she could remember about their time together, from the moment Misa received the notebook up until the moment she was arrested. Misa insisted on hearing every detail, since this was the closest thing she had to a memory of those days. In addition, she demanded that Rem tell her the rules of using the Death Note. (Rem had smiled at that, a little wistfully, and explained that Misa had wanted to know all the rules the first time, too.)

When they got to the point where Misa forfeited her notebook, Rem paused. “What then?” Misa demanded. “Why did Light abandon me? Was it part of his plan?”

It was hard to read the expressions of a shinigami, but from the way Rem avoided her eyes, she didn’t seem to want to answer. But, because Misa asked, she did.

“Light didn’t want you for an ally anymore, since you got caught. He wanted to give the second notebook to someone more predictable and more willing to follow his plans. And I demanded that he help prove your innocence. I helped him to find a new Kira, one that would make the deal for the Eyes, so that L would think they were the second Kira and let you go.”

Anger flashed through Misa. She would have been willing to do anything that Light had asked, but apparently that wasn’t good enough for him. Until this moment, during this conversation, she had harbored hope that he might just be biding his time before returning her notebook to her, but it seemed that he wanted to cut her out altogether.

“Why are you telling me this, then? If you said you would work for Light, and he doesn’t want me involved, then aren’t you supposed to stay away from me?”

“It was taking too long for L to set you free,” Rem explained. “I didn’t have any way of knowing what was happening to you in his custody, so I was starting to worry. I’m also losing faith that Light’s plan will work. Light and I have been making decisions for you, without your input, and it hasn’t gotten you any closer to being free. I thought it would be better to tell you everything, then let you make the decision about what to do next.”

Misa frowned. “If you don’t have a way of knowing what’s happening to me, then how did you even find me today?”

“I am currently possessing the human who owns the second Death Note. I let him believe that I had a fixation on celebrity gossip magazines, just as the shinigami Ryuk loves apples, and he has been buying them for me. I use them to keep up to date on your situation. When I saw that your film would begin shooting today, I thought it was the best time to find you.”

Misa tried to remember the rules of the notebook that Rem had explained to her. “If you’re possessing someone new, don’t you have to stay by their side? How did you get here?”

“After your arrest, Light became paranoid about being associated with another Kira. He has never met the third Kira in person. All of their communication is done via notes which are passed through a complicated system. Light passes them to his girlfriend. She walks by the building where the third Kira works and I take the notes out of her bag and bring them to him. In this way, the third Kira is never seen in the vicinity of either Light or his girlfriend. She can’t even see me, so she doesn’t know how the notes are passed on. As far as she knows, they simply disappear out of her bag at some point on her walk.”

Just the explanation of the lengths to which Light went to pass information to the third Kira while under surveillance made Misa’s head swim. No wonder he had made it so far without getting caught! Misa could never have come up with a plan like that. “Wow, that’s really smart,” she mused aloud. She had almost forgotten, in his absence, just how clever Light could be.

On Rem’s face, she swore she could see the beginnings of a smile. “Not exactly. The problem with that method is that it relies on Light’s belief that he can control me. I can access all of their communication. Light believes I am under his thumb because of my desire to keep you free, but I no longer trust that he will be able to save you. So I forged a note for the third Kira, saying that the messenger needed to vary their route rather than passing by his office building as usual. He is in a cafe nearby, believing that I am retrieving a new message for him. I have been taking longer than needed to pass on the messages in the past, so that he will not suspect anything if I am gone for awhile.”

Everyone involved in this—L, Light, Rem—was so devious that Misa felt quite simple in comparison. Still, maybe if she had more information, she could figure out what to do. “Who is the third Kira?” she asked.

Rem frowned. “The rules of the shinigami realm prevent me from giving you that information directly. But I can give you a hint. Tune into Sakura TV tonight at 8 pm.”

Of course it can’t be that easy. A bolt of anxiety hit her. “Does the third Kira know that Misa was the second Kira?” she asked, her pulse speeding up again.

“Not unless he’s worked it out for himself,” Rem replied. “I haven’t told him, and I have forbidden Light to as well. If Light had included anything about you in the messages, I would have seen it.”

“What about anyone else? Who knows about the Death Notes? Does Light’s girlfriend? Ki… Kiyomi Takada?” Misa knew that Rem couldn’t just tell her the girlfriend’s name, but maybe she could at least confirm it, to make sure that Misa didn’t remember it wrong.

Rem frowned. “As far as I know, only Light, Kiyomi Takada, and the third Kira are aware of the notebooks, and only Light and the third Kira know about shinigami. I don’t know if Light has told Takada about you, though.”

Misa closed her eyes, trying to figure out if she thought Light would tell Takada. There were rumors linking Misa to the second Kira, and she had disappeared shortly after dating Light. If Takada knew that Light was Kira, she could probably put two and two together. Besides, she could picture the conversation easily:

“Why did you agree to date Misa Amane?” Takada would ask. “She doesn’t seem like your type.” At which point, of course, Light would tell her Misa’s true identity. From what Rem had told her, his loyalty to Misa went only as far as avoiding Rem’s anger. If he was alone with Takada, without Rem there, Misa guessed he would tell her.

“If touching this paper from the notebook let me see you, why can’t I remember being Kira? Are my memories gone forever?”

“Light switched the two notebooks after your arrest,” Rem explained. “The third Kira’s notebook originally belonged to Light. For you to get your memories back, you would have to touch your old notebook, the one that’s now in Light’s possession. And even then, you would only remember as long as you were touching it, unless you became the new owner somehow.”

“So even if I got ownership of the third Kira’s notebook, my memories wouldn’t return?”

“That’s correct. A piece of the Death Note contains the full power of the notebook, so if you could get your memories back from the third Kira’s notebook, you would have remembered when I touched you with this piece of paper. However, Light has owned both notebooks, so his memories are tied to both.”

“So the only way to get my memories back would be to somehow convince Light to return my old notebook to me, or else to steal it from him. Do you know where it is?”

“Unfortunately, I do not,” Rem said. “Light is aware that he is under surveillance by L, so he has been letting the third Kira carry out judgments alone while Light tries to prove his innocence. Your original notebook is hidden somewhere, but only Light and Ryuk know where it is, and I doubt Light will return to its hiding place as long as L is watching him. He still owns the notebook, but as far as I know, he has not been using it.” Rem sighed. “I think Light has withheld the knowledge of its location from me on purpose. He still doesn’t entirely trust me.”

Misa had just opened her mouth to respond when they were interrupted.

“Misa-Misa!” Matsuda’s voice called from outside. Misa jerked, ice-water flooding her veins. Within seconds, her heart was beating so fast that she couldn’t think straight. She felt like she might pass out. Did he know what she was doing, somehow? Had L figured it out and tipped him off? Was she about to be arrested again?

Her worries turned out to be unfounded when he continued speaking. “You’ve been in there for so long. Is everything okay?”

Misa let out a shaky laugh, closing her eyes in relief. She fought to keep her voice steady as she yelled back, “Misa is having lady problems! You wouldn’t believe how much blood there is! I got it all over the stall, so I have to clean it up! I might be in here awhile!” She made sure to include as many graphic details as she could, hoping that Matsuda would be disgusted enough to leave her alone.

It seemed to work. “Oh, I’m s-s-sorry,” he stuttered, sounding quite startled. “Should I tell the director you’re not feeling well?”

“It’s fine!” she called. “I’ll be out before the lunch break ends!”

Slowly, trying to calm her racing heart, Misa turned back to Rem. “There are so many rules, it’s hard to keep track. But I think I understand.” She frowned. “But I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do now.”

Rem’s eyes were so intensely focused on her that she was reminded briefly of L. “Anything you want, Misa. I will support you, no matter what you choose. If you want me to kill L to set you free, I can do it. Or I can kill the third Kira and give you his notebook. I could kill Light as well; it doesn’t matter to me. Or you can ask me to leave you alone forever, if you’d rather go back to the way things were before.”

Misa was twirling on her hair as she thought, and at Rem’s words, she tugged a little in frustration. “Now that I know I was the second Kira, I can’t exactly go back to how things were before,” she said with a frown. “Unless I can give up my memories again?”

There was a long pause before Rem spoke again. “I apologize for burdening you, Misa. If you want to forget again, you would have to become the owner of the third Kira’s Death Note, use it to kill at least once, and then forfeit it again. It would be difficult, but I might be able to convince him to temporarily relinquish ownership if I fake a note from the original Kira…”

Misa’s head was spinning, so she decided to move on. “What if I want to go back to working with Light?” she demanded. “Would you help me get the notebook back so I could become Kira’s ally again?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Misa,” Rem said, forcing the words out as if she didn’t want to answer at all. “Light Yagami is not someone you should be involved with anymore.”

“I thought you said you would do anything I wanted?” Misa put her hands on her hips.

“I suppose,” Rem responded with a weary sigh. “Is that really what you want?”

Misa leaned against the counter again, shoulders hunched. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t know what I want. I just want to know what my options are.”

Rem rested a hand on Misa’s shoulder. To her surprise, despite the shinigami’s fearsome appearance, Misa felt comforted. Maybe she should have suspected that this was some kind of trap set by Light, that Rem was just tricking her. Without her memories, there was no way for her to confirm anything the shinigami told her. But Misa trusted her instincts, and from the moment Rem had appeared, some part of her had known that she could trust her.

“Rem, you know the person I was before better than I do. What did I want? What was my plan, before I gave up the notebook?”

“The day you were arrested, Light had arranged for you to meet L. You were going to use your Shinigami Eyes to see his real name and give it to Light so that he could kill him. But as soon as you walked away after meeting L, he had you arrested, and you weren’t able to tell Light his name. You wanted to help Light defeat L and become the goddess of his new world.”

Misa should have expected something like that, but she still felt shocked at how close she had come to killing L. She had even known his real name.

“L has been holding you captive, right?” Rem asked, something burning in her eyes. “Has he hurt you?”

Before Misa could stop herself, she found herself telling Rem everything that had happened since her arrest. She had spent so long wishing for a friend that would listen to her confused feelings about L that she didn’t really mind if that friend was eight feet tall and made of bone.

When she finished, Rem was frowning. “Sounds like this L was taking advantage of your amnesia to manipulate you. I don’t trust him.”

Misa felt like she needed to defend L. “You don’t even know him! It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” Rem leaned closer, looming over her. “Think, Misa. You were on the verge of taking his life when he had you arrested. In his mind, he probably thinks it’s fine to manipulate you, since he’s defending himself. You can’t trust him. He’s just trying to lure you off your guard so that he can catch you and Light.”

“I thought you didn’t even like Light,” Misa protested weakly.

“I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I’m on L’s side, either. If he gets proof that you were the second Kira, he won’t hesitate to send you to your execution. You can’t trust him or believe the things that he says. He’s just as devious as Light, and as soon as he gets the chance, he’ll turn against you.”

Misa didn’t know what to say. She wanted to argue, to say that L wasn’t like that, but how well did she really know him? She had always known that his number one priority was to catch Kira. Now that she knew that he was right about her, did she really think he would let her get away with her crimes just because they had some sort of intimate relationship? And Rem really did seem to have her best interests at heart. Maybe Misa was too naive to see the truth.

She just wanted one person that she knew she could trust, that she wouldn’t have to doubt. First, she had thought that person was Light, then it had been L. Now, she was forced to face the possibility that neither of them had cared about her to begin with. Was Rem the only person she could rely on? It was all too confusing.

“I don’t know,” Misa admitted, looking at the ground. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know.”

“No matter what you decide, I will help you to carry it out,” Rem said, voice firm. “Every power I have is at your disposal, Misa.”

Misa let out a long, slow breath. “I need time to think,” she finally said. “I can’t decide anything right away. Can we meet again?”

Rem paused, considering. “I don’t think I can bring the third Kira near your film set too many times without making him suspicious, and you’re always watched at the headquarters, right?” Misa nodded. She wasn’t sure how many hour-long bathroom breaks she could take without provoking Matsuda’s suspicions, either. “I could probably risk one more meeting here in the next few days. If we need to meet again after that, we might need to wait a few weeks to avoid suspicion.”

How much time would it take Misa to make a decision? How much time could pass before the third Kira, or Light, discovered Rem’s betrayal? She decided to play it safe. “Three days, then. Meet me in this same bathroom three days from now. I’ll make up my mind before then.”

Rem nodded gravely, and Misa reached up, clasping the monstrous hand that rested on her shoulder. “Thank you, Miss Shinigami.”

“Be safe, Misa Amane,” Rem responded. The next moment, she faded through the wall, leaving Misa alone once more.

Luckily, Matsuda seemed to accept Misa’s excuse without too much trouble, and though she struggled to keep her mind off of everything she had learned, Misa was a professional. By the end of the day, she had managed to throw herself into the role so far that everything else had sunk to the back of her mind.

Of course, as Matsuda drove them back to headquarters, it all came rushing back. Misa slumped over in the passenger seat and pretended to be asleep to discourage him from talking to her. She needed to think.

Misa wasn’t the same girl who had left the hotel this morning. The innocent Misa who had been with L was gone. She felt older, somehow, like she had aged a decade in the past few hours, leaving the Misa from this morning in the past. Now that she knew she was the second Kira, she couldn’t easily go back. But, at the same time, she was no longer the same Misa who had belonged to Light. Not without her memories, at least, and even if she somehow regained them, she might still find herself changed.

Misa mourned for them, for both of the people she had once been. Though she couldn’t remember, she knew things must have been so simple, back when she knew without a doubt who she was and what side she was on: Kira’s. She didn’t have to be confused or wonder what to do. She could just follow his orders. And then, for the past few months, she had been free of the strain of being Kira. She had been able to believe that she was just a harmless girl, that her support of Kira didn’t matter, that it couldn’t hurt anyone.

Those Misas were gone, leaving behind this strange hybrid, this in-between creature. She didn’t know who she should be anymore, or even who she could be.

She almost wished that Rem had kept her distance, had allowed her to stay in her state of ignorance. But she knew from her breakdown the night before that that state hadn’t been sustainable. She could recognize now, looking back over the past few weeks, that she had been collapsing under the weight of the contradictions she carried inside of her. At least now she was whole. At least now Misa Amane made sense again.

When they pulled into the underground parking deck, Misa allowed herself to stir, slowly, like she was coming out of a deep sleep. She continued playing tired, yawning and stretching with exaggerated movements as Matsuda led her back into the building.

The first day of filming had run late, and the other men had already gone home for the day, but L was still sitting in front of the computers in the main room, watching their approach. When Matsuda and Misa entered the room, L spun around in his chair, and the moment they made eye contact, intuition hit Misa like a bolt of lightning: He knew. Just from one glance into her eyes, L knew that the Misa he had known was gone. That his Misa had gone out into the world that morning, and someone else had come back in her place, wearing her skin.

Misa froze on the spot, holding her breath, waiting to see if he would confront her. But L merely nodded. “Thank you for escorting Misa, Matsuda. There is dinner in the kitchen if either of you are hungry.” Without waiting for an answer, he rotated his chair again, turning his back to them.

But there was no doubt in Misa’s mind. L knew.

Chapter Text

Luckily, Misa didn’t have to ask L to turn on Sakura TV that night. Apparently there was a big pro-Kira rally going on, so he had already planned to watch. All that she had to do was sit in a chair and pretend not to be interested. Matsuda had gone home, so it was just the two of them left. They sat in uncomfortable silence, several feet apart, until the rally began.

Misa glanced up at the screen, trying to look only idly curious. She wondered what she was supposed to be looking for. Rem had only told her to watch, not what to expect. Would it be obvious when she saw it? Or was there some secret message she would have to figure out?

It turned out that she needn’t have worried. The moment the rally began, she understood what Rem had meant. Misa fought to control her expression, to avoid looking shocked, as the camera panned down to Teru Mikami… and the shinigami floating in the air behind him.

Misa couldn’t help but steal a glance at L. She knew that he couldn’t see Rem, but it was hard to internalize that. Rem was so big, and stood out so prominently among the people on the screen, that it seemed impossible anyone could miss her.

Well, she had the information she had been looking for. Rem wouldn’t try to convey any messages to her this way, not when Light was sure to be watching. And she doubted she would learn much from listening to Mikami speak. Or maybe these were all just excuses, rationalizations that she told herself, when the truth was that she wasn’t sure she could bear one more second in L’s presence.

“I’m worn out from filming,” Misa announced, standing up from her chair. “I think I’m going to go to bed early tonight. In my own room, so I can get more rest.”

She was halfway to the door when L spoke. “Misa?”

“Yes?” Misa froze in place, still with her back to him.

“I spoke to Matsuda while you were eating… He said that you spent almost an hour alone in the restroom during your lunch break.”

There it was. She had been wondering if he was going to comment on it or not. She knew it must look suspicious, especially since it was her first day being allowed out of the building. Still, there was nothing she could do now except stick to the story. “Yes, I got my period out of nowhere, and had to clean it up. I don’t wanna talk about it too much, since it’s kind of gross.”

L just hummed in response, and she stood there in silence, waiting for him to speak. She was just about to continue walking when he said, “Misa has never asked Watari to buy her feminine hygiene products or shown any signs of menstruating during the months she’s been at this building. Given this information, along with the fact that Misa has an IUD, I assumed her menstrual cycles were extremely light or non-existent.”

Misa’s heart caught in her throat. He was right, of course. She hadn’t had a period in over three years thanks to the hormones in her IUD. The lie about her period had been the first thing that came to mind in the moment. It had seemed like a good strategy because she assumed that, as a typical man, Matsuda would feel uncomfortable talking about her period and not ask too many questions.

But she hadn’t taken into account the fact that Matsuda would be questioned by L, who had very few topics he felt uncomfortable talking about, had a much more intimate knowledge of Misa’s body, and who, despite his lack of experience with women, seemed to have much more knowledge of female reproductive health than the average man.

How could she talk her way out of this? She could double-down on the lie, or she could come up with something even more embarrassing and claim the period lie was covering it up. In general, a good way to lie was to come up with something embarrassing, personal, or gross to discourage the other person from asking questions, which was what she had been trying to do with Matsuda, but she wasn’t sure if it would work on L.

Well, it was probably a better option than insisting she was actually on her period, since that was too easy for L to check for himself. She wouldn’t put it past him to actually check her trash for tampons. “You’re right,” she admitted with a sigh. “I was trying to avoid talking about it, and I don't want to go into the details, but I was having stomach problems and couldn’t get off the toilet. I think I ate something that made me sick, or maybe I was just nervous about the first day of filming. I didn’t want to yell that to Matsuda for everyone to hear, so I lied and said I was on my period.” She paused. Might as well use the excuse, now that she had it. “To be honest, that’s why I’m going to bed early. I’m still not really feeling well, so I think I should sleep alone tonight.”

“Right,” he said, sounding skeptical. Still facing the doorway, she heard him climb off of his chair and make his way over to her. She couldn’t move; she felt like a fly caught in a spiderweb. Finally, when his hand fell on her shoulder, she glanced back and met his eyes.

“Misa,” he said, dropping all pretense. “If something happened, something to do with Kira, you can tell me. I could help. Don’t you trust me by now?”

Rem’s voice echoed in her head. “If he gets proof that you were the second Kira, he won’t hesitate to send you to your execution. You can’t trust him or believe the things that he says. He’s just as devious as Light, and as soon as he gets the chance, he’ll turn against you.”

“Yes, of course I trust you,” Misa lied, a forced smile on her face. “It’s really nothing. I just want to be alone for awhile.”

Her heart pounded as she waited to see if he would challenge her, but he just looked at her, as quiet and infuriatingly calm as ever. Part of her wished that he would lash out, that he would scream and accuse her. He had to know that she was lying, right? But he only nodded. “Goodnight, Misa.”

When she returned to her room, Misa sat herself on the side of the bed and stared blankly at the wall. She felt a weariness that left her beyond even emotion. The only feeling she had left was exhaustion.

So, Teru Mikami is the third Kira. It wasn’t much of a surprise. The first time Misa saw him, she had thought that he reminded her of Light. He must have been acting as Kira even back then. He was the perfect option, really. He shared Light’s ideals and was similar in age and background, so he could confuse L’s profile. He was entirely devoted to Kira’s cause, so he would probably do anything that Light said, including making the Eye Deal to draw suspicion away from Misa.

Light really had the perfect set-up: Mikami and Takada were smart, willing to follow his every order, and each only had part of the full story. Takada knew Light’s identity, and the third Kira’s rough location, but couldn’t see the shinigami. Mikami knew how the Death Note worked, but not who Light and Takada were. Rem knew almost everything, except for the location of Light’s Death Note. Light and Ryuk were the only ones who had the whole story. Misa had access to all of Rem’s knowledge, but she couldn’t see a way to find the location of the notebook containing her memories without Light’s permission.

He had done well for himself since he had taken Misa out of the equation, leaving her on the sidelines for good. Even if she wanted to go back to him, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t just erase her memories and send her away again. Though, at least Rem wouldn’t let him kill her.

Misa had been important to Kira, once, because she’d had the Eyes. But Mikami had neatly replaced her, made her irrelevant.

The question was, where would she go from here?

When Misa left the room, L finally let his jaw unclench and his shoulders drop. He should have been focusing on the rally on the television, but it was too much, all of a sudden, and he turned the screen off. Returning to his usual crouching position on his chair, he let his head fall forward to rest on his knees, chest pressed to his thighs, curling himself into a ball.

Matsuda had kept his eye on Misa the entire day, except for her suspiciously long bathroom break. And yes, L was pretty sure she was hiding something; she was a good liar, but he could tell she was trying to put him off questioning her more thoroughly by coming up with the story about stomach troubles. But even then, Matsuda had spoken to her, to confirm that she was still in the restroom and hadn’t somehow snuck off. Whatever she had been up to, she hadn’t left the area.

L had been so careful. All day, he had watched Light on the hidden cameras when he was home, and his hired men hadn’t let Light out of their sight for a second the rest of the time. L had been beyond paranoid, calling them every hour to check. Light hadn’t gone anywhere but campus and home all day.

Light shouldn’t have had any opportunity to even contact Misa, much less to do something to her. And yet. Though, if Misa had been changed somehow while blindfolded and restrained under security cameras in L’s custody, maybe it wasn’t so surprising that Light had found a way to get to her while she was in a restroom across town and he was under surveillance in a political science class. But if that was the case, why today? If Light wasn’t restricted by time and space, then surely this could have happened while Misa was still in the task force building? It couldn’t be a coincidence that this had happened on Misa’s first day out.

L didn’t even know what had happened, or how Light had done it. All he knew was that Misa had changed on some fundamental level since the last time he had seen her. He wasn’t going to bother second-guessing himself on that one. He didn’t need to be able to convince anyone else, so for L’s purposes, it was enough that he could sense she was somehow different, even if he couldn’t explain how.

Ignoring his instincts was what had gotten him in this situation in the first place. L had been certain that something bad would happen if Misa left, but he ignored that feeling because he thought he was experiencing unwarranted anxiety due to his romantic feelings for her. But he had been right all along. He had been so close, after last night, to breaking Misa’s walls down. She was opening up to him, learning to trust him. He had almost allowed himself to believe that he could get her on his side.

And now, after only a few hours apart, everything had changed. The walls around her had reappeared. He couldn’t reach her anymore. He didn’t know how he had done it, but he was certain this was the work of Light Yagami. Of Kira.

Damn him.

He had justified letting Misa out of the restraints, and getting close to her, because she was practically harmless if she didn’t even know that she had been the second Kira. He no longer had that excuse. She was already lying to him, hiding something. For all that he knew, she could have gone to her room to kill him. This situation couldn’t continue.

All that work, and this was what L was left with. A few good weeks of memories that would be inevitably tainted when Misa turned on him. Now he would have to find out if he could harden his heart enough to take her down before she took his life. He had known from the start that this was a dangerous game, but he hadn’t realized how much it would hurt to lose, to look in the eyes of the woman he had grown to care about knowing that she might kill him at any moment.

Before L knew it, he was shaking, choking for air. For a second, he thought she had already decided to kill him, that his heart was seconds away from stopping. But luckily, enough of his critical thinking remained intact for him to realize that this was an anxiety attack. He had them somewhat regularly, though it had been a long time since he had one this bad.

L tried his best to breathe through it, burying his face in his knees and biting the inside of his cheek to keep quiet. He felt the walls closing in on him, but it was all in his mind. He just had to remember that. He listed prime numbers in his head. Both of his hands gripped his own hair so tightly it hurt.

As L’s breathing began to slow, he felt a hand settle gently in the center of his back, and his whole body jolted in shock. He looked up, expecting so strongly to see Misa that it took him a second to make out the sight of Watari looking down at him. The old man’s face was calm—he had spent enough time with L to know how to handle him when he was like this—but L couldn’t help but resent him. If Watari tried to say that he had warned him about Misa, that he should have known better, L thought he would scream. He had already thrown those same accusations at himself. He didn’t need it from Watari, too.

Thankfully, his handler knew better than that. “I’ll bring you a cup of tea,” he said, quietly, and L had to swallow back a feeling of gratitude so sharp it was almost painful.

As Watari left the room again, L returned to the problem at hand, hoping that he could come up with a plan now that he was calmer. If Misa was the second Kira again, she could kill him at any moment. But she hadn’t, not yet, and she had returned to the building rather than trying to go back to Light. All L really knew was that she was different, but he didn’t know what she wanted or what she was planning. He could put her back into restraints, but he wasn’t totally sure she couldn’t find a way to kill while restrained if she really wanted to. And if she wasn’t planning to kill him, at least not yet, putting her back in restraints might provoke her into changing her mind.

No, she could still lead him to Kira. He shouldn’t act hastily. L would wait, would keep watching her and see what her first move would be.

But he would keep his distance as well. He had gotten too close to her, put everything on the line in his hopes of turning her, and he was paying the price now. It shouldn’t be too hard to avoid her, since he found her presence almost painful now.

Truth be told, L wasn’t entirely sure if he was being honest with himself about his motivations for holding back. Maybe, in the end, he just couldn’t bear to be the one that struck first. If he turned on her too soon, before she did something so clearly Kira-like that he was forced to give up hope, he would spend the rest of his life wondering if things could have been different. If Misa might have proven him wrong if he’d given her a chance.

This hesitation might be his downfall in the end. But he still couldn’t give it up.

After that tense conversation, L didn’t question her again. Misa was glad that L wasn’t interested in interrogating her the way that he would with Light. Sure, she was a good actress in general, but with how close they had become to each other, she didn’t believe that she could trick him that easily. Luckily, he wasn’t trying to question her, or catch her in a lie, or make her spend a lot of time playing innocent around him.

He didn’t seem to see the need. To her, it felt like: he knew that she was Kira, and she knew that he knew, and so there was no need for him to play games with her or for her to try to throw him off her trail. Plus, she wasn’t even doing anything, so the knowledge couldn’t help him much. The only thing it did was ruin the easy comfort that had existed between them.

Misa dealt with that by avoiding being alone with L, and she was relieved that he let her. She didn’t have to make up excuses for why she had stopped sleeping in his bed, or seeking his company out at the end of the day. He already knew, so what was the point?

She spent each day lost in thought, even while painting her nails or pretending to read magazines. The only respite was when she was filming, when she was able to be someone else for a few hours. But no matter how much time she spent thinking, she never got anywhere. It was enough to make her wish that Rem had just left her alone.

Misa wasn’t cut out for doing things by herself. Even when she first got the Death Note, from what Rem said, her entire goal had been to find Kira and turn herself over to his command. Misa wasn’t the kind of person who liked to handle this type of responsibility on her own.

Did she still believe in Kira’s mission? Sometimes, she felt like she did. And she was in Kira’s debt for avenging her family. If that was the case, then she should get in contact with Light and offer to help him take down L from the inside, or else to let him erase her memories again.

Or maybe he would prefer if she just stayed out of it entirely? She didn’t want to get Rem in trouble, either. But on the other hand, she was closer to L than anyone else had gotten. She could be useful to Kira.

But what if she had been on the wrong side to start with? The past few weeks had helped her to see things from L’s perspective for a change. Maybe she should turn herself in. She could go to L, tell him everything that Rem had told her, and then he could decide what to do. He was smarter than her, and he was the one trying to bring Kira down. She knew he could handle it. All Misa had to do was tell him everything, and then it would be out of her hands.

Misa didn’t know anymore if she wanted Kira to win or lose. What she wanted, more than anything, was to not be responsible for this. To have someone else, someone smarter than her, someone more serious and mature, sit her down and listen to the whole thing and make the decision for her. She barely cared if that person was Light or L, as long as she didn’t have to bear the weight of it anymore.

And what about her relationship with L? Could she really betray him, after everything they had shared? Misa had always thought of herself as a loyal person.

Then again, the old Misa, the one who was loyal to Light, would have done it without a second thought. She would have happily infiltrated L’s operation, seduced him, and convinced him to care about her, just so she could destroy him for Kira. And it was so tempting to become that Misa again. The world she lived in had been so much simpler.

Besides, now that she knew that L had been right all along, about her and Light, she had to wonder how much of their relationship had been real. Light had led her on so that he could use her as a weapon against L. Had L only gotten involved with her so he could use her against Light? What if he had been manipulating her all along? He had always been so agreeable, so eager to please, to tell Misa what she wanted to hear. Was he really like that? Was anybody? Or was he just trying to win her trust so that he could destroy her, and Light along with her?

What if she stayed loyal to L, refused to betray him, only to find out he had just been biding his time before he turned on her? She was the second Kira. Of course he could never love her. Of course he was just waiting to lead her to her execution. Maybe, this whole time, he was laughing behind her back at how stupid Misa was to trust him. And when he revealed that he had tricked her, Light would hate her even more for letting L use her against him, and Misa would have no one at all.

The next two nights, L didn’t sleep a wink. He still went to bed, a habit he had fallen into while sleeping with Misa, but all he did was lay alone in his bed and stare at the ceiling until dawn, certain that each moment would be his last. Just waiting there, as if frozen, for his heart to stop. His heartbeat pounding in his ears began to sound like the tolling of a bell.

As the days went by, though, and his heart continued beating, L started to feel as though he understood his situation. It seemed, at least from his perspective, to be a textbook example of the Prisoner’s Dilemma.

The concept of the Prisoner’s Dilemma, one of the best known examples of game theory, is as follows: two people have been arrested. Unable to communicate with each other, they must choose either to keep silent (cooperate) or to rat each other out (defect). If they both cooperate, they will only serve one year in prison each. If they both defect, they will serve two years each. But if one defects, and the other cooperates, the first person will go free, while the second will spend three years in prison.

L was left in the dark, trying to predict Misa’s next move so that he could make his own, unable to communicate honestly about their situation. If they both chose to cooperate, they might both escape with their lives, and could even take down Kira together. But if L chose to cooperate, and Misa chose to defect, he would die, and Kira would win.

However, L didn’t want to make the first move. If he chose to defect, he might still defeat Kira, but all hope of cooperation would vanish. He would never know if Misa might have chosen to cooperate. He would spend the rest of his life wondering if he had turned against her when it wasn’t actually necessary. And, even if he won, Misa would be executed.

Of course, L couldn’t tell what Misa was thinking or planning. For all he knew, she saw the situation totally differently. But every morning that he woke up to find himself still alive, he grew more suspicious that Misa was in the exact same trap as him. If she really wanted to defect, why would she be hesitating? If there was no hope of cooperation, shouldn’t he be dead already?

Unless, of course, this was all part of some larger plan she had cooked up with Light, and L was falling right into their trap.

The frustrating part was being unable to tell if it was just wishful thinking on his part, if his judgment had been compromised by their close relationship. But some part of L suspected that Misa hadn’t defected yet because she didn’t want to. She might want the same thing as him: a situation in which they both chose to cooperate. And, like him, she couldn’t express that due to her fear that he would use her cooperation as a chance to defect, to use her trust to score a victory against her.

So, if Misa wasn’t going to act first, L had two choices. He could put her back in restraints, which would likely erase any possibility that she would cooperate, but would also keep himself safe from being killed by her. That strategy was one of caution, of minimizing risk to himself. Or he could take a leap of faith and play his hand first, showing that he was willing to trust her, to cooperate, even if it meant risking his life and giving her the opportunity to stab him in the back. High risk, high reward.

Or, of course, he could just let himself be paralyzed by the hopelessness of his situation and continue to do nothing. That option sounded pretty likely. If he could just think, maybe he could figure out what to do. But the damn bells ringing in his ears wouldn’t let up long enough.

By the third night, Misa still felt no closer to making a decision, and she felt a growing sense of despair.

The one step that she had managed to take was preparing for her next conversation with Rem. She had spoken to Rem during the lunch break on her first day of filming, and she would see her again on the fourth. On the second day, she had accepted the offer of the other cast members to go out for lunch, so that Matsuda wouldn’t think she was always hanging around the film set for no reason. The third day, she had told Matsuda that she wanted to prepare for her next scene over lunch, and spent the hour going over the script under his supervision.

She had made a plan for how to talk to Rem in a less suspicious way tomorrow, so that Matsuda wouldn’t have anything to report to L. She had laid the groundwork for it. The problem was, she still didn’t know what she would say to her.

Would she have to face Rem tomorrow, only to admit that she had no idea what she wanted or what she should do? Ask her to wait another few weeks and hope that L or Light didn’t figure out what she had been up to or find a way to keep her and Rem apart?

No, she couldn’t handle any more of this stress. She would make a decision by tomorrow, even if it meant asking Rem to decide for her.

By this time tomorrow, then, everything could be over. Depending on what she chose, this might be her last chance to be with L. They had been avoiding each other by unspoken agreement the past few days, and she didn’t think it was a wise decision to break that pact, but she couldn’t just leave things like this. The idea of never being with him again made her heart ache.

Even if he had been using her, even if they might be enemies tomorrow, she could try to pretend, for one more night, that things could be like they had been before.

That was, if he didn’t turn her away at the door. She hadn’t so much as touched him since the first day of filming. She had felt like any contact between them might break her fragile sense of stability. Still, the only thing worse than trying would be not trying, so when the sun set, she found herself at his door, heart pounding.

L answered the door at her knock, stepped aside to let her enter his room, but he didn’t speak, and his eyes were wary. He looked even more tired than usual, like he hadn’t slept in days. When she reached for him, he actually flinched, closing his eyes as though he expected her to strike him, but he made no move to defend himself. When she cupped his cheek instead, he made a small, half-pained noise in his throat.

Misa moved up against him in one instant, rising up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips, her body flush against his. For a moment, L was rigid against her, not even kissing back, and she steeled herself for a rejection, but then his mouth opened and he pulled her against him crushingly tight, kissing her like he would never get another chance. Which might not be entirely inaccurate.

There was no tenderness between them this time, only raw need and desperation. Misa couldn’t stop letting out small noises into L’s mouth, halfway between moans and sobs, and he was clutching her hard enough that she thought she might bruise. She didn’t care about that. She didn’t care about anything anymore. She let herself be pulled off the ground, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, and he carried her to his bed, barely pulling away enough to see where he was going.

L threw her down onto his bed more roughly than he would have before, but Misa didn’t complain, just pulled her own clothes off as quickly as possible in her desire to have his body back against hers. She wanted everything, all at once, so she wasn’t even sure where to start, but at the sight of his hands undoing his belt buckle, she leaned forward until she was lying on her stomach, propped up on her elbows in front of him. He fumbled his pants open quickly, freeing his cock, and when he pressed forward, she opened her mouth without hesitation, closing her eyes as he slipped past her lips.

As Misa pressed her tongue flat against the underside of L’s cock, he let out a sharp hiss and a quiet, “Fuck,” hips bucking forward into her mouth. She could feel the frustration, the need, in his movements, and she did her best to suppress her gag reflex, swallowing around his length as he moved forward in harsh, jerky motions. When he bottomed out, her lips hitting the base, he groaned and she hollowed her cheeks, holding her breath.

L reached down, grabbing Misa rather roughly by the hair, and she moaned around him, but he only used the grip to pull her off of him. He scrambled to free himself from the last of his clothing and join her on the bed, his eyes dark, following her every movement.

Something in L’s eyes unnerved her, and after a moment, Misa realized what it was. He still wanted her, he still cared for her, but he didn’t trust her. He didn’t feel safe with her anymore. And he was probably correct to feel that way.

Misa had never been on top before, not unless sitting in his lap in the computer chair counted, but she shoved L onto his back and straddled him in one confident, easy motion, like she had been doing it for years. When she sank down on him, taking him inside of her, and began to move, L sucked in a sharp breath, but he didn’t take his eyes off of her. In his eyes, she saw lust, but also something that resembled fear, like he didn’t even recognize her anymore. She couldn’t take being looked at in that way, so she gently draped her hand over his eyes for a second. He must have understood, because when she pulled it away, he had closed his eyes for her.

Riding L was a revelation. Without needing to be in control, L was completely lost in her. He had always been vocal and needy, but this time, he was practically writhing under her, tossing his head back, fingers clenching her thighs hard enough to bruise. He didn’t try to direct her movements, just held on to her like a drowning man clutching for purchase.

Misa rode him hard and fast, one hand on his chest to support herself, the other rubbing her clit. She came with a sharp cry, and when L followed her, his whole body tensed up underneath her and he let out a choked sob, somewhere between pain and pleasure.

It’s all wrong, Misa found herself thinking, even in the aftershocks of her climax, looking down at the man beneath her. It’s all gone wrong.

She wished that she could bring back the Misa who was innocent, who could trust L, who wouldn’t hurt him. She wished she could be that person for him, instead of whatever she was now, whatever monster was under her skin. Kira.

Misa wanted to cry for what they had lost. Even if he had been using her, even if he was going to betray her in the end, just like she was thinking of betraying him now—maybe it would have been worth it, if she could have stayed with him in that space until the end. If she could have still trusted him blindly until the moment he turned on her. She could have been happy for just a little while longer.

Misa stayed in L’s bed that night. He didn’t ask her to leave, but he didn’t hold her, either. He just laid on his side, knees tucked to his chest, staring at the wall. The look in his eyes twisted something deep in her chest. She felt like she was drowning.

Eventually, she slept.

When Misa next woke, in the middle of the night, she was alone in the bed. L was gone.

Chapter Text

“L?” Misa called out into the darkness. “Are you there?” No answer. She flipped on the lamp and got up to check the bathroom and the kitchenette, but the suite was empty. She knew that L had insomnia, and that he often kept strange hours, but something felt off. Would he have just left without even waking her up? And the way he had acted earlier had been so unsettling.

Pulling on her tank top and skirt again, but not bothering with her shoes, Misa walked out into the hallway. The lights were on, but there was no sign of life in the building. No noises, no movement. She was starting to get scared.

Misa conducted a methodical search of all the places she thought L might be: the main room where the task force worked, the kitchen, even her own room, though she didn’t know why he would go there without her. There was no sign of him. She would have even been glad to run into Watari, as much as the old man bothered her, but she wasn’t so lucky.

A flash of light lit up the sky outside, through the window, and seconds later came a crash of thunder, making Misa jump. She felt like she was in a horror movie. It was funny: she was apparently a serial killer, the type of person they made horror movies about. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was really just the dumb blonde who got killed off in the first act. She shot nervous looks around the corners and behind curtains as she made her way through the hotel, certain that a monster would emerge at any moment.

The only monster in her life was Rem, though, and funnily enough, she would have felt much braver with the shinigami by her side.

Misa was running out of ideas of where to look when she reached the door at the top of the stairwell. She had never been up here before, but from the rain that lashed against the small window in the door, she guessed it must lead to the roof. More out of curiosity than anything, she approached the window and peered outside.

There were a few scattered lights on the roof. Though dimmed by the rain, they illuminated the area just enough for her to make out the figure standing out there all alone: L. The sight was so unexpected and strange that her breath caught in her throat. He held no umbrella, just stood there with his head tilted back, hair and clothes already completely soaked by the rain. He looked so small, all of a sudden. Just a speck in the middle of the violent storm. She wondered how long he had been there before she found him.

As soon as she opened the door, Misa knew it wouldn’t be possible to communicate from far away. There was no way he would hear her over the rain. She could go back inside for an umbrella, but she didn’t know where they were kept and the wind would probably make it useless, anyway. Besides, she didn’t know if she could leave L out here all alone, even for the time it would take to get an umbrella. So, bracing herself, she walked outside into the rain.

By the time Misa reached L’s side, she was completely drenched. She hadn’t dressed for this, and her bare arms and legs were already freezing, causing her to tremble. He didn’t look away from the sky, not even when she put her hand on his arm.

“What are you doing out here, L?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing worth mentioning. It’s just… Do you hear them?”

“Hear what?” Misa looked around, wondering what he was referring to. All that she saw was dark sky. All that she heard was the pounding rain.

“The bells. They’re so loud today.”

Misa shivered, both from the cold and the way that L was talking. What an unnerving answer. Carefully, she said, “I don’t hear anything.”

L still wasn’t looking at her, just staring off into the distance. “Really? You can't hear them? They’ve been ringing incessantly all day. I find it… very distracting. I can't stop thinking about it. I wonder if it's a church. Maybe a wedding, or perhaps a—”

L trailed off into silence, and Misa was suddenly glad. She didn’t think she wanted to hear the end of that sentence. She tightened her grip on his arm, staring up at him solemnly. The rain ran in rivers down his face, flattening his usually wild hair down. He looked fragile, almost feminine, his dark eyes too big for his face. Misa was beginning to feel so very frightened, but L looked to be in an even worse state than her.

The past few days, Misa had felt small and lost, uncertain of everything and everyone. All that she had wanted was to give up, to let someone else take care of everything. Someone strong and smart, like L or Light. But maybe L was just as lost as she was. Maybe L needed her to be strong, instead of the other way around. And hadn’t Misa always believed that she was strongest when helping someone she cared about? She took a deep breath and set her shoulders.

“I can’t hear anything over the rain. But just because I can’t hear them doesn’t mean they aren’t there. If you say they’re loud, I believe you.”

A long pause, and then he finally turned to look to her, forehead creased as if becoming aware of her presence for the first time. “Why are you out here, Misa?” he asked.

“I was looking for you. I woke up, and you were gone.”

“You found me,” he said, voice quiet. She trembled slightly, and he gave her a concerned look, taking in her bare skin. “You shouldn’t be out in the rain like this. You must be cold.”

“I am,” she responded, but she didn’t move, just looked up into his wide, unblinking eyes.

“You should go back inside,” L said, trying to shake her hand from his arm, but she dug in her fingers and refused to let go.

“Not without you,” Misa insisted. “I’m not moving. If you’re staying out here, so am I.”

She walked forward into him until her head was tucked under his chin, heedless of the rain soaking both of their clothes. Wrapping both arms around his skinny waist, she squeezed hard, pressing her face into his wet chest. She held him tightly, as though she thought that, without her to anchor him, he might float away. For a moment, he seemed unsure of what to do, but then he put his arms around her and held her close. Her teeth were chattering, but she knew he had been out here like this for much longer than her. She wouldn’t complain.

Misa wasn’t sure how long they stood there on the roof, pressed together, letting the rain wash over them. She tilted her head back a little and let the water run down her face. She was freezing, but she could withstand it. It felt good, almost, to show that she could endure this for him. It felt purifying.

L’s arms tightened around her and he bent down, pressing his face into her hair. She felt his lips move, just next to her ear, but couldn’t make out what he said. “What?” she asked.

When he repeated himself, she realized that the reason she had struggled to understand him was that he wasn’t speaking Japanese. Raising his voice just a little, lips pressed right against her ear, he said, “L Lawliet. L-a-w-l-i-e-t.” Latin letters. “It’s my name. The real one, this time.”

Misa pulled away a little in shock, wanting to look him in the eyes. “Why would you tell me that?” she demanded. “Isn’t it too dangerous?”

“I wanted you to know,” was his only response. Nothing more.

Is this a trick? Why would he tell me that now, when he knows that I’m the second Kira? When he knows that I know? Could it be that Rem was wrong about L? If he trusted Misa enough to tell her his real name, maybe that meant that Misa could trust him, too. Even L wouldn’t go that far to manipulate her, right? Or maybe she just wanted to trust him so badly that she would see anything as a reason to.

In truth, Misa couldn’t even begin to understand his motivations, or what the knowledge meant for her and the choice she had yet to make, so she just reached up to stroke his wet cheek and replied, “What a weird name. I think it suits you, though.”

A small smile came to his face. “I suppose.” He shook his head once, like he was waking up. “You’re drenched. We should get inside.”

When they reached the door to the roof, they found Watari waiting just inside, holding two large towels. Misa accepted one gratefully, wrapping it around her body, while Watari draped the other over L’s shoulders.

“I’m fine, Watari,” L insisted, trying to continue walking. “I’m—” He stumbled a little, catching himself on the wall, and Watari frowned.

“Let’s get you back to your room,” Watari said to L, almost like Misa wasn’t there.

She walked over to them anyway and put her arm around L’s waist, letting his arm fall over her shoulder. “I’ll bring him back there,” she insisted, but Watari went around to L’s other side anyway, despite L’s muffled complaints. His voice was getting weaker. How long was he out there, all alone, before I found him? she wondered as she and the old man led him down the hallway. She hated to admit it, but Watari’s presence was helpful. If L stumbled again, she would probably be too weak to catch him.

Together, they led L back to his bedroom. By the time they reached the door, he managed to pull himself free of their arms. “I’ll go back to bed, but I can dry myself off. I’m not a child,” he insisted, his voice still weak but also unyielding.

Misa went to follow him into the room, but Watari stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “A word?”

Warily, Misa nodded, shutting the door behind L and leaning against it, still shivering under her towel. She didn’t want to be the one to speak first. She knew the old man didn’t like her much, and she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had gotten to her.

Watari sighed and removed his glasses, starting to clean the lenses. They already looked pretty clean to her. Maybe he just wanted an excuse not to look at her. In any case, as he tended to his glasses, he started to speak. “I suppose it’s no secret that I don’t trust you, or your intentions towards L,” he began, and she raised her chin at him defiantly. “But he’s an adult, and he can make his own decisions. However. L is a person of great importance to the world. And what’s more, he is a person of great importance to me.” Finishing with his glasses, he placed them back on his face and fixed her with a serious look. “He may seem cold on the outside, but L is actually quite a sensitive person.”

“I know that,” Misa interjected, feeling stupidly competitive, like she had to prove that she knew L as well as Watari did. The withering look he gave her in response was enough to shut her up.

“The stress of this case is affecting him more than he would like to admit. Even if Kira doesn’t kill him, this case might, if it goes on for much longer.” An image of L’s dull, distant eyes as he stared up at the dark sky came into Misa’s head, and she shivered. “I am not alone in caring for L. There are many others, people who have been trained for situations such as this. All waiting for the moment they will be called to defend him… or to avenge him. If any harm should come to L because of you, Miss Amane, even if there is not enough evidence to prove the case to the police, we will know. And we will come for you.”

How was it possible for the old man to sound so polite and mild when he was actively threatening her? Misa clenched her jaw, trying to stop her teeth from chattering and her chest from shaking. She didn’t look away, but after a moment, Watari set a hand on her shoulder again. It was gentle, almost grandfatherly.

“You should go change out of those wet clothes,” he said. “We wouldn’t want you catching cold.”

At that, he turned and walked away. Misa followed him with her eyes until he was around the corner, not budging from her spot in front of L’s door. When he was gone, she let herself un-tense again. Her heart was beating fast, like she’d come within inches of disaster.

Misa showered in L’s room, not wanting to go too far from him, and changed into one of his clean shirts afterwards. He had been asleep in his bed since she’d entered the room after her confrontation with Watari. Once she was dry, she crossed the room to where he slept and sat on the bed beside him.

L was whimpering slightly in his sleep, like he was having a nightmare. She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair, which was still damp, and touched his forehead. Well, he doesn’t feel like he has a fever or anything. Suddenly, his hand shot out. She tensed, but he only grabbed the hem of the shirt she wore, fisting one hand in the fabric. He didn’t seem like he had even woken up.

Misa relaxed against the headboard of the bed, looking down at L, who was curled up on his side like he was trying to make himself as small as possible. He still held onto the shirt tightly, as if to make sure she wouldn’t leave.

As she sat there, she replayed her conversation with Watari in her head. Even if Kira doesn’t kill him, this case might. She thought of the nightmares that afflicted L. She thought of the way he hardly seemed to eat or sleep anymore. She thought of the look of what she had thought was fear on his face earlier, when they had sex, the way he had cried out as if in pain when he climaxed. She thought of the dread that had washed over her when she woke up and found herself alone in his bed.

For the first time, instead of glossing it over in her mind, Misa thought, really thought, about what it would mean for Kira to win. What it would mean for her to see a world without L? To watch the light behind his eyes be extinguished? The person who had touched her so gently, who had held her while she cried and told her that she would be okay, would be erased from the world, and she would be the only person who held the memory of their time together. It would be just like with her parents.

Until tonight, Misa hadn’t realized that she loved L. She certainly hadn’t said anything to him about it. Before meeting Rem again, she probably wouldn’t have been able to make sense of her own feelings. She hadn’t been her whole self without her knowledge of the Death Note. And when you’re only half a person, it can be hard to understand your relationships with others. But now that she had found the missing piece of the Misa Amane puzzle, she could see it. She had fallen in love with L.

This whole time, being a Kira supporter had been like a game, somehow, or a thought exercise. It didn’t have consequences. Light saw the big picture, and she supposed he had shown her how to. To imagine the world that Kira would build, a world created by his ideals and values. But those big ideas, that black-and-white thinking? That belief that, if he created a new world based on a sense of right and wrong, it would have to be a better world? That was Light’s way of thinking, not Misa’s. She was learning to tell the difference now.

Misa’s way of looking at the world was more intimate. Where Light saw ideas, she saw people. And, in the end, Kira’s ideas didn’t matter that much at all. She hadn’t worshiped Kira because she agreed with him. She had agreed with Kira because she worshiped him. Her gratitude to Kira, and her loyalty, had been to Kira as an entity, as a savior, not the beliefs he represented. No matter what Kira’s ideals were, Misa would have adopted them as her own.

So, in the end, for this decision of Misa’s, whether Kira was right or wrong didn’t matter. It wasn’t even relevant. What mattered were the people involved, Light and L, and the fact that she knew that neither of them would stop until the other was dead. Knowing that Kira had killed innocent people was one thing. Those people were strangers; they hardly seemed real to her. But knowing that Kira would kill L was another thing altogether. Because L was the first person to make her feel something that threatened to eclipse her loyalty to Kira. She didn’t have to choose a side, she had to choose a person. If she couldn’t save them both, then Misa had to decide which one she could live without.

Misa saw people, not ideas. And now that she knew who Light was, she saw him. Not Kira the idea, but Light the person. The person who could be cruel, who could be arrogant, who would kill not just criminals but anyone who stood in his way. Including L. He wanted a world filled with good people, but L was good, and warm, and had been so much kinder to Misa than someone like her deserved, and Light didn’t care about any of that. He only cared about winning, about proving that he was better than L, even if it meant taking his warmth and goodness away from the world. Even if it meant taking his warmth and goodness away from Misa.

Could a world created by the dreams of such a flawed, childish person really be any better? Light certainly believed that the ends would justify the means, but Kira’s world would still be a world born in blood. A world that’s very creation required its maker to sacrifice their innocence. Like Light had. Like Misa had.

Misa could only save one of them, and she thought that Light might be beyond saving. He would never stop now, not until he felt he had triumphed over everyone that stood in his way, until the world was his to control.

Misa had been like Light too: cruel, childish. A killer. Before she lost her memories, she had been so close to taking L’s life herself. In another life, that Misa would have gone on killing for Kira, living a life without the warmth that L had given her, and she would never have even known what she was missing. She would have never realized what an important thing she had destroyed. She didn’t know if she was really changed, if she was any different from that person, or if it was just because she didn’t have her memories. If she remembered everything, would she revert to the person she had been? Was that girl waiting inside of her heart, waiting to be woken up once more?

Was Misa beyond saving, too?

L made a small noise and she looked down at him. He looked worried even in sleep, forehead creased, clenching his teeth. As she watched him, a thought came to her, clear as day: If I let him die, I will be beyond saving. He was the first person since her parents to have shown her unconditional affection and respect, to have made her feel like she was home again. She had considered throwing that away, and for what? To help Light, who had only ever treated her as disposable and worthless? To create a world where L, and others like him, were sacrificed for the sake of Light’s need for control and glory?

If she made that choice, she wouldn’t just kill L, but also any parts of herself that were still worth saving. I’ve been so stupid, Misa thought. I already know what I have to do.

All of that confusion, all of that second-guessing herself, all of that agonizing over her feelings for L and for Light, and for what? She had made things so complicated for herself, but they were actually quite simple. When she looked down at L, his fingers clutching her shirt like a lifeline even in his sleep, face still troubled by worries and bad dreams, there was no question what she would do.

He was so closed off, so paranoid, and yet he had decided to place himself in her hands knowing that she could break him in an instant. He had known she was dangerous, even when she herself had forgotten, and for some reason, he had trusted her anyway. He had looked the girl he knew must be the second Kira in the eyes and given her his name freely, before she could even ask. He trusted her. What kind of person would she have to be, to betray that trust?

She couldn’t even call the idea selfish, because betraying him, losing him, would hurt Misa just as much as it would hurt L. It would just be stupid.

Kira had avenged her parents, but he couldn’t bring back the warmth that had been missing from her life since the night they died. Only L had been able to do that. L been kind to her when she didn’t deserve it, had told her that she wasn’t bad when she was convinced that she was. He had seen a capacity for goodness in her that she didn’t even know she had. He trusted her with his name and his life, just based on his belief, or his hope, that she would make the right decision. If she owed Kira her gratitude, then she owed L so much more. Misa was L’s now, and L was hers. Light Yagami, on the other hand, was just another asshole who thought he could push her around. Light was beautiful and he was brilliant, but there was no warmth or humanity in him. Maybe there never had been. There was no comparison between them at all.

Light thought that he could just erase L from the world. In Light’s eyes, all of the value that L brought to the world was reduced to an obstacle to be destroyed. He didn’t know that the detective was under Misa Amane’s protection now, and she was done losing people she loved. Misa had been such a child, treating the power that she had been given like a burden, wishing that someone else would step up and take care of things, but now that L needed her, she could see that it was a gift. Misa Amane might be the one person in the world with the power to stop Light now, so it was her responsibility. She would do it for L.

Not just Light, either, but the whole damn thing. Getting involved in Kira’s mission had been a mistake from the start, and now it was up to her to fix it. In that moment, Misa felt truly powerful for the first time in her life. The first time around, she had been so in awe of Kira that she didn’t even realize the power she had wielded. She had just let herself be controlled by him, let her power become nothing more than a tool for him to use. But she was done letting other people take her power from her. In that moment, Misa felt that she didn’t even need the Death Note. If she had to, to protect her L, she would kill Light Yagami with her own bare hands. And then she would burn Kira’s entire operation to the ground.

Chapter Text

Misa had a lot of thinking to do, and not a lot of time to do it. Her next, and final, meeting with Rem was tomorrow—or, really, today, since it was past midnight. Deciding that planning for the upcoming day was more important than sleeping, she reclined against L’s headboard and tried her best to think.

She wished she could go back to her room and write in a diary or something, to get her thoughts in order, but that would be too suspicious, plus it would leave physical evidence. So, instead, she tilted her head back and closed her eyes. There was no risk of her falling asleep; despite her exhaustion, there were too many thoughts racing through her head.

L shifted closer to her in his sleep, and she guided him, letting him rest his head in her lap and throw one arm over her legs. As she thought, she ran her fingers absently through his hair.

She would take down Light however she needed to, but luckily for her, she had access to one page of the Death Note, courtesy of Rem. What else did she have? She had the loyalty of a shinigami. She had access to L and the rest of the investigation team, if she wanted to involve them.

Did she want to involve them? Honestly, her first instinct was to go to L and tell him everything, then let him decide how to use her to catch Kira. But something held her back.

Back when she first was given the Death Note, Misa hadn’t even attempted to really think or make any choices for herself. Her only objective had been to serve Kira: to kill who he wanted her to kill, to find him, to offer herself up as his pawn. Power had been placed in her hands, and she had immediately given up responsibility for it, letting Light take her notebook away and following him with blind faith.

Misa could imagine how easy it would be to do that again. She could wake L right now and confess everything she knew, then ask him to tell her what she should do. She knew he was smarter than her. He could probably figure things out. The girl she was a few months ago would have done it with no second thoughts.

But this power had been given to Misa, not L. It had found her not once, but twice. She was responsible for it. It would feel like a failure on her part, to refuse to take responsibility again and let someone else think for her. Even if that someone else was a genius, or the man she loved, or both. She couldn’t spend her whole life following others.

Besides, she didn’t know that L would have the same priorities as her. L didn’t truly understand how dangerous Light was. He hadn’t been close to him like Misa had. He didn’t even know about the shinigami or the Death Note. She could tell him, but there was still the question of how seriously he would take it.

Misa knew something that L didn’t: Light was holding back. With her understanding of the Death Notes, she realized that if Light wanted to, he could have killed every member of the task force other than L. Even worse, he could have made the Eye Trade at any time and killed L as well. The fact that he hadn’t done these things was proof that he still felt victory was likely. He felt that he had enough of an edge to go easy on them, to try to outsmart them instead of just killing everyone. But the second that Light believed he was losing, he would react like an animal in a trap and take down as many people with him as possible.

L was bound by his desire to bring Kira to justice. He didn’t just want to stop Kira. He wanted to catch Kira, to let Kira know he had been defeated, to see Kira put on trial in some way or another. L had been holding back, too: playing with Light, taunting him, trying to gain a decisive victory over him by gathering enough evidence to bring him to justice.

Misa didn’t care about any of that. If Misa was honest with herself, she wanted to save L’s life, keep herself alive and out of prison, keep her relationship with L, and protect the rest of the world from Kira, in roughly that order of priority. Now that Misa was free of her dependence on Light Yagami, she could admit to herself that he was too dangerous to take half-measures against. And she was worried that L, in his attempts to bring Kira to justice within the bounds of the law, would get himself killed. His life was Misa’s first priority, but it wasn’t his own.

Thankfully, Misa was not bound by the rules that bound L. Sure, if her life were a movie, she would love to have a dramatic showdown with Light in which she revealed that she, his air-headed ex-girlfriend, had been strong enough to defeat him. But life wasn’t a movie. And the way to deal with Light Yagami was to strike immediately, out of nowhere, with no warning and no mercy. It was the only hope she had of stopping him.

And this, in the end, was why Misa had to do this alone. If L was in charge, he would try to take Light into custody, and he might get himself killed in the process. But Misa was already compromised. She didn’t have to answer to I.C.P.O. or convince the task force to agree with her methods. She had killed hundreds of people already, most of them for no good reason at all. She already would never be allowed to go to heaven or hell, if Rem was to be believed. After all of the death, all of the destruction, that her hands had caused… what difference would a little more make?

Misa could do what L could not: strike first and kill Light without needing to prove his guilt or get permission from anyone else. If she had once been ruthless, if she had already sacrificed her innocence when she took up the mantle of second Kira, then she could do it again to protect the man she loved. To protect not only his life, but also his soul, from the choice of having to kill. He would never have to dirty his hands, to make the choice to kill Light, because Misa would carry that burden alone.

If L followed the proper channels to prove Light’s guilt and take him into custody, then, in the worst case scenario, Light would evade capture and kill L first. In the best case, Light would be put on trial and then executed. All Misa was doing was cutting out the middle part, the part with the most risk. She knew that Light was guilty, and so did L. No one else needed to be convinced. No trial was needed.

If L was Light’s judge, then Misa would be his executioner.

It was decided, then. Misa would act alone. Well, not entirely—she had Rem. But she would keep L in the dark until Light was dead. And she wouldn’t confess, either. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. Misa trusted L to follow his values. She knew he was a good person, better than her in many ways. But Light and L actually had a lot in common. L, like Light, cared about ideas first and relationships with other people second.

Misa didn’t believe that L wanted to see her jailed or executed. If that was actually what he wanted from her, she would probably go along with it. But Misa knew that wasn’t the case. If she was locked up or killed, he would be sad and lonely. But if L wasn’t the type of person to prioritize justice over his own happiness and relationships with others, he wouldn’t be the detective L at all.

So who was to say that L wouldn’t feel forced to turn her in if she confessed? And if he turned her in, he might be able to use her assistance in the case against Kira to spare her execution, but she didn’t think he would be able to save her from serving at least some time in prison, possibly the rest of her life. Besides that, Kira was the most infamous serial killer in the history of the world. Even if L spared her life, if her identity as the second Kira was known, she might still be assassinated by another government, or even captured and tortured by anyone who thought they could use her to get their hands on the power of Kira.

Misa didn’t need to trick him into believing she was innocent. She didn’t want to, either. Deceiving L like that would feel wrong. They would never be able to have a good relationship if it was based on a lie. What she needed to do was make sure that he never had enough evidence against her that he might feel compelled to turn her in.

She tried to remember a phrase L had used, when trying to explain why she couldn’t kiss him in front of the task force. It was the same phrase her manager had used once, back before all of this. The manager had been explaining to Misa why she wasn’t allowed to out herself as a Kira supporter, even though it was well known in the gossip mags that she was one. Her manager had explained that it didn’t matter if everyone knew it was true, as long as she didn’t confirm it or say it publicly. What had he called it? “Plausible deniability.”

That was Misa’s goal, then. To kill Light Yagami immediately, before he had the chance to retaliate against her betrayal. To prevent Kira’s power from being passed on to anyone else, so that the Kira case would end and L would be safe. And to do all of this while maintaining enough plausible deniability about her identity as the second Kira that L wouldn’t feel forced to consider turning her in.

Could she stop Kira without killing Light? And what about Teru Mikami and Kiyomi Takada? Did they need to die as well?

If L, or someone else like him, were making this plan, they might try to think of a way to kill as few people as possible. There was probably a way. The thing was, Misa didn’t think it was worth it. Did the three of them deserve to die? Maybe not. But she had killed a lot better people than them with much weaker justification. Whether they deserved it or not, the fact was that Misa was not that good at planning. Every restriction she put on herself only increased the complexity of the plan and made her more likely to fail.

Misa wanted to save herself and L, and to stop Kira, and she wanted to do so in the most straightforward way possible, to reduce the risk of her plan backfiring on her. So if the most straightforward way was to kill every single person involved, to make totally certain they would never be a threat again, that was what she would do.

This was one point in Misa’s favor: her willingness to follow the most straightforward path, regardless of morality or legality. Maybe that made her a bad person, compared to L, but if it allowed her to protect him, it was worth it. She decided to catalog what else she had on her side. Of course, there was Rem, and the page from Mikami’s Death Note that Rem carried with her.

And she had knowledge. She knew the names, faces, and identities of the two Kiras, their accomplice, and L. (Though she wasn’t entirely certain of the spelling of Takada’s name, which could be an issue. At least Mikami’s had been shown on television.) Besides that, she had full knowledge of the Death Note’s abilities and rules, as well as everything Rem could tell her about the Shinigami Realm and the events that had occurred when she was the second Kira. It would be better to have her own memories back, but this would do. The more she understood, though, the better. Rem would tell her anything she knew, but Misa still had to ask the right questions.

When Misa considered it, given that she knew all of their identities, could use the Death Note, and had a shinigami ready to kill or die for her (or both), she might actually be the most powerful person in the world as far as the Kira case was concerned. What surprised her was that, thinking back, that had been partially true before. Before she introduced herself to Light, she could have killed him at any time, but it had never even crossed her mind. He had been at her mercy the whole time. So why did she let herself believe that she was weak or helpless?

Misa had one more advantage over everyone else involved, now that she thought about it: the element of surprise. Light believed she was out of the picture, just a sad amnesiac locked up in the headquarters, no threat to anyone. Mikami didn’t even know that she had been the second Kira, thanks to Light’s decision to only tell him what he needed to know. And L seemed to understand something had changed, but he didn’t know that she still had the ability to kill, or that she might be planning something. Especially not that she might act as soon as today.

In a sense, she was up against not only Light, but L as well. L was used to being in charge of his investigations. They shared a common goal now—to stop Kira—but if he figured out what she was planning, there was no way he would allow her to act alone. So, to defeat Light, she also had to defeat L, at least in some sense. She had to keep him in the dark long enough to handle things herself.

It was easiest for Misa to understand if she thought about it symbolically. Basically, L and Light were engaged in a high-stakes game of chess. They were really very similar in a lot of ways, so they were each able to think a few steps ahead of each other, leaving them in gridlock.

There was no room for Misa on the board. She couldn’t take L’s place. And even if she somehow joined their game, she would lose, because there was no space for her to use her strengths. She didn’t even know how to play chess. In other words: she couldn’t hope to succeed by engaging L and Light on their terms.

But they had a weakness: they were so focused on each other, and on the game, that they weren’t paying attention to the world around them. In their minds, if something wasn’t an allowable chess move, it wasn’t possible. They didn’t even see that they were limiting their options. So if Misa wanted to beat them, all she had to do was sneak up while they were focused on their game and flip the board.

L and Light were smart, but that made them both arrogant and vain, to some extent. Looking back, she could see half a dozen mistakes each one of them had made, just so they could prove how smart they were, just so they could show off against each other. Misa, on the other hand, was simple. She wasn’t interested in proving herself or gloating. If she was going to succeed against them, she needed to stick to simple plans.

Because Misa lacked the confidence they had, and because she saw herself as the underdog in this situation, she wouldn’t hold back, and if anything would help her win, it was that. She didn’t have the luxury of showing off. Misa knew that she only had one chance to use the element of surprise. She needed to strike immediately, with full force, and hit Light, Takada, and Mikami simultaneously, before they even realized she was a threat. If she failed, if she drew attention to herself and they survived, she would be forced into a game that she knew she couldn’t win.

Unfortunately, Misa had weaknesses as well, one of the biggest ones being that she wasn’t on L or Light’s level as far as intellect went. She wasn’t confident that, on her own, she could come up with a good enough plan and carry it out. However, she wasn’t on her own. Even without involving L, she had Rem. If Misa could come up with the broadest outline of a plan—an idea of what she wanted to do, the goals she was trying to achieve today and the sacrifices she was willing to make for them—then hopefully, when she met with Rem, the shinigami could use her knowledge of the Death Note, and of Light and Ryuk, to help Misa come up with something that would actually work.

That was her plan, then. She would meet with Rem this afternoon, get the Death Note page from her, and enlist her help to find a way to take Light, Takada, and Mikami down in one blow. She would remove both Death Notes from the planet in some way or another, to make sure they would never be used again. In just a few hours, she was going to incinerate every trace of Kira’s existence.

When the first light of dawn came in through the window, L didn’t stir. He seemed like he had barely slept in days, and now he was out cold. They probably wouldn’t get the chance for a real conversation alone before she left for the film set. She wanted to say something to L, to hold him, in case it all went wrong. But there was no time. So she slowly moved out from under him, guiding his head back to the pillow.

Though she tried not to, that movement managed to wake L, at least halfway. He still seemed half delirious from exhaustion and stress, but he opened his eyes partway, blinking up at her. “Misa?” he mumbled, his voice questioning. “What’s happening?”

Misa was glad she had decided to work alone. L was in no state to come up with a plan in the few hours remaining before her meeting with Rem, and she had no way to postpone it. And to be honest, this was lucky: she had a better chance of pulling this off if he was too tired or sick to stop her. Still, she didn’t want to trick him. She couldn’t tell him everything, but she wanted to communicate to him that he could trust her, that he didn’t need to worry anymore.

So she leaned down to his level on the bed. “Hush, darling, you need to rest now. It will be okay. Misa will take care of everything.” She could see a small spark of lucidity in his eyes, the beginnings of a question, but she smoothed his wrinkled brow with her thumb. She bent over, her blonde hair falling around them both like a curtain, and softly kissed his cheek. When she pulled away again, his eyes were closed.

Misa shot him one last glance before exiting the room. “Misa won’t let you down,” she whispered, so quietly that only she could hear it.

When Misa stopped by her room to shower and change her clothes that morning, she took something with her: the cheap plastic lighter that L had forgotten in her room after the night that they shared his cake.

Luckily, Misa had been smart enough to prepare for this day in a few ways. During her previous lunch break, she had pretended to be busy reviewing her lines for the upcoming scene. She would do that again today, but this time, it would be a cover for her conversation with Rem.

This way, she would be able to communicate with Rem without doing something as suspicious as spending another hour in the bathroom. She had gotten the idea from the story Rem had told her, which Rem herself had heard from Ryuk, of how Light had carried out the Kira killings while under video surveillance by hiding a scrap of the Death Note and a small TV inside of a potato chip bag. If she was going to make a big move today, it was best that she appear as innocent as possible all day and stay where Matsuda could see her. “Plausible deniability.”

So, when lunchtime came, she told Matsuda she wanted to spend the lunch break studying the script on her own again. He didn’t seem suspicious of this at all; in fact, he gushed over how conscientious and hard-working Misa was. When she asked if she could sit off to the side, where she could practice her lines without feeling self-conscious, Matsuda said, “Of course! As long as you stay within my line of sight.”

Misa set up alone at one of the staff tables. She had everything she needed: her binder containing the script, a pen “for making notes in the margins,” and a few pieces of fruit from the snack table for her lunch. Matsuda sat just out of earshot, alternating between watching her and reading a book. She felt quite proud of herself for having thought of this plan.

She didn’t have to wait long before the shadow of the shinigami fell over her binder. She wondered idly what Matsuda would see if he was closer. Would the shadow be invisible to him, too? She kept her eyes on the paper, even when the voice hissed in her ear, “Shall we go to the restroom to speak freely?”

Misa smiled to herself. “It’s fine, Rem. As long as I keep my voice down, turn the page every now and then, and don’t look around or do anything suspicious, we can talk right here. Matsuda thinks I’m practicing my lines, so he won’t wonder why I’m talking to myself.”

“Smart,” the shinigami said, and Misa could swear the god sounded almost impressed with her. She tried not to look too smug; after all, she wasn’t really used to being called that. “So, Misa Amane, have you decided what it is that you want?”

“Yes,” Misa said, turning a page on her script. “But I’m going to need you to help me.”

For around 10 or 15 minutes, Misa bombarded Rem with questions about how the Death Note worked, what Ryuk's abilities and motivations were, and details about Light and Mikami. Some of the questions were related to her plan, and some were just so she could come up with back-ups. She was beginning to realize that curiosity could be considered another of her strengths. Thinking so much was kind of exhausting, but she had to make sure every piece of her plan was airtight. She would only have one shot at this.

She learned a lot from Rem, primarily that she had underestimated one threat. In Rem’s opinion, they didn’t just have to worry about Light, but Ryuk as well. If Misa ruined his fun, he would be very angry with her—but Rem believed she could keep him from trying to kill Misa in retaliation if she threatened to make his eternal life miserable if he did. In addition, if Ryuk still had a second notebook after Light’s death, he would probably just give it to a new person.

“Where did Ryuk get his second Note?” Misa asked. “Did it come from a shinigami who died, like the one you gave me?”

Rem shook her head, explaining that Ryuk had tricked the Shinigami King in order to steal the notebook of the shinigami Sidoh, who had lost it.

“Hmm.” Misa thought to herself for a moment. “If Sidoh got his notebook back, do you think he would be stupid enough to let Ryuk take it again? And if he didn’t get his notebook back, what would happen?”

“I do not believe that he would lose it a second time. A shinigami would eventually die if they lost their notebook permanently, so he would have to be pretty stupid. Though he might be able to get a new one from the Shinigami King if it came down to that.”

“What would Sidoh do if a human destroyed his notebook before he could get it back?” Misa asked.

Rem frowned. “He might try to kill you. I could probably try to stop him and Ryuk, but I don’t think it would be a smart move.”

Misa took a long moment to think. “Okay, I think I know what to do.”

Finally, having gone over the plan with Rem so many times that she felt like her brain was melting out of her ears, Misa said, “I’m ready. The next time Matsuda looks away from me, drop the paper.” Rem unfolded the paper behind her back. Misa’s heart was pounding, and she was painfully aware that she could be caught at any given time, but, just as planned, Matsuda glanced down at his book, and Rem slipped the piece of paper quickly on top of Misa’s script.

Taking her pen in hand, Misa began to write. She wrote slowly, asking Rem for help with the wording. She only had one chance to pull this off, so she had to make sure it was exactly right. Her hand shook, but she knew that, to Matsuda, she would only look like she was making notes on her script.

A few minutes later, she added the name at the bottom, and it was done. Well, the writing was. The events detailed on the page wouldn’t be happening for awhile yet. She brushed a hand across her forehead and was surprised to realize that she was sweating.

The next time Matsuda looked down, Misa folded the paper once more and slipped it into her back pocket, then stood up with an emphatic stretch, closing her binder. “Hey, Mr. Matsui, I’m going to take a bathroom break before we start filming again!” she called out to him, and he gave her a thumbs up.

Leaving her binder on the table, Misa entered the restroom with the shinigami following behind. Together, they crowded into a stall, though it was such a tight fit that Rem’s shoulders were phased halfway through the walls.

Rem watched quietly as Misa took the sheet of paper from her pocket and the lighter from her purse. Holding the paper over the toilet, Misa ran the flame over it. She was thorough, making sure that the whole piece caught fire, not letting go until the last possible second to avoid getting burned. The remnants of the paper fell into the toilet. She pulled the handle and watched them swirl down the drain. It felt like a ritual, almost, standing there in silence with a shinigami and watching the evidence disappear for good.

“If this plan works, I’ll see you in an hour or two, right?” Misa asked, staring up at her strange friend.

Rem nodded. “Closer to two. I need to stay close to the ground instead of flying, in case Light or Ryuk happen to be in the area.”

Even parting for a few hours was nerve-wracking. What if something went wrong? But Rem didn’t look nervous, so Misa allowed herself to feel encouraged by that. “I’ll see you soon,” she said, voice firm, and she watched Rem phase through the wall to the outside once again.

The next few hours were torture. Misa could scarcely focus on her lines. If something had gone wrong, how would she know? She would have no way to tell until Rem reappeared.

So, when she looked up from kissing Ryuuga Hideki to see Rem floating near a tree off in the distance, she was so relieved that she nearly cried. It was enough to break her focus, and when she stumbled over the next line, the director shouted, “CUT!” She would have to repeat the scene. But none of that mattered, because Rem was okay.

Rem watched her the rest of the day, staying out of view of the cameras. Misa supposed that was for the best. As funny as she thought it would be, for there to be a hidden shinigami in her first feature film, it was best not to take any unnecessary risks. Even if no one who could see Rem would survive the day.

Filming seemed to stretch on forever, but, finally, they wrapped for the day. (Actually, they finished early for once, but it felt like an eternity to Misa.) “I need a moment in the restroom to freshen up,” Misa told Matsuda. She would have to make this quick, to avoid suspicion, but it was an unavoidable step.

Misa entered the stall one more time, and Rem phased through the wall a moment later, holding a black notebook in her skeletal hands. Sticking out of the notebook was a folded sheet of paper—normal paper, not Death Note paper. Rem started to hold it out towards Misa, but the girl flinched back. This was the part of the plan that she was still anxious about.

“As you wrote, after lunch at the cafe, Teru Mikami returned to his home, took his Death Note out of its hiding place, and relinquished ownership to me,” Rem informed her. “When I left, he was sitting on his couch, where he should remain until his death this evening. As soon as I hand you this notebook, the ownership will pass to you.”

Misa hesitated. She knew Rem had already answered this, but… “Are you sure that my memories won’t return?” she asked, unable to help herself. If she got her memories back, she had no idea what she might do. She might turn against L after all.

“I’m certain,” Rem said, voice even. “If that were possible, the paper would have already done it.”

Still, Misa couldn’t quite bring herself to touch it. What if Light had somehow switched the notebooks back without the shinigami knowing? She knew that was a ridiculous idea, but she was so scared of her body being taken over by the old Misa, the one who had been the second Kira.

“I need you to promise,” she said suddenly, taking Rem’s free hand in hers. “If I somehow get my memories back, you need to force me to give up ownership again. Threaten to kill…” Who? The second Kira was willing to die for Light, and wouldn’t care if L died. And she would know that giving up ownership would lead to Light’s death anyway, so threatening Light wouldn’t work. “Threaten to kill my sister,” Misa finished, though the words made her want to vomit. “Just get the notebook away from me, no matter what.”

Rem’s eyes were sad, but understanding at the same time. “Are you sure you don’t want me to kill them both for you?” she offered. “You wouldn’t have to touch the notebook at all.”

Misa shook her head quickly. “Like you said, there’s a chance that would kill you. Besides, I started this. I should be the one to finish it.”

“Don’t worry, Misa,” Rem said, sounding a little choked up over Misa’s concern for her life. “This will work.” And she put the notebook in Misa’s hands.

Misa closed her eyes and braced herself, ready for the wave of memories to hit her. But nothing happened. It was just a notebook. After thirty seconds, she tentatively opened her eyes. Thank god.

She couldn’t waste any more time. Quickly, she pulled out the loose sheet of paper, looking it over. It contained the correct spelling of Kiyomi Takada’s name, which Mikami had found on the internet while following the instructions for his death. He had written it down on regular paper, rather than the Death Note. This way, there would be no record of Misa searching for the name. Finally, she had everything she needed.

Without hesitating, Misa braced the notebook against the wall of the stall, took the pen from her pocket, and began to write. This one, thankfully, was much faster than what she had written for Mikami. Afterwards, she burned the paper with Takada’s name on it, dropping that in the toilet as well.

“It’s done,” she said, trying to fight the urge to tremble. Rem reached down to take the notebook from her hands, and she frowned. “Are you sure this is the safest place for it?”

“Ryuk isn’t omniscient,” Rem explained. “He has no way of knowing the notebook is here. Until Light Yagami dies, Ryuk will be by his side. Normally, he could choose to kill Light in order to go off on his own, but since Light’s name is written in your Death Note now, Ryuk can’t even do that. He is physically incapable of leaving Light until the boy’s death. And, thanks to you, we know exactly where Light Yagami will be for the rest of the day.

“After that, well, this is closer to L’s headquarters than the Yagami residence. Even if Ryuk somehow finds out the notebook is here, I can get to it faster than him.”

Misa frowned. “Still, it doesn’t seem secure enough. What if someone comes across it by accident?”

“We went over this already, Misa. It will be safer here than it will be if you try to take it into L’s headquarters, where you could be searched at any moment.”

Misa let out a sigh. She was still worried, but this was why she had let Rem handle the details. She understood the notebook, and Ryuk, much better than Misa did. Finally, she nodded, and Rem carefully moved one of the ceiling tiles out of the way. Once the notebook was tucked away inside of the bathroom ceiling, she replaced the tile.

“I guess if this works, this will be our last chance to speak alone,” Misa remarked. She felt almost wistful. The shinigami had been kind to her, even if she was scary looking.

“Even if this doesn’t work, I will fight to stop Light for your sake. If he survives and finds out that you were behind this, you’ll be in a lot of danger, but I’ll protect you. From him, and from Ryuk as well.” Misa turned to stare at Rem. Even now, she was surprised by the depth of the shinigami’s protectiveness towards her. “And, because you were the first human I gave my Death Note to, I am responsible for your death. I will watch you from the Shinigami Realm until the moment of your natural death, and then I will write your name in my notebook and return to personally escort you out of this life. For the rest of your life, even if you are alone, I will be watching over you.”

“Rem…” Misa found that her eyes were filling with tears and had to blink a few times. “I can’t ever repay you for everything you’ve done for me.”

Rem stared down at Misa with a look of determination on her face. “As long as you can live a happy life, free from Light Yagami’s influence and the Death Note’s curse, that is all I want.”

In order to reach the shinigami, Misa had to stand on her very tiptoes and tug Rem until she bent forward. Putting as much gratitude and affection into the gesture as she could, Misa kissed Rem’s cold cheek. “Thank you.”

For a second, she thought Rem might cry. She didn’t even know what it would look like, for a shinigami to cry. But instead, she just nodded. “Let us go, Misa Amane,” she said softly. “Your guard is waiting, and we have a long evening ahead of us.”

Chapter Text

Walking into the headquarters with Rem at her back was surreal. Misa felt protected, like she had an incredibly powerful bodyguard that no one else could see. She felt so conspicuous, even though she knew that, to anyone else, she was just the regular old Misa. With Rem floating behind her, as they passed under the harsh florescent lights, their shadows overlapped on the ground in such a way as to make Misa appear to have wings. Maybe she was prone to dramatics, but if there was ever a situation to be dramatic, this was it. And the truth, dramatic as it might be, was that with Rem at her back, Misa felt like an avenging angel. Rem and Misa had started this together. It was only right that they should end it the same way.

It seemed that, in the hours since she had left the building, L had recovered from his illness, because he was back in his usual chair looking like nothing had happened. Unlike the first night back after filming, when he looked up at Misa, she met his eyes without shame. There was a question in his gaze, but he couldn’t ask her. Not in front of all of the others: Misa’s film shoot had ended a little earlier than usual, since they needed daylight for the scenes they were shooting, and today, it seemed, the task force had stayed late. Misa wasn’t sure whether this was good or bad. Would it be better to have fewer eyes on her, or the chaos of a crowd?

Most nights, Misa would return to her room and remove her makeup from work, but tonight, she just took a seat in the middle of the room. Rem loomed behind her in silence, and, together, they watched the men work. As she waited, Misa went over the details she had written in the Death Note (her Death Note, at least for now). What had already come to pass?

Before 4 pm, he finds a time and place to speak to his girlfriend without being witnessed or overheard by other humans or the creature that follows him. He whispers to his girlfriend the hidden location of his Death Note, along with the location of any hidden pages or scraps. He gives her any scraps of the notebook that are hidden on his person.

After receiving the information from her boyfriend, she leaves him and goes to retrieve all pieces of the hidden Death Note. Each scrap of paper, she puts inside of the notebook. She does not see or react to the creature that follows her boyfriend.

It had been hard to write the details of their deaths, given that they required interaction with each other. According to Rem, it was fine to write interactions with others in the death as long as they didn’t cause anyone else’s death. Since Misa hadn’t been sure she could write down the details in under six minutes and forty seconds, she had written all the details first, with Light’s on one page and Takada’s on another, using only the pronouns “him” and “her,” before adding their full names at the top.

Misa didn’t know where Light’s note was hidden, and Light, being tailed all day by L’s men, couldn’t go to retrieve it without attracting suspicion. That was where Takada came in: she was only under observation when together with Light. At Rem’s suggestion, Misa had left the details as vague as possible, since over-specifying could make it somehow impossible, causing them to only die of heart attacks without following the other orders. By giving Light and Takada some freedom to improvise, they could find the best way to carry out her instructions.

She goes to a store and purchases a lighter and a bottle of gasoline, which she puts into her backpack. She does not act differently than normal or speak to anyone unnecessary. When the sun begins to set, she goes to her boyfriend’s home, meeting him along the way.

Yes, by now, Takada should have retrieved the Death Note and began making her way to the Yagami house. As for Light:

Once he completes his normal activities for the day, he stays on his college campus, studying. From this moment until his death, he acts normally towards the creature and does not deviate from his usual behavior. When the sun begins to set, he returns home, meeting his girlfriend on the way.

It was all that Misa could do not to look at the clock every five seconds. She had wanted to give herself plenty of time to return from the film shoot, but now she was left just waiting around for something to happen. She did her best not to look suspicious, though even just the fact that she was sitting in silence with the task force without complaining or trying to distract them was probably suspicious enough.

Some part of her wished she could go to L for comfort. If they had been alone, if he had been in on her plan, he could have held her, taken her mind off it. Even just held her hand, or allowed her to sit by his feet and rest her head against his leg. He could have pet her hair and told her not to worry. It hurt her, knowing that she loved him, to feel this separate from him, even with a friend like Rem at her side. To feel like she was, in some sense, acting against him. Misa was willing to act on her own when she needed to, but she didn’t like holding parts of herself back. Not from him.

That was part of why she was so impatient. She just wanted this whole thing to be over with. When it was all done, and there was no risk of him stopping her, she wouldn’t have to carry this burden alone anymore. She hoped he wouldn’t be angry with her. She was doing this for him, but he might not see things that way. After all, in a sense, she was deciding what was best for him and carrying it out without his consent. She would be angry if he did something like that to her… but she couldn’t risk losing him. An angry, betrayed L was better than a dead L.

No, any risk to him was intolerable. Even if he was fine with risking his life to stop Kira, she wouldn’t let him, not when she could end things herself. That was why Misa didn’t mind enduring this on her own. She loved L, and because of that, she would destroy every single person who wanted to take him away from her. She would burn them from the inside out for daring to try to harm her love. Then, when it was done, she could finally relax and be happy with him again. As long as he eventually forgave her.

L would forgive her… right?

Misa glanced out the window. The last of the sunlight had almost fully disappeared by now. She had timed things to begin just after sunset, both to give her an easy way to keep track of the time and to give in to her desire to be a little dramatic. After all, this was probably the only time in her life that she would execute a semi-villainous plot with the help of a god of death. If she couldn’t be a little extra now, when could she?

As darkness fell outside the windows, she saw L shift slightly in his chair. “Light and Takada have just arrived at the Yagami residence,” he announced, moving to enlarge the video feed on one screen. His voice was still flat, almost bored. After all, that was an almost everyday occurrence. Only Misa knew the significance of this. She had to fight to keep her face neutral, to stay slouched in her seat, even as her heart began to race.

Before entering the house, he asks the creature to wait outside and fly around. He says that he wants to have alone time with his girlfriend. He does not act suspiciously towards the creature. He promises the creature apples.

Misa held her breath. This was one of the riskier parts of the plan. If Ryuk noticed what was happening, he might not be able to save Light, but he could still interfere in other ways. In particular, he could take Light’s Death Note and run the instant Light died. And if he realized Misa was the one spoiling his fun before Rem had a chance to threaten him (she couldn’t kill him, but she could make his immortal life extremely irritating if she wanted to), he might decide to kill her.

Light and Takada were in Light’s house now. The question was, was Ryuk there too? She had no way of verifying if Light had accidentally done something to tip Ryuk off during the day, other than seeing if he followed Light into the house. Misa wouldn’t be able to verify this herself, as she couldn’t see Light’s shinigami anymore. But, thankfully, there was someone who could.

“Ryuk did not enter the house,” Rem said from over her shoulder. Misa had to fight the urge to look around and make sure no one had heard her. She knew that no one but her could see or hear Rem, but that didn’t make it any less anxiety inducing to hear the shinigami speak in the room full of police officers. Silently, she watched Light and Takada make their way through the house to his bedroom.

“What are they doing?” L murmured to himself, beginning to look a little perplexed. Misa could see why. Light and Takada had greeted Mrs. Yagami and Light’s little sister normally, but when they entered Light’s bedroom, both of their faces went blank and they weren’t speaking to each other at all. They just stared off into space, barely blinking, not making a sound. It was downright eerie, like the two of them were automatons awaiting instructions, and even though it was a good sign, the sight sent shivers down Misa’s spine.

Just as Mogi opened his mouth to speak, the spell broke and they began to move again. Takada reached into her backpack and pulled out a red notebook, holding it face down so that the title on the cover would not be visible. Light took it from her, freeing her hands to pull the supplies from her backpack.

Misa actually felt the most conflicted about Takada’s death, oddly enough. Takada hadn’t killed anyone. And while Misa had once said that she would kill any girl who dated Light, she no longer wanted to be that kind of person. While L might never know exactly what she had done today, she still wanted to feel that, if he did know the details, he would agree that she had done the right thing. And Misa wanted to believe that she wasn’t killing Takada for such a childish reason as jealousy.

She could tell herself that she was doing this because there was no way to erase Takada’s memories, since she had never owned or used the Death Note, and because Takada would want to avenge Light in any way she could. Plus, it was necessary to manipulate Takada’s actions for her plan, since Light was under surveillance. But Misa still wasn’t entirely sure that she wasn’t lying to herself about her own motivations.

In any case, it was too late for second thoughts. Light and Takada were already dead. The people on the screen were nothing but living ghosts carrying out their final orders.

Everyone on the task force seemed to understand that something important was happening. L was on the edge of his seat, literally; she was worried he might actually fall out of the chair. They all watched, no one daring to so much as cough, as Takada pulled out the bottle of gasoline from her bag, splashing it into the bottom of the wastebasket next to Light’s desk. She kept the bottle inside of the plastic bag from the store, obscuring the label. The only reason Misa could tell it was gasoline was because she had planned this. Hopefully the task force wouldn’t realize what it was until it was too late.

There was some risk to them doing this now, on camera, but if they had done it during the day, one of the people watching Light might have tried to stop them. When they were in Light’s home, they were watched on video, so there was no need for L’s men to hang around. Plus, this way, Misa and Rem could make sure their plan worked. Misa worried that someone might try to call the Yagami household, to stop them, but she was counting on L’s natural curiosity, and it didn’t let her down. He said nothing, preemptively holding up one hand to prevent the others from speaking.

In the end, it happened too quickly for anyone to do anything. Mere seconds after pouring the liquid into the wastebasket, Takada held the lighter to the bottom of the notebook and set it alight, and immediately after, Light dropped it into the wastebasket. It was engulfed in flames in an instant.

Matsuda leapt from his chair, shouting, “They’re destroying evidence! We have to stop them!”

L glanced up at the officer from beneath his messy hair, looking annoyed at the interruption. “We couldn’t have stopped them in time, and it’s too late to recover it now,” he said calmly, though his eyes gave away the intensity of his interest. “Let’s watch and see what they do next.”

Misa watched the screen, transfixed, as the flames destroyed the last remnants of her memories as the second Kira. Unless Ryuk managed to come in at the last second and put out the fire, this was it. That version of Misa, the one who wanted to kill L, the one who worshiped Light, was being incinerated along with the Death Note. She suddenly felt about ten pounds lighter.

He watches the fire until the notebook is consumed. If anyone tries to put out the fire or recover the notebook, he fights them with his full strength. He does not speak.

She watches the fire until the notebook is consumed. If anyone tries to put out the fire or recover the notebook, she fights them with her full strength. She does not speak.

Light and Takada stood there, eerily still, as the fire grew. It was like they didn’t even see it. If someone didn’t act soon, it would grow into a serious house fire, but everyone seemed frozen in place, eyes glued to the screen.

“Someone needs to—” Yagami started to say, his tension and worry evident in his voice, but L cut him off with a wave of his hand, leaning in towards the speakers as though waiting for Light to speak. Misa felt a flash of guilt for what Light’s father was about to witness. He was innocent in all of this, but there was nothing she could do for him. Well, nothing more: she had tried to arrange things to spare him pain, but in the end, that part would be up to L.

In a way, it felt important that she watch him. It felt like penance. Misa had killed hundreds of people. She had caused hundreds of fathers and mothers to grieve for their children. She had never cared, not then, because she didn’t have to see the aftermath. But this was different. She knew Light, had loved him, and she knew his father, too. And now she would watch as Yagami lost his only son right in front of her eyes. She would hold onto the pain, the guilt, for what it represented: the grief of everyone else who had lost a loved one to the second Kira. She would witness the pain that she had caused and she would not look away. She owed them that, at least.

Less than two minutes later, Light and Takada suddenly clutched at their chests, nearly identical looks of utter horror crossing their faces. Light opened his mouth, but no words came out. L, and the rest of the task force, leapt to their feet in the same moment that Light collapsed to the ground. He couldn’t make a sound, because Misa had written that he wouldn’t. She couldn’t risk him working out who was behind this and saying her name. But his father screamed loudly enough for the both of them, and Misa covered her ears, wincing.

It was like she had thrown a rock into a hornet’s nest. Misa was frozen in her chair, watching the fire, as the task force sprung into noise and motion all around her. It was pure chaos, with Yagami and Matsuda screaming, everyone else trying to talk at once. Yagami was already shouting at L, saying that he should have done something the moment Light began acting strange.

Misa watched, feeling dazed, as L climbed to stand precariously on top of his computer chair. Taking in a deep breath, he shouted, “ENOUGH.”

Everyone in the room turned to look at him at once, falling silent. And L, taking on his role as commander of the task force one last time, began to give orders.

“Aizawa! Call the emergency number and have them send a fire truck to the house. Mogi! Call the Yagami residence and tell Mrs. Yagami and her daughter to evacuate. Do not tell them what happened to Light. Say that he and Takada already escaped the fire, so they won’t try to go upstairs for them. Yagami! Please get ahold of yourself. If they were killed by Kira, their deaths were already assured long before they entered the house. There is nothing we could have done. Matsuda! Take Yagami out of the room. Watari will come to take care of him, in case he goes into shock.”

Misa sat there in silence, watching them all get to work. She wondered vaguely how Mogi was going to explain to Light’s mother how he had known about the fire, but she assumed the woman would be too focused on getting her daughter out of the house to ask questions yet. Matsuda and Yagami left the room, and Mogi and Aizawa went to opposite sides of the room, each making their own phone calls. L, meanwhile, was staring at the video feed intently, as if he expected Light’s dead body to get back up on its own. Misa watched, too, as the fire began to consume Light’s bedroom. She wondered if the house would burn down. Still, it was a small price to pay.

Should she be freaking out more? Would the task force think it was weird that she wasn’t screaming and running around, or would they just assume she was too shocked to move? Misa wasn’t sure. She wondered if it made her a bad person that she didn’t feel anything, even when watching Light and Takada die, except for relief. It didn’t make her happy, but she didn’t feel sad or horrified, either.

Well, she thought, it wasn’t like she hadn’t seen people die before. Maybe it was the sort of thing you eventually got used to.

“I see Ryuk!” Rem said suddenly, and Misa had to fight not to jerk in her chair. “Shinigami are not harmed by fire. He is in the bedroom now and he seems angry. He is spinning around and yelling at Light’s body and complaining about his notebook. He is also upset that he won’t get the apples he was promised.” Misa bit back a smile. If Ryuk was that angry, then he must be certain the notebook was completely gone. He would be forced to return to the Shinigami Realm soon. Until Rem spoke to him, there was a chance he might decide to kill Misa, but he also had no way of knowing that Misa was behind this yet. As far as he knew, Mikami still had the second notebook.

Speaking of Mikami… The final stages of his planned death should be beginning at any moment now. That was the last piece of the plan, and the last thing that could still go wrong.

After a few tense minutes, Mogi and Aizawa finished their phone calls, approaching L where he stood in front of the computers. Matsuda reappeared as well, looking disheveled and frantic. “What do we do next, Ryuuzaki?” he demanded the moment that he re-entered the room. With impeccable timing, the moment before L could respond, his private phone line began to ring. Half of the men in the group jumped.

L’s hand darted out, answering the call and putting it on speakerphone in one fluid movement. “This is L.”

“L!” The voice was male and brusque, as if he wanted to get right to the point. “This is the police. We received a call on our emergency line asking for you specifically.” The officer was speaking quickly, but he paused for a moment, as if working up the courage to continue. “The caller claims to be Kira.”

Matsuda let out an audible gasp, and from where Misa sat, several feet behind them all, she could see L’s eyes sharpen. “Put them through,” he ordered, not hesitating even a moment.

All of the men seemed to draw inward, holding their breath, as they heard the click of the call being connected. A second later, a voice spoke.

“This is Kira. I’d like to make a confession.”

“That voice—” Matsuda began, but L held up a hand, waving for the men to be silent.

Misa was long forgotten, sitting there behind them all, as she listened to Teru Mikami speak the words that she and Rem had written together that afternoon. She felt almost like a director, watching the play from backstage.

“How do I know this is really Kira?” L demanded. Misa had anticipated this question and written an allowed response for Mikami, though she had to be careful not to include any names (other than “Kira,” which was more of a title).

“The police chief’s son and his girlfriend died of heart attacks tonight,” the voice responded, and L’s eyes widened. “Of course, I suppose you might not have known that yet.”

“I am aware of their deaths,” L confirmed after a brief pause. “I assume that you killed them?”

Misa hadn’t bothered to write out responses to too many questions, but thankfully, L was asking the questions she had thought he would. If anything deviated from the script, Mikami might be unable to answer. “Yes. I want to turn myself in.” Misa listened closely as Mikami began to recite his home address. He repeated it once before falling silent.

L glanced around for a moment, making eye contact with the three other men, before he continued. “I assume you want me to come alone?”

“Bring as many police with you as you choose. No one will be harmed. I only want to turn myself in.”

L opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, the line went dead.

“Was that—” Matsuda began to ask.

Just then, a W appeared on the screen—presumably Watari, speaking from wherever he was taking care of Light’s father. “L, I have already traced the phone number and the address given. Both belong to the home residence of Teru Mikami.”

There was a moment of silence, and then all four men began speaking at once. The task force devolved into chaos once more, and Misa knew it would take L another minute or two to get control of the situation.

In the midst of all of the uproar, no one was paying attention to Misa. No one, that was, except for Rem, who walked around to stand in front of Misa’s chair and dropped to her knees, putting them roughly at eye level. “Misa Amane, it is done. Are you ready?”

Misa let one of her fingers twitch up, just fast enough for only Rem to notice, meaning: Not quite yet.

Misa took a deep breath. Everything had gone according to plan. Light and Takada were dead, and Mikami’s phone call had gone exactly as she’d hoped. By the time the police arrived at his house, he would already be dead. Ryuk had failed to stop Light from burning his notebook, which meant that, very soon, Ryuk would be forced to return to the Shinigami Realm. Everything was accounted for.

There was only one thing left to do.

Earlier that day

“One more thing,” Misa said, sitting there alone at the staff table, and the shinigami looked at her expectantly. “Once we make sure that the plan worked, that the three of them are dead and my original notebook is destroyed, I want to give up my memories again.”

When Misa had decided to erase Kira’s existence, she meant to erase all of it. Once one notebook was gone, and the others were dead, there would be only one thing left to erase: the second notebook, and, with it, Misa’s memories of Kira.

In the end, Misa didn’t want to lie to L. She was doing it already, to some extent. But she didn’t know if she could keep it up for the rest of her life, assuming she stayed with him. The stress of it might eat away at her, and it would force her to put up barriers around herself, which she was reluctant to do with someone that she loved. She was already feeling the strain and it had only been a few days.

Things had been easier, back before she knew that she was the second Kira. Misa wanted to go back to that time, and so she had arranged things to allow herself to forget. If the notebooks and her memories were both gone, she would never have to worry about getting caught. There would be no risk of her revealing the secrets of the Death Note to the world. Every trace would be gone, even those inside of her.

“That is a wise choice,” Rem said, her voice solemn. “If this is your wish, then you need to gain ownership of Mikami’s Death Note. If you use it to kill Light and Takada, and then forfeit the ownership again, you should lose all memory of our interactions over the past few days. When that happens, I can return the notebook to the Shinigami Realm and give it back to its original owner, Sidoh.”

Misa nodded. “My only worry is that, if Ryuk ever gets a second notebook again and comes back to Earth, I won’t be able to help L stop him without my memories.”

“I don’t think Sidoh is stupid enough to lose his notebook twice, particularly if someone informs the Shinigami King of Ryuk’s manipulation. But if Ryuk ever does create a new Kira, I promise you that I will obtain a second notebook again by any means necessary, whether by bargaining or by theft, and use it to make myself visible to you and tell you everything once more, so that you can stop the new Kira. Is that good enough?”

Misa thought about it for a moment. If that happened in the future, maybe enough time would pass for her to feel comfortable telling L everything. But… “What if I die before then? If L is alone, he’ll try to go after Kira again. I won’t be able to help him.”

“The detective’s life is not my concern,” Rem answered, voice cold, and Misa flinched. It was easy to forget how little Rem cared about humans other than Misa.

“Rem, if L dies because I gave up my memories instead of telling the truth, I’ll never forgive you. Even if I am in Mu, I’ll hate you.”

It was hard to tell, but Misa thought the shinigami was exasperated. She let out a long sigh. “Fine. If you die before L, and a new Death Note is brought to the human world, I will find L and tell him the truth. Is that acceptable to you?”

Misa nodded slightly, trying to look as though she was considering a line on the script she held in front of her.

“In that case, I will return later this afternoon with Mikami’s notebook once he forfeits ownership of it, and you and I will use it to kill Light and Takada. Once we are certain that they are dead and their Death Note is destroyed, I will ask you if you are ready to give up ownership again.”

“Thank you, Rem,” Misa said, her voice soft. “You’ve done so much for me already.”

“Bringing the Death Note into your life was a mistake,” Rem answered. “The Death Note brings nothing but misery and death to every human that comes into contact with it. To forget the notebook, and cut all ties to it, is probably your best chance at having a normal, happy life. It is my duty to help to heal the damage my mistake has caused you.”

“But it means I’ll forget you, too.”

The shinigami rested one large hand on Misa’s shoulder. “My only wish is your happiness, even if it means you won’t remember me.” At those words, Misa found herself fighting back tears of gratitude. She didn’t know what she had ever done to earn such loyalty and devotion from the shinigami.

Misa and Rem’s plan had gone through perfectly. She had held onto the ownership, and the memories along with it, long enough to make sure that her plan had worked, that Light was really dead and his Death Note destroyed. But now, her work was done. The only thing left to do was to give up the notebook one more time, before anyone thought to question her about her possible involvement in the day’s events.

Everything was taken care of: Light, Takada, Mikami. Ryuk. The notebooks. The only thing left for Misa to do was let go.

Why couldn’t she let go?

Part of it was that the notebook was her only real source of power. L’s work was dangerous. As long as she had the notebook, she could keep him safe. Without it, she was nothing but a silly girl. What if someday, a situation would come where she needed it?

But she had already talked about this with Rem. Holding on to the notebook would put them in more risk, not less. The curse of misery on the notebook’s owner might well fall on him, if he let her stay by his side. And if anyone found out about it, they would be captured and tortured until they gave it up. Even if she thought she could keep it a secret forever, which she couldn’t, just owning the notebook would put a target on her back, as well as the backs of everyone close to her.

No, she was convinced that giving up the notebook was the safest thing for both of them, and the best chance for her to live a happy life by L’s side. That wasn’t the issue.

In the end, it came down to this: when her memories disappeared, the Misa who existed right now would be erased, replaced by the innocent Misa from the previous week. And this Misa wasn’t sure she was ready to fade away.

Maybe this line of thought was self-indulgent, given that she had just watched two people literally die at her own hands, but Misa couldn’t help wonder what the loss of her memories would mean. She wouldn’t remember the role she had played in stopping Kira. Everything that had happened the past few days—meeting with Rem, realizing that she didn’t want to see the world that Kira was building, deciding to protect L, discovering her own strength—would disappear. Would she even remember that she loved L?

This was the price that Misa would pay. She would never know if L might have forgiven her, or whether he could love the person who she was right now. There would always be a locked room somewhere in her mind, closed not only to L but to herself as well. She would always be incomplete, and L would never know her whole self.

In a way, this was a kind of death, too. The last life she took would be that of the person she was right now. This was her final gift to L. This Misa would be erased from the world, leaving behind the innocent Misa that L could keep without guilt. This Misa would die, so that L would never be forced to choose between his principles and his happiness.

Was he worth it? Misa knew the answer without even thinking.

So, finally, as the task force went to pieces around her, Misa raised her eyes to meet Rem’s and gave the slightest, the most imperceptible, of nods. I’m ready, Rem.

The shinigami reached out and gently stroked Misa’s cheek with her cold finger, something soft and sad and fond in her alien yellow eyes. “Goodbye, Misa Amane. I will be watching over you, so please be happy.”

Misa had to choke back tears for a moment before Rem pulled away. As the shinigami turned to leave, Misa let her gaze fall on L, who was still giving orders to the rest of the task force, full of frantic energy and curiosity about the day’s events. She knew this was for the best.

Things would be hard without her memories. She might be vulnerable, lost. She might go back to feeling fragmented, to being unable to understand why she felt the way that she did. But she would have L to help her though it. She had to trust that he would take care of her, the same way that she had taken care of him.

Still, Misa thought, crossing her fingers behind her back, eyes fixed on L, I just hope I remember that I love him. Please, just let me keep this one thing.

It felt like a wave sweeping through her mind, annihilating everything in its path. She repeated that wish in her mind, over and over, until even that began to dissolve. Panic and confusion welled up in her as she began to forget, but her eyes were still fixated on L’s face. There was something about him, something important, that she needed to remember. Wasn’t there?

Before she could stop herself, Misa tried to stand from the chair, calling out his name, the one she wasn’t supposed to say: “L—” Just as he turned to look at her, her knees buckled and she fell to the floor.

There was something she was supposed to remember. There was something… There was…

Chapter Text

There was… what was she thinking about? And why was she on the floor?

Blinking in confusion, Misa realized that she wasn’t alone. There were hands on her shoulders, and a face right in front of her own. It was L, kneeling in front of her, holding her up. His dark eyes were locked on hers, staring at her in something like fear. She got the feeling that he had been talking to her, but she hadn’t been listening. After a moment, she realized he was saying her name: “Misa.” Saying it urgently and shaking her by the shoulders as she sat there on the floor.

Misa shook her head. She felt like she had just woken up. “What happened?” she asked, looking around in confusion.

“You just collapsed. I thought you… Like Light…” It was rare for L to be too upset to speak coherently, but apparently thinking Misa might be having a heart attack had done it. That’s right, Light’s dead, she remembered with a bit of a jolt. It had been so shocking when he just collapsed out of nowhere like that!

“I’m fine,” she insisted, letting L help her to her feet. “I just got dizzy for a second.” For a second, she thought he might hug her, right in front of everyone. But he just gave her a strange look—part relief, part… suspicion?—and turned away. She felt a little upset that he wasn’t acting more concerned, but she knew they were supposed to be discreet in front of the others. Besides, Light’s sudden death must have thrown the whole team into a panic.

Especially Yagami. She could only imagine the pain the man must be going through. Losing her parents had been bad enough, but he had just watched his own child die before his eyes. It was horrible! Her heart ached at the thought of it.

Matsuda, at least, having returned from leading Yagami somewhere Watari could look after him, took the time to help Misa to the couch and got her a glass of water. He was a bit of an airhead, but he could be really kind. She accepted it with a grateful nod and watched the team get to work. They had all been so still, watching Light on the TV, but now they were all action.

L was in the center of the room, with Matsuda, Aizawa, and Mogi gathered in a circle around him. Even as he spoke, giving orders, his eyes kept darting over to Misa every few seconds. Was he really that worried about me?

“Aizawa, Mogi, I want the two of you to bring Yagami to his home. Bring a unit of police officers with you to search what’s left of the scene after the fire is extinguished. He will want to see his wife and daughter right away to make sure they’re safe. Mogi, if Yagami can’t do it, you will need to break the news to his family about Light’s death.” The two men nodded, looking weary at the prospect.

“Watari and I, along with another unit of officers, will go to Mikami’s home.” Matsuda looked like he was about to object, but L held up a finger to stop him. “It is important enough for me to go in person, but I will take every precaution and wait in the car until the location has been secured.”

Finally, he turned to Matsuda. “I need you to stay here and take care of Misa. Make sure she’s not harmed, but also don’t let her out of your sight. Until we know what’s happened today, she could be a suspect.”

Misa couldn’t even bring herself to complain about that. She was much more focused on something else that L had said. Unable to stop herself, she shouted, “You can’t go, Ryuuzaki! Kira’s obviously trying to lure you into a trap!”

With a sigh, L approached her, but Misa was ready to tell him off if he tried to act like she was being stupid. After how worried he had just looked over her getting a little dizzy, he had to understand why she might object to him going to meet Kira in person.

But instead of complaining, L crouched down in front of the couch so that he would be at Misa’s eye level. His eyes were soft on her. “I understand your concern, but I am confident in my ability to secure the situation. The police will go in first, wearing tinted helmets, fully armed, and take Mikami into custody. I will not leave the car or approach the house until he is handcuffed and blindfolded.”

“But—”

To her surprise, L took her hand, as though the rest of the task force wasn’t even there. “Misa, I have to see the Kira case through to the end. It’s my responsibility. I’ll be careful, but I have to go.”

Misa was still terrified, reeling from everything that had just happened. Something really, really strange was happening, and now Light was dead and everyone was freaking out, and she didn’t know what to do. She could feel herself on the verge of tears, just from the mere thought of L putting himself at risk to meet Kira. But she could see from L’s eyes that he wasn’t going to back down, so after a pause, she nodded.

With a small, grateful smile, L squeezed her hand once, and then he was up and moving out the door with Aizawa and Mogi trailing behind.

After all that commotion, the headquarters felt almost eerie when Misa and Matsuda were the only ones left. Even Watari was gone, accompanying L to take Kira into custody.

Surprisingly, she didn’t feel like crying over the deaths she had witnessed. Maybe she was just in shock, or maybe she really wasn’t that upset. It was a gruesome, shocking sight, but it was nothing compared to seeing her parents' dead bodies in front of her. She had loved Light so much, but that felt like almost a lifetime ago. But it was also hard to believe that he was really dead.

While Matsuda seemed slightly frustrated at being left behind, he hid it well. As they sat together on the couch, it was obvious to Misa that he was putting on a brave and cheerful face to try to distract her from the deaths they had witnessed and her worries for L’s safety. She appreciated him making the effort, no matter how obvious it was.

“So, uh,” Matsuda said, looking a little awkward. “You seemed pretty worried about Ryuuzaki. I didn’t know you were such close friends.”

Misa hummed. She could come up with some explanation, but she was so damn tired. She knew that L wanted her to keep things between them a secret, but it wasn’t her fault that he had acted suspiciously in front of everybody. And could she really be blamed if she was too tired to come up with a lie to fool Matsuda? She wasn’t going to tell him unprompted, but if he figured it out on his own…

The task force would find out eventually, right? If Kira really was turning himself in, then everyone would finally know that she was innocent. She figured it was only a matter of time before she started her campaign to convince L to publicly acknowledge her as his girlfriend. It might take a lot of whining, but she was sure he would give in. She knew she had the detective wrapped around her little finger.

“There’s been a lot of death today,” she said, her voice quiet. “Ryuuzaki is an important person to me.”

“Oh,” Matsuda said. She watched his face, and a second later, his eyes widened. “Oh. Um, I’m sorry if this is too nosy, or a stupid question, but… are you and Ryuuzaki, uh, involved?”

Misa had to fight back a smile. She knew that it was an inappropriate time for her to be smiling, after everything they had just witnessed, but she was surprised by just how good it felt to finally acknowledge their relationship to someone other than L and Watari. It was like having a friend. So, instead of denying it or deflecting the question, Misa just nodded her head.

Matsuda actually let out an audible gasp at her confirmation, even though he had already obviously had his suspicions, given that he was the one who asked. “Misa-Misa and Ryuuzaki?!” he exclaimed, loudly enough that Misa couldn’t help but grin. “I can barely believe it! I didn’t even think that Ryuuzaki was interested in that kind of thing.”

“What kind of thing?” Misa asked, tilting her head curiously.

Blushing, Matsuda rubbed the back of his head. “Um… women? Relationships? I honestly didn’t think he had it in him.”

Misa watched the shell-shocked man sit there, eyes wide, as he processed the information he had just received. It was almost like he had a stronger reaction to finding out L had an actual sex drive than to finding out that Teru Mikami was Kira. She was glad he had found out first, rather than someone serious like Aizawa who might be upset about L having a relationship with a suspect.

“Damn,” Matsuda said quietly, as though talking to himself. “Ryuuzaki moves fast. It seems I’ve missed my opportunity…”

“What do you mean?” Misa asked, her eyes wide and innocent. Of course, she had her suspicions, but it was better to play dumb. Especially because Matsuda might not want to admit it.

Matsuda let out a forced laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, nothing, just thinking out loud.” Misa nodded, allowing him to retain at least that much of his dignity. After a moment, his face softened, and he patted Misa gently on the shoulder. “You must be so concerned about him. But don’t worry, Misa-Misa. Ryuuzaki is the best in the world at what he does. He’ll be back here, safe and sound, before you even know it.”

A lump formed in Misa’s throat at Matsuda’s kindness. Before she could stop herself, she threw her arms around the man, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you, Matsuda. You’re a good friend.”

When she pulled away, Matsuda’s face was bright red, and he honestly looked a little dazed. But he still smiled and gave her a thumbs up. “With Misa-Misa cheering for him, Ryuuzaki is sure to be fine!” Misa smiled back, but it felt a little forced. She knew that she wouldn’t feel okay again until she saw for herself that L made it back alive.

When L returned from his mission, his face was troubled, but Misa’s heart still leapt at the sight of him. He made it. She wished that she could hug him, or at least talk to him, but there was no time for that yet. The second he returned, he called them all to a meeting in the main room—even Misa, which she found a little surprising, since she wasn’t part of the task force. What was even more surprising was when Yagami entered the room, trailing after Aizawa and Mogi. He looked horrible, with his eyes bloodshot and his face all splotchy. She would have expected him to stay with his family, especially since, according to Matsuda, their house had completely burned down, but she guessed he didn’t want to wait to find out what L had found.

They all looked around expectantly, the mood heavy, as L settled into his chair. He didn’t speak immediately, either, but rather took his time building up a tower of sugar cubes, which seemed to anger Aizawa, if the look on his face was anything to go by. But before he could speak up to chastise L, the detective spoke.

“When the police entered Teru Mikami’s house, he was already dead. The cause of death was suicide via hanging, and the initial inspection from the coroner suggests that he hung himself almost immediately after speaking to me on the phone.” At that, there were a few sharp inhalations from around the room. Misa covered her mouth with her hand in shock. The bodies were just piling up today.

L went on. “On the desk, I found this sealed envelope.” At that, he held up a small white envelope, labeled in pen, ‘For L’s eyes only.’ However, contrary to what he said, the envelope was open. “Inside of it was a letter containing Kira’s written confession, which I will read to you now.”

At that, holding the letter in the air in front of himself, pinched between the thumb and forefingers of each of his hands, L began to read. Even in such an important moment, his voice was monotonous as ever.

Greetings L,

My name is Teru Mikami, but you may also know me as Kira.

Today, I killed the son of the police chief and his girlfriend. I did this because they had been secretly investigating me. He had a notebook full of proof of my crimes which he planned to present to you soon, so I forced him to destroy the notebook before he died.

However, I found myself regretting this. I will not be telling you how I killed my victims, but you are probably aware that I can control the time of death. Once I arranged for their deaths, there was no way to stop them. But I realized I had gone too far.

When the second Kira killed innocents and law enforcement officers, I was forced to take their life and take their powers for my own. Their actions were not in line with my values as Kira. But I have fallen as low as them, by killing two bright young people who were only trying to make the world better.

I am no longer worthy of the name of Kira, and so I am giving up my mission. I have been judged unworthy, just like the criminals I killed. The last life I take will be my own.

My powers die with me. After my death, Kira will be gone from the world.

I am sincerely sorry for the pain that I have caused.

Signed, Teru Mikami

There was a moment of silence around the table, broken only by the startling occurrence of Yagami beginning to cry.

“Don’t cry, Chief!” Matsuda said, hands fluttering nervously. “In a way, Light saved us! His death convinced Kira to stop his killings for good! He’ll be remembered as a hero.”

Yagami raised his head. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. But you—” he said with a growl, turning on L, “You were wrong! Your false accusations against my son put him in a position where he had to investigate Mikami in order to clear his name. If anyone is responsible for Light’s death, it’s you!”

L let out a heavy sigh. “Yes, I failed in my duty as a detective. I can only apologize to you, and to Miss Amane, and ask both of you for forgiveness.”

“What?!” Misa blurted out, shocked into speaking.

“It seems that the second Kira, whoever they were, has long since been killed and had their powers stolen by Mikami, probably shortly after you were arrested, which is why the killings changed then. You never even met Mikami, correct? I remember you asking me who he was, the first time you saw him on television.” Misa nodded, her mouth still hanging open. “It seems I was wrong, not just about Light Yagami, but about you as well.”

He turned to address the rest of the task force. “Just to tie up loose ends, I will be personally interviewing Miss Amane, making sure that she had no involvement in the events that occurred today. But as of now, I think we can safely say that Misa and Light’s names have been cleared, and Kira has been brought to justice, if not by the methods we hoped.”

Yagami rose from his chair and slammed one hand down on the table, making Misa jump. “I don’t give a damn about that!” he said, glaring at L. “Whether his name is clear or not, my son is dead. You failed him.”

L only nodded once more, not trying to defend himself. After a moment, the chief stormed out of the room. Matsuda jumped up, as if to follow him, but Aizawa put a hand on his arm. “Give him time,” he said quietly. “He’s in mourning. He needs to be with his family.” Matsuda nodded, his face grim.

“Teru Mikami…” Mogi said, voice low and thoughtful. “I can’t believe it. He was so bold, going right out on TV and speaking on behalf of Kira. He was right under our noses all along.”

“Yes,” L said, touching his thumb to his lip. “He was a suspect, but I thought he was unlikely to be the original Kira for that reason. I did not expect Kira to be such a public figure. To be honest, I am embarrassed that I failed to catch him before now.”

“Are you sure we can trust his confession?” Aizawa asked. “What if the real Kira is using Mikami as a scapegoat? We know that Kira can manipulate his victims’ actions before death.”

L nodded. “Yes, I thought of that, too. We have been assuming that Kira can only kill via a heart attack, but I suppose it’s not impossible that Kira could have forced Mikami to confess and commit suicide. The fact that Mikami died immediately after trying to confess is… suspicious. But there’s no way to know for certain yet. I think we should wait and see if the killings continue. If they don’t, then Teru Mikami was really Kira. If they do, then we’ll have to re-open the investigation.”

After a moment, he stood. “We can meet later to discuss the details, but as of now, I am declaring the Kira case provisionally closed. It’s been a long night. All of you are free to go.”

Misa watched in silence as the members of the task force filed out. Any happiness they might have felt at Kira’s downfall seemed to be overshadowed by their grief over Light’s death.

As for Misa, she wasn’t even sure what she felt. She had come to feel, recently, that Kira might not be so great after all. Mostly, she had just been worried for L. So while she was a little surprised that Kira had given up on his mission so quickly (and that he had turned out to be that creepy guy from the TV), she was mostly just happy that the detective was safe.

“Misa,” L said, glancing at the cameras. “Can I speak to you in my room, please?”

Misa nodded, still shocked into near-silence, and followed him. As soon as the door shut behind them, though, she blurted out, “I can’t believe it! Teru Mikami was Kira the whole time?!”

L simply looked at her for a second, then, without a word, walked over to his couch and climbed onto it, dropping into his usual crouch. He said there, waiting, until Misa followed and sat down beside him. Then, suddenly, he spoke.

“He was not.”

“What?” Misa snapped her head around to look at him, her mouth open in shock. She wasn’t sure if she could take another twist in the story today. It was so late, and she hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before.

“There were two notes in the envelope in Mikami’s residence. I only shared one with the task force. I brought you to my room so that I could share with you the contents of the second note.”

Why me? Why me, and not any of the task force? But Misa’s curiosity got the better of her, and she only nodded. Fishing a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, L held it up and began to read.

Dear L,

The first note in this envelope is meant for you to read to the Kira task force. This second note is for you alone. You may keep it to yourself or share it with the others. That is up to you.

The Yagami boy was the first Kira. Takada was his accomplice. This note was put on paper by the hand of the third Kira, Teru Mikami, but the words were written by me, the second Kira.

As he spoke, his eyes flashed up to Misa for a second, and her eyes widened in shock. Light was Kira? Then L was right this whole time?! She stared at the detective as if seeing him for the first time. He paused before continuing, as if waiting to see if she would speak, but she was struck dumb by this revelation.

By the time you read this letter, all three of them will be dead. Their deaths are my gift to you.

“I thought Mikami’s death was a suicide?” Misa blurted out.

L nodded, looking thoughtful. “I think this means that Kira, or at least the second Kira, can kill via methods other than a heart attack. They must have forced Mikami to write these notes to me before taking his own life.”

After a moment, when she didn’t speak again, he continued.

I won’t be using the power of Kira anymore, and neither will anyone else. I have made sure that the power will disappear from this earth. You will never know my identity, or how I killed, but the world will be free of Kira, just as you wanted.

Please accept this truce and do not try to come after me. The deaths are over. I am not a threat to anyone anymore, and even if you manage to catch me, you will only be risking your own life for no reason. I am protected by forces that you can’t understand and that I can’t control.

I have found happiness. I may not deserve it, but I have it anyway. My only wish is to be allowed to spend my life in peace with the one that I love.

Yours,
The Second Kira

There was a long silence, during which L never once took his eyes off Misa. She hummed thoughtfully and clasped her hands together. “Wow, that’s so romantic!”

L huffed out a breath in surprise. “Three people are dead, we’ve been contacted by the second Kira, and your first response is, ‘How romantic’?”

“Don’t you think so?” she insisted, eyes shining. “To give up everything for love… Misa thinks something like that is really cool.”

L shook his head at her, but he couldn’t hide his wry smile. “Romantic or not, I’ve got to send the other letter to be analyzed. Though somehow, I feel like it will be a dead end…”

“So you’re just going to let the second Kira go?” Misa demanded, staring at him.

L frowned. “I wasn’t lying when I said to Aizawa that I wanted to wait and see what happens, even if I lied to him about Kira’s identity. If the killings stop, then yes, I will let them go. Chasing the second Kira doesn’t seem like a good use of my time if they truly are done killing. If the killings continue, then I will have to re-open the investigation.”

“What about the task force? You’re not going to tell them the truth?”

“I thought about it the whole way back, but I decided not to. Not unless the killings begin again. Chief Yagami is devastated by the loss of his son. The only thing keeping him together is the belief that Light died a hero. If he finds out Light was really Kira all along, he might never recover. I suspect he might even commit suicide. And if I tell the other members of the task force, I will always have to worry that one will let something slip to Yagami.”

Misa frowned. “But he was so angry at you! He said Light’s death was your fault, and you didn’t even defend yourself.”

L let out a long sigh, letting his head fall to rest against the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “Yes, you’re correct. That was unpleasant, but I will be moving on soon. When that happens, I will probably never see Yagami again. It is better that he hate me, a detective who he only knew for a short time, and continue to believe in the innocence of his son. That is the more important thing.”

At this, Misa felt a lump in her throat, and she let her hand rest on L’s shoulder without thinking. “You seem cold sometimes, but you’re really a very kind person, you know.” He had done so much to allow Light’s father to grieve in peace, and no one but Misa, and maybe Watari, would ever give him credit for it. At that, L met her eyes, giving her a weak smile.

L seemed lost in thought, so Misa didn’t speak again. Eventually, she replaced her hand on his shoulder with her head, leaning against him. She just needed to rest for a minute; it had been such a long day. She just needed to rest...

Misa slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep, right there on L’s couch. In her mostly unconscious state, she registered some amount of movement, a feeling of arms under her back and legs, a settling down into a softer, warmer place, but the sensations slipped out of her mind as quickly as they came. It wasn’t until she woke up the next morning in L’s bed that she realized he must have carried her there and tucked her in.

She slowly came back to consciousness, blinking in the morning light, trying to remember where she was and what she was doing. “What time is it?” she mumbled.

“Eleven in the morning,” a voice said, and she blinked the sleep out of her eyes to focus on the dark-haired figure beside her. “You seemed like you could use some rest, and I wanted to think more, so I gave the task force the morning off. Aizawa, Mogi, and Matsuda will be arriving after lunch today. You can stay here and continue to rest when I go to work if you like.”

So many details right when I just woke up… Misa was still processing her memories of the night before, of Light’s death and the notes Mikami left behind, so it took her a moment to understand what L was saying. Finally, though, she drew herself up to a sitting position on his bed. She was still in her clothes from yesterday, and her makeup must be smeared all over her face as well. She hoped L didn’t mind too much.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, I’m awake now,” she said, though the small yawn she let out contradicted her words.

As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw that L was squatting on top of the covers, staring at the second Kira’s letter. Misa leaned into his side, wondering if he had slept at all. Had he just been going over the letter all night? “You don’t look very happy,” she observed. “Kira’s gone and won’t kill anyone anymore. You were right about his identity all along! And now that we’re safe, you could take me out on a real date…”

Ignoring that last comment, L clenched his fist. “That may be, but this isn’t satisfying at all. I hate failing to solve a case. I didn’t defeat Kira. I don’t even know how he killed. I failed to catch Light or prove his guilt. The outcome may be good, but both Light and I were defeated by a third player, and I may never find out who it was or how they pulled it off.”

“Hmm.” Misa rested her chin on her hand, a thoughtful expression passing over her face. “Wow, I wonder what kind of a person the second Kira is. I mean, you and Light are the smartest people I’ve ever met. They must be really incredible if they managed to defeat you both.”

L looked up from the letter and turned to meet her eyes. There was something uncomfortably perceptive about his stare, like he could look into her mind and see things that even she didn’t know were there. Misa wanted to look away, but some instinct forced her to hold his gaze. She tilted her head at him with an uncertain smile, and he nodded, looking like he had come to some conclusion. “Yes. I suppose they must be.” He paused. “I love you, too, you know.”

Misa’s heart fluttered and an uncontrollable smile lit up her face. She was about to say it back when something hit her, and she wrinkled her forehead in confusion. “Wait, ‘too’? What do you mean? When did I say it?!” She was sure she would remember if she had already told L she loved him. That wasn’t the kind of thing a girl just forgot, after all.

The jerk didn’t even answer, just looked at her with an infuriatingly cryptic smile, like he was having fun at her expense. “You’re such a weirdo,” Misa grumbled. “I can’t believe I’m in love with such a weirdo.” At that, L’s smile grew wider, more genuine. After a moment of smiling at each other like idiots, Misa asked, “Hey, now that the Kira case is over, where will you go next?”

L touched a finger to his lip in thought. “Back to England, I think, at least for a bit.” Misa was about to ask, ‘Back?’, but before she could, he went on. “That’s where I was raised. The orphanage is still there, and I owe some people a long overdue visit.”

England! The place where L grew up! People who knew him when he was younger and might have funny stories about him! Misa was full of excitement and energy just thinking about it. “I’ve never been to England. What’s the weather like this time of year?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, I have to know what to pack,” Misa explained. “Oh, I guess we’ll need to wait until my movie finishes filming. But I’m sure you’ll have stuff to wrap up here for the case, right?”

There was a silence as L looked at her, his eyes almost sad. “Misa…”

Before he could say anything more, Misa rolled to face him and pointed her index finger at him firmly, poking him in the chest, getting right up in his face. He blinked at her in surprise. “No. L Lawliet, I know you are not thinking that you can just confess to me like that and then run off to another continent. You’re stuck with me now. Where you go, I go. If you try to ditch me in Japan, I will still figure out where you went and track you down, and I’ll be really cranky with you when I find you, too. So you might as well save yourself the trouble and just take me with you.”

Misa pulled back a little and winked at him. “Trust me, you wouldn’t like me when I’m cranky. I know I don’t look like much, but I’m very determined, and I can be scary when I want to!” She bared her teeth theatrically and formed a claw with her hand, letting out a cute little growl. “You don’t want to get on my bad side.”

She was joking around, of course, but L responded, with a straight face, “Trust me, Misa, I believe that.” He paused for a moment. “I just don’t want to put you in danger. You know what my job is like.”

“All the more reason for me to go!” Misa insisted. “If you try to leave me behind for my protection, who will protect you? You need Misa to keep you safe.”

L looked her up and down, his gaze considering. “By the time your film shoot finishes, it’ll be winter. It snows a lot in Winchester. You’re going to need an umbrella and a warm coat.”

Misa beamed at him. “You’ll take me? Good, I was worried I’d have to stow away in your luggage or something.”

L laughed a little to himself, probably at the mental image of Misa stuffing herself into a suitcase. “I’m going to have a hell of a time explaining this to Watari.” He looked at Misa again, then wrapped one arm around her and drew her close, planting a kiss on her forehead. “But you’re worth it. A Misa is a lucky thing to have around, particularly in a dangerous job like mine. I shudder to think what might become of me without her.”

For all his teasing words, L’s voice sounded oddly serious. Misa buried her face in his chest with a contented sigh. “You’re damn right.”

There was still so much that Misa didn’t know, that she didn’t understand. Like who the second Kira was, or why they had decided to suddenly kill the other two Kiras and give up their powers, or how she had never known that her ex-boyfriend was Kira. Really, almost everything that had happened the past few days was a blur. She wondered if she might be in shock or something.

But there were things that Misa did know. She knew that she and L were safe from Kira now. She knew that she was happy. She knew that, for the first time since losing her parents, she was loved. And maybe it meant she was simple, but she felt like that was enough.

Chapter Text

A few more months passed before Misa’s film shoot finally wrapped. L was anxious enough to leave the country that they didn’t stick around to wait for the premiere. Misa didn’t complain; it was already a small miracle, in her eyes, that he had waited around in Tokyo for the past few months without trying to skip town in the middle of the night.

What’s more, she didn’t even have to hide herself in his suitcase after all. When the three of them—L, Misa, and Watari—left Japan, it was on a private jet, with big, comfortable seats for each of them and plenty of room for Misa’s enormous collection of suitcases. She had never flown overseas before, so she was grateful that her first time was happening in such luxury. With his lack of interest in material goods, it was easy to forget just how rich her boyfriend actually was, but in situations like this, it definitely came in handy. (Not that Misa didn’t have her own money, being a big idol and all, but she hadn’t caught up to L’s level of wealth just yet.)

Though it had taken a lot of pleading and whining, because L was used to leaving without saying goodbye to anyone, he had finally agreed to invite the men of the task force, along with Misa’s sister, to see them off at the airport. To her disappointment, her sister hadn’t cared enough to travel to Tokyo to say goodbye. Yagami had turned them down as well; he seemed to be completely uninterested in ever seeing L again.

So when the day came for them to leave Japan, the only people who came were Matsuda, Mogi, and Aizawa. The latter two had found out about Misa and L’s relationship while they were finishing the last details of the case, and while they had been shocked at first, they had eventually grown to accept it. Still, the way the men looked at the two of them was slightly different now, as if seeing L in a new light. Misa thought they were trying to reconcile their brilliant, isolated leader with the way that he indulged his girlfriend, letting her cling to him and chatter as much as she wanted.

They didn’t make much small talk, and what conversation did happen was instigated by Misa, as L seemed to just want to leave as soon as possible. After a minute or two of saying their goodbyes, standing on the tarmac in front of the private plane, Misa hugged each of the three men in turn. Aizawa looked slightly uncomfortable and disinterested at the physical contact, but Matsuda blushed bright red, and even Mogi looked a little pink.

“I’m actually going to miss you guys,” Misa said. “Even if you did lock me up for something I didn’t do, like a bunch of jerks.” She winked at them to communicate that she wasn’t really mad.

L was shifting uncomfortably next to her, looking like he wanted to bolt into the plane right away, but he finally said (in an overly formal tone of voice, betraying his discomfort), “Good work, all of you. I appreciate your help with the investigation. You are all fine police officers.”

Mogi and Aizawa simply bowed their heads at that, but Matsuda seemed a little too touched by the compliment. Misa could see tears welling up in his eyes, and, glancing at the man who stood beside her, she had to suppress a smile at the look of utter panic on L’s face. Luckily, the other two men noticed what was happening, and before Matsuda could speak or try to go in for a hug, Mogi clapped him roughly on the back and said, “Have a safe flight,” tacitly giving them permission to leave. Matsuda closed his mouth and swallowed, and L, looking grateful, nodded once and immediately started making his way to the stairs leading up to the plane.

Because they were holding hands, and she refused to let go, Misa ended up being tugged along after him. She looked back at the three men with an apologetic smile, waving with her free hand as L dragged her away. Mogi and Matsuda couldn’t seem to help but stare at where her fingers intertwined with L’s, expressions of something like incredulousness on their faces. Even now, it seemed, they weren’t used to viewing the detective in that light.

Once in the plane, Misa watched out the window. Despite the awkward goodbyes, all three men stayed where they were, watching in silence as the plane took off. They didn’t seem to turn to leave until after the point that they were too far in the distance for her to see.

Misa sat dutifully in her own seat for takeoff, all buckled in and everything, with only minimal complaining, but as soon as they hit cruising altitude, she un-clasped her seat belt and climbed into L’s lap instead. She didn’t bother to ask permission or announce her intentions, just insistently boarded him, much like a cat would.

“Hello there,” the detective said, a hint of amusement on his face. “Did you not like your seat?”

“No,” Misa responded, pouting a little, as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “It wasn’t comfortable enough. You make a much better seat.”

“What a shame. This jet was quite expensive,” L responded dryly. “Maybe we should complain.”

Misa nuzzled against his neck with a sigh, a sly tone entering her voice. “If it was so expensive, why didn’t it come with a bedroom? With such a long, boring flight, it would be nice if we could—”

Watari, from his seat three feet away from them, cleared his throat. “Miss Amane, do remember that I can hear everything you’re saying,” he remarked. “And for the record, I chose a jet without a bed because I have no interest in spending the next twelve hours listening to the two of you, well…”

Watari had warmed to her over the past few months, but his job as L’s handler had become substantially more uncomfortable since the Kira case was closed. Between Misa’s complete lack of shame (her full name, L had once remarked, could be “Misa PDA Amane”) and L’s disinclination to try to reign her in, Watari had overheard—and, on a few occasions, seen—more of their private activities together than the older man had ever wanted or needed to. He seemed to exist in a perpetual state of exasperation with the two of them.

L had been helping Misa with her English in preparation for their trip, and he had neglected to inform Watari of that fact for awhile, which meant that she had overheard more than a few of Watari’s snide comments over their relationship. At one point, after bringing the two of them some tea, she had caught him muttering to himself, “It’s like having a bloody teenager. Twenty-five years old and he’s finally hit puberty.”

Back in the present, though, Misa held her hand to her mouth as if shocked. “Watari, you have such a perverted mind! I was going to say we could take a nap.”

“Of course. My apologies, Miss Amane,” Watari responded, in a tone of voice that made it perfectly clear he wasn’t buying it one bit. L snorted at the banter between the two of them.

Misa winked at him. “But now that you put the idea in my head, maybe we could just cover ourselves with a blanket…”

L huffed a little behind her. “I think Watari has already been scarred enough, Misa. Let’s not push him any further. It would be a great inconvenience to have to find someone new to bring me cakes.”

“Much appreciated,” Watari said, spreading open his newspaper in order to better ignore them.

Misa hadn’t really been serious; she just enjoyed embarrassing L in front of his dignified handler. She was more than happy to curl into his chest and look out the window together in comfortable silence. L’s arm wrapped around her waist, his fingers drawing little circles on her side, and she pointed out shapes in the clouds they passed.

When they landed in London, there was already a sleek black car waiting for them. Watari had rented it for the hour-long drive to Winchester. It was eerie, passing through the London airport and city center without ever interacting with another person, but that was what wealth got you, she supposed.

A relationship between L and Misa required a great deal of balancing, given that the two of them lived on the opposite extremes of the spectrum in terms of privacy. On the one end, there was Misa Amane, the pop idol who couldn’t step out in Tokyo undisguised without being swarmed by fans or paparazzi. On the other hand, there was L, whose appearance and identity was meant to be completely unknown to the world.

At least for now, though, Misa’s fame overseas was probably minor enough for her to be able to go out in public without too much attention—so long as she wore a cap and sunglasses. L had even agreed to take her to see some of the sights, like Buckingham Palace and the Tower of London, once they got settled in. With Kira truly gone, the risk to him wasn’t as great. Even if Misa were recognized, the world had no way of knowing that the model’s mysterious, eccentric boyfriend Ryuuzaki and the detective L were one in the same person.

Misa would have to enjoy the anonymity while it lasted, as she had plans to start picking up modeling jobs in London soon and expand into the British scene. After some negotiating, it had been agreed that Watari would be in charge of making sure she wasn’t followed by the press after her jobs—while it was fine for the world to know that Misa Amane was living in England, it wouldn’t do for her to be followed back to Wammy’s House and bring attention to the reclusive geniuses living there.

L’s jobs would be another thing entirely. While he hoped to do most of his work from the apartment that had been prepared for them at Wammy’s House, solving cases remotely while mentoring his successors in person, there would inevitably be cases in the future that required him to travel. They still hadn’t decided how to handle those cases—whether Misa would stay behind in England or follow him. While she liked the idea of seeing the world with him, she didn’t want to cancel modeling jobs at the last minute, and she certainly couldn’t work while following L for a case. With the amount of scrutiny L brought upon himself, it would be only a matter of time before someone noticed that the idol Misa Amane always seemed to be working at the same time and place as the famous detective L.

But that was a problem for another day. For now, Misa was content to sleepily lay her head on L’s shoulder and watch the snowy fields pass by as they headed out of the city.

They had arrived in England just in time for the holiday season, with Christmas—and Misa’s birthday—right around the corner. The colorful lights on the houses they passed transformed the gray landscapes into something warm and inviting. It was quiet and peaceful, sitting in the back of the car with L as Watari drove them through the countryside. L seemed to be in a pensive mood, speaking little throughout the car ride, but as they passed the sign for Winchester, he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her temple.

Misa’s heart sped up just a little as they approached the black iron gates of the orphanage. (Part of her found it slightly ironic, or even funny, that she was moving into an orphanage. It was the place for someone of her family status, she supposed. She had moved on enough that the thought didn’t hurt her as much as it used to.) She had never imagined, upon first meeting L, that in less than a year he would be bringing her to live in the same place where he had grown up. What would it be like? What if they didn’t like her?

As the car rolled through the gates, she saw children gathering in the yard a distance away, whispering to each other and shooting curious glances. The kids seemed too shy to approach, just staring at them from afar as Watari pulled the car to a stop and got out to open the door for them.

Misa had taken full advantage of L’s deep pockets to buy herself some new outfits for her move abroad, and she was confident she looked stylish and festive in her knitted sweater dress, dark tights, and knee-high boots. She wasn’t sure how far her looks would get her, given that the students at this school probably placed more importance on brains than appearances, but she tried her best to look friendly and self-assured as she emerged from the car. She needed to make a good first impression.

Still, she found herself hanging off L’s arm for support under the scrutiny of the kids. Not that L seemed to mind. He’d never say as much, but she thought that L liked when she clung to him in public. He wasn’t exactly a normal young man, but he seemed to enjoy when she played cute and took his arm like he was a normal guy—a gentleman, even. He seemed to take pride in the strange looks that the pair of them got: the awkward, odd-looking man and his cute, loud, stylish girlfriend. And Misa didn’t mind playing the trophy girlfriend for him. She loved watching him struggle to hide his pleasure and pride at having Misa on his arm. Whatever his quirks, she knew that, with him, she would never be taken for granted.

So Misa clung to his side, pretending not to notice the weight of dozens of eyes on them, as Watari led them through the front doors of the house. He had informed them that the staff would be unloading their suitcases for them, so she carried only her purse with her. The entryway was big and warm, festively decorated for the season. As she looked around, she noticed three pairs of eyes peeking out from around the corner of the hallway. With a small grin on her face, Misa swept her eyes right past them, as if she didn’t notice, but decided to put on a show.

After pulling off her scarf and gloves, Misa turned to L and stood up on her tiptoes, winding her arms smoothly around his neck as she pulled him down for a kiss. Both of their lips were cold from just the few seconds outside, but his breath was warm against her face. While he looked a little surprised at the sudden display of affection, he accepted it as he always did, his hands settling around the small of her back.

There was a small gagging noise from around the corner, and Misa couldn’t help but giggle against L’s mouth, breaking the kiss.

“You might as well come out and introduce yourselves,” Watari said, amusement in his voice, and the three spies emerged from their hiding place. “Meet our three star pupils: Near, Mello, and Matt. Boys, this is L and his girlfriend, Misa Amane.” The kids he introduced were three boys, all looking to be in their early teens: a small boy with a shock of white curls, a skinny boy with blond hair not unlike Misa’s and arms crossed over his chest, and a redhead who seemed to be the most relaxed of the three.

Misa watched with amusement as emotions flicked over their faces (well, at least over two of their faces, as the white-haired boy wasn’t exactly expressive): awe at meeting their mentor for the first time, surprise at his casual, disheveled appearance, and then something like shock at the sight of Misa hanging on his arm. She suspected that no one had mentioned to the kids that she would be accompanying L, which was fine with her.

It was kind of hilarious, watching these boys grapple with the knowledge that their mentor not only had a girlfriend, but a girlfriend who looked like she did. Mello in particular was so incapable of keeping a straight face that it felt like she was watching his brain in real time as he coped with the existential shock of discovering that L, his mysterious, genius role model, was getting some. Misa could barely hold back her laughter.

The two older boys seemed to pull themselves together enough to nod in greeting, giving them a polite, “Nice to meet you.” Misa smiled at them, then turned to consider the youngest of the three, who had yet to speak. He was only looking at the two of them quietly, shifting a little uncomfortably where he stood.

On the flight over, L had told Misa a little about his successors—though his own information about them came only from files, not from personal interaction, other than a brief encounter with Mello many years before. She had been briefed on what to expect and how to get along with them.

But it was not a surprise to L, nor to Watari, when all of that information seemed to fly out of Misa’s head the second she laid eyes on the boys—and, more specifically, on Near, who at 13 years old was just a hair shorter than Misa, standing there in his pajamas looking entirely disinterested in the whole thing. Unlike Matt and Mello, who were openly staring, Near’s face was blank and calm… up until the moment that Misa squealed, “Oh my GOD, he’s so cute! He looks like a little marshmallow!”, threw her arms around the boy, and swept him up into the air. It wasn’t often that Misa found someone small enough for her to lift, and she seemed intent on cuddling him, like he was a small animal of some sort.

No one, except for Misa, was surprised when Near immediately bit down on her arm, causing her to shriek in pain and drop him. He smoothed out his pajamas and white, fluffy hair, looking bored again now that he was free of her grasp. Misa, on the other hand, was aghast, whining to L, “He bit me!” This was all too much for Matt and Mello, who seemed to forget their intentions to make a good first impression on L, and the two boys leaned against each other as they broke into a fit of laughter at the spectacle of Misa and Near.

Even Watari couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “I think that’s enough excitement for now. Why don’t I show you two to your quarters so you can get settled in?”

Wammy’s House was not exactly equipped for a pair of adults to move in, being primarily a dormitory. However, the few months that it had taken them to wrap up their business in Tokyo had given the head of the house, Roger, plenty of time to move things around to create an attic apartment for the two of them, complete with a bedroom, a sitting room, and a small kitchen. Watari would have quarters elsewhere in the house, giving him at least a little desperately needed space from the overly affectionate couple, and L would also have his own office from which to work.

Their suitcases were already stacked in the center of the sitting room by the time they arrived, and Misa decided to postpone the unpacking for later, throwing herself onto the bed (their bed!) with a small sigh. The apartment wasn’t that big, but it was cozy, and she was grateful that the house had made space to accommodate her. She hoped that they would be spending more of their time out in the common areas, interacting with the other residents—though, of course, having their own private space was a must, if they ever wanted to cuddle or kiss without teenagers making gagging noises or whistling at them.

Misa hoped that the residents of Wammy’s House would like her. She had spent her last Christmas and birthday alone, with her parents dead and her sister too busy with work to spend with her. (Though that might have just been an excuse; she and her sister had never been very close to begin with.) It would be nice to spend it not only with L, but with the children of the house as well.

They were orphans, just like her, and Misa had always liked kids. She and L hadn’t spoken about it yet, given that she was nineteen and they had only been officially dating for a few months, but she knew that with his job, having a normal life with children of their own might not ever be on the table for the two of them. But she hoped that, here in England, they might find something like a family. She liked to imagine herself taking on a sort of big-sisterly role for the children. From reading between the lines when Watari spoke of them, and from her own experience losing her parents, she imagined they must be lonely. Misa might not be smart enough to be one of them, but maybe she could bring some warmth and cheerfulness to their lives, and get something she needed in return: a place to belong.

Closing her eyes as she lay back in the duvet, she allowed herself to daydream a bit. Her fantasies were sweet, almost domestic. She imagined herself baking cookies for the kids, teaching the girls how to use makeup, teasing the boys about their crushes. Getting to know all of them, their names and their stories and the things they liked and disliked. Reading to the younger ones, or giving them hugs when they had bad dreams. Even child prodigies like Near and Mello were still just kids, after all. And with all the pressures they faced, she thought they might appreciate having an adult around who didn’t care about their grades, who would accept them no matter what.

(Not to mention that, with this many eccentric, gifted people living under one roof, it might do them some good to have someone with actual social skills around to smooth out conflicts. L had told her about the rivalry between Mello and Near, and the way the younger boy was bullied. She wondered if she might be able to get through to them, or at least get Near to open up a little.)

Misa knew what it was like to be alone, without the love of a family. L had given her back what she had been missing without her parents: love and acceptance and warmth. And now she found that she had more than enough to share, so maybe she could pass it on to the kids of Wammy’s House. Misa thought that, if she could just make their lives a little brighter while she was here, she would feel like she had made a real difference.

The feeling of L’s weight as he sat on the bed beside her stirred Misa out of her thoughts, and she opened her eyes to find him already staring at her, seemingly lost in contemplation. Even now, his staring never failed to make her feel self-conscious, and she blushed a little, looking away. She watched the snowflakes fall down into the courtyard outside their window. “Something on your mind?” she asked him after a second.

L pulled his knees up to his chest, touching his thumb to his mouth. “I think I told you once that I found it hard to believe a person like Misa exists,” he said, and she nodded, thinking back to their conversation in her hotel room. She stayed quiet, letting L speak in his own time. “I still feel that way sometimes. You’ve got an air of unreality to you most of the time, like you’re set apart from your surroundings. It’s… stronger here. Seeing Misa Amane here, in the place where I grew up, it’s difficult for me to believe that you’re real. I almost feel like if I fall asleep, I’ll wake up to find that this whole thing was a dream.”

He’s always got such a unique way of putting things, Misa thought to herself, smiling softly. She extended a hand towards him. “Well, I promise you that I’m really real. Look, you can touch me and find out for yourself.”

Taking Misa’s hand in both of his, L turned it over, gently, and held it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the pulse of her wrist, and she shivered.

“Come on,” Misa said, pulling back after a moment so that she could reposition herself under the duvet rather than on top of it. “It’s cold out. Get under the covers with me. You can warm me up, and we won’t come out until you’re fully convinced that I’m real.”

With a slow smile spreading over his face, L stood up just long enough to get under the blanket. He wrapped his arm around Misa’s waist, pulling her in for a long, slow kiss, like they had all the time in the world.

And they did.

Four and a half years later

Despite pressure from Wammy and Roger, L still had not chosen a successor. As he wasn’t dead yet, and wasn’t likely to retire anytime soon, if ever, the title of L was still his, and probably would be for a long time yet. However, he had passed off most of Coil and Deneuve’s cases to his candidates Near and Mello, who were now 17 and 19, respectively: more than old enough to handle the responsibility. On very, very rare occasions, the two even worked together. Much more frequently, Mello’s best friend Matt tagged along to assist him.

L didn’t mind, but it made him feel a little strange to see a potential successor with a close friend, someone they trusted enough to share their cases with. That was something L had never had, had never even dreamed would be possible when he was their age, and Mello didn’t even seem to see it as strange.

Misa had been trying to sell L on a concept called “work-life balance.” He wasn’t sure if he believed in that sort of thing, but he did at least accept that he couldn’t keep a girlfriend if he was working 24 hours a day. (23, on the other hand…) And he did have to admit that passing some cases off to Near and Mello did make it possible for him to have an unprecedented amount of free time. He had even considered, in the future, letting one or both of them take on some of L’s cases, specifically the ones that would require him to spend more than a month overseas.

He wasn’t “settling down,” exactly, but this might be as close as someone like him could get.

Unlike during the Kira case, when she had been restricted to her room and spending her time alone while he worked, Misa actually had a life outside of L. There was her work, yes, but more than that, there were the kids. Over the years, they had grown to accept Misa as just another feature of Wammy’s House, somewhere in between an unofficial guidance counselor and a mascot. She had her hands full most days, whether she was looking after the younger kids or mediating arguments between the older ones. No one had asked her to take on this role; she had just sort of assumed it of her own accord.

On this day in particular, though, L was facing a bit of a snag: Near had managed to break into L’s laptop and read through the Kira case files. L should have seen it coming. Both Near and Mello had been curious about the case for years, frustrated by the little inconsistencies in his story (which included the true identity of Kira, Light Yagami, but not the identity of the second Kira). And though he had scrubbed the files of any information that might incriminate Misa, that hadn’t been enough to fool Near. Within a few hours of reading the files, he had solved the puzzle.

Luckily, rather than reacting badly, he had mostly been curious and had approached L to ask for the full story. The past few years, working by L’s side, slowly forming something almost like a friendship with Mello, had been good for Near, and while he was still closed off, he was able to communicate with others in a way he hadn’t been before.

So the two of them had talked all afternoon, alone in L’s office. By the time the sun was setting, they had both almost run out of things to say.

Near had a thoughtful look on his face as he absorbed the information. “She really doesn’t remember?”

“She doesn’t,” L confirmed, nodding his head. “Over the years, I’ve considered telling her, but I suspect she chose to forget for a reason. I want to respect her choice.” Near’s only response was a soft hum. After a moment, L went on, glancing down at the younger boy where he sat on the floor. “I trust, of course, that this information will stay between the two of us? I know that Mello is curious, but he’s less capable of keeping a secret than you, so it would be best if you could keep this from him.”

Near didn’t respond verbally, but he nodded. It was always hard to tell with him, but L suspected he enjoyed knowing something that the others didn’t. After a moment, Near spoke, though his voice was quiet and he didn’t turn to face his mentor. “It might be difficult for others to believe, anyway. Misa is…”

He trailed off, but L understood. The Misa that the Wammy’s kids knew was bright and cheery, always baking and singing and joking around. She listened to the students’ problems and remembered things about them, and even had cute nicknames for her favorites. If L hadn’t seen her when she was the second Kira, if he had only known the version of Misa that the students here knew, he too would find it hard to believe.

L waited for Near to speak again, to ask more questions. He had always suspected that this day would come, that one of his successors would find out what Misa had done, and he would be asked to explain himself. They would want to know how he could have forgiven her. How he could have let her crimes go unpunished. How he could love her after the blood she had spilled and the lives she had taken.

But the question never came. They sat there in comfortable silence, Near playing with his toys, L staring out the window in thought, until a knock came at the door.

A moment later, the woman in question entered the room: Misa Amane, twenty-four years old, her blonde hair grown down to the middle of her back. While she still did gothic photoshoots fairly often, she dressed more casually these days when she wasn’t working, having outgrown the more attention-grabbing clothing style of her youth. Today, for example, she was wearing a breezy floral sundress. She swept into the room with a smile, setting two cups of tea and a pile of sugar cubes down on L’s desk, before crouching on the floor next to Near. “How’s it going, marshmallow?” she asked, reaching out to ruffle his white hair with a fond smile.

Misa spoke English with the kids now—her skills had improved greatly during her years at Wammy’s, and she’d had no shortage of tutors and conversation partners. Near had actually been one of her most dedicated tutors. It was thanks to him that she had improved enough to win her first speaking role in an English language film.

Ever since that first meeting, Near had been Misa’s favorite. She always had a big smile for him, even though it had taken years for him to speak more than a few words to her at a time. L privately thought that Misa’s relationship with himself had been good practice for striking up a friendship with Near. She had learned well how to deal with aloof, asocial geniuses: just blast them with so much concentrated extroversion and friendliness that they couldn’t help but warm up to her, even if she drove them crazy half the time. Misa grew on people like that.

He was seeing the results now: while Near pushed her hand away in annoyance, running his own hand through his hair to undo the results of her ruffling, he swore he could see the hint of a smile on the boy’s face, and he started to speak, telling Misa the mundane details about his week (leaving out, of course, his discovery and subsequent conversation with L). L didn’t expect Misa had much interest in what Near was learning in his classes, but she listened to him with her full attention, prompting him to tell her more whenever he trailed off.

L realized, then, why Near hadn’t asked how L could love her after everything she had done. Near hadn’t asked because he, like everyone else at Wammy’s House, already knew. There wasn’t a person in that building who didn’t love Misa Amane, at least a little.

(Even tough-as-nails Mello had an obvious soft-spot for her, which mostly took the form of offering her chocolate and threatening to beat up anyone who looked at her wrong.)

They didn’t love her the same way L loved her, of course. Well… maybe some of them. He had seen the way many of the older boys, and even a few of the girls, looked at her. He wouldn’t be surprised if, for this generation of Wammy’s kids, having Misa as their first crush had become something of a right of passage. But he was pretty certain that Near and Mello didn’t think of her that way; she was more of a big sister to them than anything.

There was just something about Misa, something that drew people to her. She had always been charming in the past, but also frequently insecure and pushy. The past few years had been good for her in that respect. The stability and comfort of her relationship with L, as well as her growing bond with the surrogate family she had found at Wammy’s, had worn away her rough edges, leaving her with a confidence and sense of calm that she had lacked before. It was as though happiness had unfurled something inside of her, granting her an almost surreal magnetism.

It was an unfair advantage, L often thought. Sometimes, Misa would turn to you, and just the act of getting her attention felt like turning on the sun. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and you couldn’t help but respond to that. You couldn’t help wanting to protect her, to make sure that nothing would ever happen to make her stop smiling like that. If L ever broke her heart, he was half certain that the students of Wammy’s would collectively evict him from the building. He knew that, for all their respect for his intelligence, in the hierarchy of the students’ affections, Misa ranked far above himself.

(In fact, just the other day, a pair of preteen girls had cornered him in the courtyard and demanded to know why he hadn’t proposed to Misa yet, and what was taking him so long, and was he stupid or something?

L hadn’t given the matter much thought—not due to a lack of commitment, but rather because Misa was still young, and he didn’t see how signing a piece of paper would change anything. But while she had been surprisingly patient, he did suspect that a proposal was the kind of gesture Misa would enjoy, and since he had never been able to deny her anything, the students might get their wish sooner or later. Though he wondered if they just wanted an opportunity to dress up.)

L was the one who Misa was in love with—sometimes he still wondered how he had managed such a feat—but he wasn’t the only one who loved her, not by a long shot. She had a veritable fanclub among the kids, an entourage of brilliant, socially inept young people who followed her throughout the hallways, competing to see who could win her attention, leaving weird little gifts for her outside their apartment door. None of them quite knew how to show their fondness for her in a normal way, but if Misa had cared about that sort of thing, she never would have fallen for L in the first place. She accepted them as they were, thanked them warmly for all of their clumsy displays of affection. It was clear to L that, no matter how awkward their way of showing it, they just wanted the same thing as him: to have the privilege of being the one to make her smile.

L realized, with a small start, that he must have been staring at her with an embarrassingly fond expression on his face. Near hadn’t noticed, his eyes still fixed on his train set, but of course Misa had. It seemed like she was always tuned into L. She had learned to read him quite well over the years.

Misa Amane looked up at L from her seat on the floor next to Near, meeting his eyes, and he watched the smile spread across her face like the dawning of the sun.

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