Chapter Text
Misa's old room was a fraction of a size of her apartment suite, but none of it was empty. She traced her old footsteps, stepping over a plushy and blanket she'd thrown off the bed only a moment ago, and let the cold tiles gradually break her shock. In the kitchen, the window was left partly open and she could hear the traffic, loud voices—early morning commuters—birds chirping, and there were no stars in the sky.
When she was able to pull herself away from the view of the sky, Rem was waiting. Hovering beside her bedroom door, face a distant thing of the past, Misa did one thing she had dreamt of for years.
She ran towards her old friend and hugged her with all her might.
"Misa! Is everything alright?" Rem asked, once she'd managed to finally pry Misa away from herself.
"Everything is perfect! I just had a bad dream." Misa smiled widely and went to open her fridge. She had little food in, other than a prepared salad. "How are you, Rem?"
Softening at her concern, Rem answered, "Fine. Nothing happened while you slept. Misa, I wanted to continue our talk from yesterday if we could."
Misa sat down on her sofa. She nodded encouragingly. "Of course, Rem, you can talk about anything to me."
Momentarily surprised, Rem paused before she continued. "I didn't expect you to be open to talking about it. Yesterday, you were so closed off. You have been… struggling, lately, I know. You are good at faking a smile. But you deserve a better life than this. Gelus would want you to live a better life than this. I don't wish for that… man to ruin everything for you."
That man?
"It is up to you what life you live. I will support you as best as I can."
Misa felt the tears fall from her eyes. She couldn't stop them and nor could she stop Rem's apologies, but her friend's care was a balm to the ache so deep inside her she never thought it could ever stop, not even for a moment.
"Thank you so much, Rem," Misa said, wiping her eyes. "I owe you so much. You're right. You were right about everything. I think I need a fresh start."
"Alright. Where would you like to go?"
Misa packed her things, helped by Rem floating and folding her clothes, with the Death Note tucked away safe in her bag.
"I think I need to go to Tokyo. I think maybe there's another way," she said, zipping up her suitcase. "Will you come with me?"
"Of course, Misa."
"We may need to act a little bit," she said, smiling.
She'd gotten very good at acting.
She didn't look at the calendar, the TV, or any newspaper. She didn't want to know. Whether this was real or it was death, Rem was with her so nothing else mattered. She wasn't afraid.
They arrived at Tokyo Station, Misa dressed in a wig and sunglasses as a disguise, just in time to see a broadcast. The letter L, curved like it was born from an old tome in the colour of an ink blot on a scroll, erupted like a supernova across the Kanto region. As before, Lind L. Taylor dropped dead of a heart attack.
It was December 5, 2003.
She had Rem.
She had a Death Note.
She didn't have the Shinigami Eyes.
She was in Tokyo.
Kira hadn't yet killed her parent's murder.
She was alive, her hair was in perfect condition, and she could walk without every step hurting.
"Where are we going, Misa?" Rem asked.
"We're going to get a hotel room and rest for the night. Then, I'm going to the police station tomorrow."
If she had arrived weeks or even just days before, she would have taken more time. But things moved so quickly after that broadcast, she couldn't miss that small window of opportunity she had created.
It couldn't have all been for nothing.
"Misa, you can't. They'll think your Kira!"
"Please, Rem. I have a plan. Please trust me."
The Shinigami softened, but worried still through the hours of the evening, until Misa asked if Rem could write the rules exactly as Misa remembered them into the notebook in Ryuk's handwriting.
"…Misa." Rem said, her pen held aloft mid air before the open notebook. "How do you know that name?"
Misa explained. She would have no more secrets with Rem, the only one who had ever looked out for Misa first.
Then, the Shinigami turned to panic through the hours of the night and early morning until finally she settled into a unsettling state of calm, like the sea before a calamity.
She was ready to leave her hotel room the minute she got the call she had been expecting since last night.
Misa walked into the police station, still dressed in her disguise, with the Death Note in her bag. It had one name written in.
Rem said she'd stay hidden, but would watch the station just in case. With that, Misa felt safe enough to walk through the front door.
The receptionist, a woman in her early 50s, greeted her at the front desk, and asked how she could help. The clock on the left wall said it was 1 pm.
The woman had the beginnings of crows feet, a thinning hair line, and a beautiful wedding ring.
Would the woman out live her children?
What was her name?
The only red she saw was the woman's red cardigan, with two small pinpricks very few would notice them—where a name badge had been recently. Her wig was started to itch. The police station's front desk was quiet, for the most part, but she could see movement behind the door panes and the voices only grew louder the only she stood there.
"Ma'am, is everything alright?" the receptionist asked, peering at her sunglasses.
"Yes, sorry," she said, ringing her hands in a style of practised nerves. "The thing is, I think I might be a witness to, um, an ongoing investigation? I really didn't know what else to do other than come here."
"I understand. You've done well to come this way, dear. Everything will be alright. If you could just give me your name, I'll send an officer over and we'll get all of this sorted, alright?"
"I'll have to speak to an officer, right? Give a statement? I've never done anything like this before…"
"Yes. How it works is, we take your witness statement and put it on file for the investigation. Whatever information you could give could be very helpful. It could be the thing we need to bring it to an end," the woman said, smiling at her. "I know it can be scary."
"A-alright," Misa took a deep breath. "I'm not sure about giving my name. I'm… I don't want anyone to know I'm involved. And it's dangerous."
"Well, if need be we can put you under witness protection—"
"It's a murder case," she said. "The murder case."
The ceiling fan turned in slow motion.
"And you don't want to give your name," the receptionist whispered.
Misa shook her head and bit her lip. She took off her sunglasses and hoped this stranger, if there was any kindness left in the world, would hear her out. "Please. After what happened… I… I need to be careful."
The receptionist stood up from her seat so fast, the chair rolled backwards into a filing cabinet and almost knocked a plant pot onto the floor. They both watched the plant pot wobble, but neither moved.
"Come with me," the woman said, hurrying to let her further into the police station. Misa put her sunglasses back on.
Misa caught a glimpse of the police station, which looked similar in essence to the one she'd seen in London, though the scent of tea was missing and replaced with a more bitter tang of coffee.
An officer, one she did not recognise, waved to the woman. The receptionist nodded, but continued on. Misa kept her head down.
"Here's a private room," the receptionist said, guiding her down a corridor to the left into a small and plain room. She shut the door behind them.
Misa took a seat on one of the old office chairs, trying to make herself comfortable, and placed her bag on her lap. She clung to the handles with white knuckles. She placed the sunglasses on the circular table. There was nothing else on it and little else noticeable in the room. Or maybe she was tunnel visioning.
"I'll fetch an officer—"
Misa gently touched the woman's wrist. "It's the Kira case. Please get the police chief. I won't feel safe with anyone else."
The receptionist grasped her hand. "I will. It'll be alright. You're so young. Goodness. Oh, here, help yourself to a cup of water. I won't be long."
Misa filled the plastic cup with the water dispenser less than half way full, because she didn't trust her shaking hands with any more than that. Then, she returned to her seat and bounced her leg exactly 165 times staring at the vent above the door before she heard a knock.
"Hello?"
"Excuse me for the caution, Miss. But you seem to understand why we need to be careful these days," a distorted voice said. "My name is L. I am the lead investigator of the Kira case."
"I understand. I saw the broadcast on December 5th. I recognise your voice Or, um, your voice changer I guess."
She couldn't quite tell if the sound of his voice was coming from the window or the vent above.
"Hm. Then you understand why I cannot let you see the face of the police chief? His name is, of course, already known and his face previously printed in newspapers. But, until we know how Kira's powers work for certain, I cannot allow it. I apologise, as if you are somehow a witness to this case, I can understand why you would want the assurance of speaking to someone with authority."
"I didn't think they'd let me speak to you, to be honest," she said, truthfully. "I didn't think anyone would believe me."
"It is… an unusual circumstance. We've certainly had no callers so far to provide further information. We haven't asked for any, considering Kira's method of killing."
"Is there a camera in here? Can you see me?" she asked.
"…I can. Does this bother you?"
"Is it just you? Any other officers?"
"Would it make you feel more comfortable if it was only me?" he asked, any emotion or sincerity disguised by the distortion. "You will fully co-operate with all my questions and the investigation if I do so?"
"Yes, please."
A moment passed.
"Very well. We are alone."
"Thank you." Misa removed her wig, letting her hair free and placed it in her bag. "My name is Misa Amane. My idol name is Misa Misa. If this is connected to the Kira case, and I'm really hoping it isn't, I don't want my name connected to it at all."
"I see. It could damage your career. Your disguise was smart. Miss Amane, can I ask how long you've been in the Kanto region? To my understanding, you were filming a commercial in Kaito just a few days ago."
Misa felt herself blush. Had L actually been telling the truth when he said he'd been a fan? Even if it had been a lie, she'd still been happy at the time. Even a lie to make someone happy can be nice to hear, sometimes.
Misa became good at those types of lies too, at the end. She knew what to say to make Light happy. And he knew what to say back, until they were both nothing more than talking dolls.
"I… I was. But. You see. About a year ago, my parents were murdered. I've been… Struggling a lot. A couple of months ago, I found a notebook on the floor. I kept it in my room and thought nothing of it, until I found out the man who had k-killed my parents had been acquitted. I got drunk and wrote something in the notebook. Then, I buried myself in work and I didn't think of the notebook again."
"I am sorry to hear that, Miss Amane."
"I thought Tokyo could be a new start for me. So, on the 5th of December I arrived at Tokyo Station. I saw your broadcast. And… You said that Kira needs a face and a name to kill, right?"
"That is indeed my deduction, yes."
She took the notebook out of her bag.
"…Forgive me, Miss Amane, but I'm uncertain what a notebook's relevance is to the Kira case."
Misa's hands were shaking so much she had to drop the notebook on the table. "All those weeks ago, I wrote the name of my parents murderer in the notebook when I was drunk. I… I wrote today he would die because it's my parents anniversary. He'd go to their graves at 9 am and leave an apology letter for all the hurt he'd cause, then drop to his knees from a heart attack."
"Miss Amane—"
She clung to the handles of her bag so tightly she thought she'd tear it apart. "I got a call from the cemetery an hour ago. You can check my phone. You can search my hotel room. My flat. Anything. Please."
"Which cemetery was this?"
She told him.
"My colleagues are currently checking this information. I apologise for the wait."
She filled up her glass of water and downed it. Her throat felt dry still afterwards.
"…Miss, the man indeed dropped dead of a heart attack in front of your parents graves," he confirmed. "However, the thing that confuses me is the further instructions you gave to him. None of Kira's victims so far have done something so complicated before their time of death, that we know."
She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I know. I don't understand it myself. I didn't expect this to happen. Please, I…" She started to cry, letting the tears ruin her mascara. "Misa doesn't want to go to jail."
"As a key witness to this case, I'm putting you under witness protection from this point on. As long as you continue to co-operate, I see no reason why you would need to go to prison. Now, is there anything else I should know?"
"Oh, God, I don't know where to start. Its called a Death Note. There's, um, rules on how you can use it. Instructions inside." She sniffed. "And I don't. I don't know. I didn't think! I didn't want this to be real."
"Watari," L said.
And the door opened. Through it came a familiar face, though she never expected to see it move again. The old man smiled at her, in that grandfatherly like way, that only made her remember how still his face had been in his coffin at the viewing. Her tears poured out, falling onto her lap and tense hands.
"Excuse me, Miss. I'll take this notebook, if that's alright?"
She nodded, sniffing once again. He took the notebook, then handed her a white handkerchief. She reached out and, briefly, her finger brushed against his as she took the handkerchief. It was the first time, ever, that'd she'd touched him. He was warm. Alive. Somehow, impossibly so.
She sat their in shock, for a little while, until Watari came once more to take her away.
They left her in a different hotel suite, her things already collected and left in the bedroom. She checked for microphones and cameras and didn't find any. Maybe L thought keeping a watch on the hotel in general was enough?
She lay in a double sized bed, curled up on one side and did not sleep. By midnight, Rem had found her and they sat in the bedroom together, listening to the clock tick and watching Tokyo from the window. Eventually, she moved one of the chairs to the window so she could watch more easily.
There were no stars in the sky, only the occasional helicopter below the clouds. There was people and laughter and night life and danger and joy lit in neon signs.
It wasn't perfect.
Misa wasn't either.
Three days later, which seemed so little and like a lifetime all at once, Watari returned to her new hotel suite holding a laptop in a suitcase. L, with his distorted voice, informed her that the remaining police officers would be arriving shortly as would L in person.
"This will be the remaining Task Force," he explained.
"Why only work with them?" she asked.
"Kira has access to police information. Before you panic, your name was not included on any records. No information about you was, actually, since it was a private meeting between you and I."
She relaxed in her seat, not even realising how tense she'd become. "Thank you."
"No need to thank me, Miss Amane. You've been most helpful. And I hope you can continue to be so."
She swallowed a bitter laugh. "I'm good at being helpful."
No matter what, then, this was her fate. To be of help to someone else, never herself, and always second fiddle to someone smarter and colder. She made herself a cup of tea. She missed Yumi's cooking. Rem flew up through the ceiling, out of sight, as the task force began to enter.
Light's father looked tired, his shirt was practically unironed (Light's mother was much better at that sort of thing and the man had clearly done it in a rush) but he had fewer grey hairs and a spark in his eye.
Matsuda looked happy.
She stayed standing still and waited, giving her phone away when she was told, but said nothing and only giving a polite nod to the clearly curious men.
When she saw L again, Misa had to sit down. It was like seeing a ghost. She heard nothing of the conversation between him and the Task Force. She could only stare at the way he sat, how shockingly familiar and how nostalgic it was, and yes he still drank tea in the same way. She had memorised the movements of his eyebrows, back then, fascinated by how much emotion was expressed through the slightest of movements. She'd copied it for her brief but enjoyable acting career and received nothing but compliments.
"Miss Amane, I've shared what you told me about the notebook with these members of the Task Force," L stated, watching her with a thumb in his mouth.
"Alright. So, um, you all think this could be what Kira is using to… to kill people?" she asked.
"Hm. There's a possibility he is using a similar notebook, a copy of sorts with the same exact rules, or Kira's Death Note is a notebook but of a different kind, or that this is a shocking coincidence and he is committing murder in a different way altogether. It's unconfirmed as of yet if Kira can have as much control over his victims as the user of this Death Note can," L explained. "However, it is safer to operate under the assumption that he can. Hence, my new rules to hide our names, faces, and to send regular updates of our status to the team. If any timed update is missed, or the update is out of the ordinary, we will presume that person is under the Death Note's control and adjust accordingly. Luckily, Miss Amane, your true name isn't widely known. If you are more comfortable with it, we can still refer to you as Misa."
She nodded.
"Um," Matsuda began, raising his hand like a schoolboy. "What now, then? How do we stop Kira from using the Death Note? How do we find him?"
L grinned. "I've already deduced he is located in the Kanto region of Japan. Furthermore, he is a student with access to police information. That narrows down our search significantly."
"As a witness," Light's father said, his voice stern, "Should Miss Misa be involved? This is dangerous for her."
She swallowed. "Thank you. For worrying about me. But, please, I understand what that notebook can do. In the hands of the wrong person, it could do horrible things."
"It could shape this world like clay, solidify it, then shatter it like ceramics," L said, his thumb running thoughtfully over his lip. "As far as mass murder weapons go, this notebook is the deadliest weapon in human history."
"I think love might be," Misa said, the words leaving her lips before she could drag them back.
L raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Why do you think that?"
"I loved my parents so much that in a moment of drunk rage, if I thought I could kill for them I thought I should do it. Kira loves this world so much he wants it to be perfect, like a father pushing their son to be a grade A student in everything, and shunning him when he isn't the ideal he wants to see. That kind of love… It feels empty. You'd burn the world just to feel warm again."
"There's an old proverb—The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth," L said, lifting his teacup to his lips. "Have you ever felt that way, Miss Misa?"
She paused. "I think… I think I feel warm right now. I feel safe here. For now. And I'll know you'll keep the Death Note away from me."
"…You're scared of it," he stated, genuinely surprised. The intrigue on his face was clear as the sunrise, and just as blinding, as when had L ever shown such curiosity towards her?
Maybe he had. Maybe she didn't remember. It had been 10 years. She didn't remember the way his hair fell, or how he stuffed his hands in his jean pockets, or the exact slump of his wide shoulders. There were plenty of things her memory had faded over time, but she still remembered what everyone had said at his funeral.
She hadn't said anything.
"Now you're here in person, with everyone," she said, looking around at them all and gathering courage. "There's something else I need to tell you. Like I said before, I didn't know if you'd believe me about the notebook. I didn't quite believe it myself. It seemed crazy."
Matsuda gave her an encouraging smile. "But you came to the police anyway. That's really brave, Miss Misa."
Her heart panged. She clutched her hands together in a mockery of prayer. "The rules written on the notebook aren't the only rules it has. There's so much more."
"Interesting. And you know this how…?" L asked.
"Rem told me."
Watari shifted, eyeing L with caution, but the detective only leaned forward with a manic grin on his face.
"Who is Rem, Misa? They're not Kira, or you would have specified, you've been careful in your word choice so far… A friend? Another Death Note user?" he asked, each question completed with a tap of his thumb on his lip. It was a much softer sound, barely audible, compared to Light's habit of taping on the desk.
"I am a Death Note holder, as is Kira," she explained. "But we are not the owners. The notebooks come from the realm of the Shinigami."
Light's father closed his eyes, then rubbed his temple. Matsuda, also clearly in doubt, still nodded at her to let her continue. Mogi, ever serious, reacted in no obvious way. But it was L she paid the most attention to, who had only raised one eyebrow in response to all she said.
"I can prove it," she told him. "Have you all touched the notebook?"
They now all looked way. She'd take that as a yes.
"Please don't freak out. Rem! Can you come back down, please? They'd like to meet you."
Rem phased through the floor, her wings expanding as she floated downwards to float an inch above the hotel floor. Matsuda dropped his luke-warm tea into his lap. Chief Yagami screamed and jumped out of his chair. Aizawa leaned back so far he fell of his chair. Watari drew his gun, while Mogi stepped back, and Ukita hid behind Watari.
L's eyes widened so far she feared they'd pop out of their sockets.
"You may call me Rem," the Shinigami said, continuing with the story they'd planned. "What Misa has told you is true. The Death Notes are from our world. I dropped one of mine into this world by accident and came to retrieve it, but Misa had already found it and written a name in it. So, I decided to stay and watch over her for the trouble I had caused. Misa, for a time, assumed I was nothing more than her imagination."
"I can see why," L said, his voice slow.
"Yes, well. Once I saw the Kira murders, I thought it could be a rash Shinigami," Rem said, and went on to explain how her species used Death Notes for their life span. "It seemed strange, but I didn't understand it in full until the broadcast which I saw with Misa. From there, I felt awful she had been involved. I told her to give me the notebook back, which would erase my memories, and I would return to my world."
Misa shook her head. "Rem was the only friend I had, strange as it seems, and I… I thought it there was any chance it was real, then I had to bring it to you."
"Then…" L said, thinking out loud. "You're telling me Kira is human, my deductions are likely still correct, but he also has a Shinigami at his side?"
"Possibly," Rem answered. "It's possible the Shinigami is watching from afar in our world, which would explain why Kira lacks knowledge of all the Death Note rules."
"Or he simply decided to avoid them, using the Death Note to cause heart attacks would be the fastest way to write names, and is a memorable method that works for his motives," L muttered. "Hm. Or, the Shinigami in question could be watching closer, but uninvolved."
"Also possible. Shinigami do not have a strong sense of morality. We kill to expand our own life span. There is no other reason."
"I see. Then, will the Shinigami interfere if we catch Kira?"
Rem paused for a long moment.
Misa answered for her, "Killing for a reason means the Shinigami who writes the name dies. It's one of the rules not written here."
L's eyes widened once more.
"That being said," Rem said, looking at each of them one by one. "Misa is very dear to me. Should you endanger her, I will not hesitate to destroy you."
Matsuda gulped. To clear the air, Misa clapped her hands together and thanked Rem for all her help.
"Yes," L agreed, eyeing the Shinigami carefully. "This certainly changes things. I have to thank you, Miss Misa. With this, we may be able to set a trap and corner Kira."
"What do you mean?" the Chief asked, still eyeing Rem warily.
That night, the task force stayed in the hotel suite. L had a desk and computer screens set up. Apparently, they were monitoring some of the key suspects. She didn't dare look at any of the screens, because she knew what one of them would show, and couldn't look at his face again without crying.
She made herself busy by brewing tea and coffee for the task force, helping Matsuda organise a file on the suspect's family's (she hurriedly placed Sayu's file to the side and bit the inside of her lip so hard she tasted blood), and chatting away in soft tones to anyone who'd listen to her.
She learned Aizawa's wife was amazing at investing and handled the family finances.
She learned Mogi didn't like sugar in his coffee.
Watari ate carefully to avoid getting crumbs in his moustache, which she realised he was vain about.
She remembered L worked strangely well with others sometimes because, like Near, he didn't seek to be liked. He only cared about the case. And, in these circumstances when the task force had more clues than they'd ever thought possible fall practically into their lap, their motivation carried them through for hours until Matsuda collapsed face first into his pile of files.
She covered Matsuda with a blanket. The others agreed it was time for a break, though Chief Yagami shook his head fondly at the sleeping younger officer he didn't argue against the break.
L, however, remained seated at his computer.
"Miss Misa, can you come here please?" the detective asked.
She walked woodenly towards the screen, watching him instead.
"Can Death Note users see Shinigami of other users?"
She shrugged, but understood what he was really asking. She searched the screens, looking for something. She found Light, his younger self taking snacks from a bag while sitting a desk in his room. He wrote notes while studying.
"I don't see a Shinigami," she answered, but kept her eyes on Light's screen. "Who studies like that?"
"Excuse me?" he asked, oddly amused.
"If I wanted a snack when studying, I'd just take a break. Snacking and studying? Who has the brain power?" she huffed, and crossed her arms chidishly. "Seems silly to me."
"Hm, I don't know. Miss Misa has proven herself to be rather cunning. I'm sure you could snack and study at the same time, should you put your mind to it."
Though he was partly making fun of her, Misa couldn't help but smile at the strange compliment. "Does that mean you think Misa is clever? No one's ever said that about me before!"
Watari shot her a glance she briefly read as pity, before she decided not to think about it anymore.
"Well, Miss Misa, intelligence comes in many forms and types," L said, licking his dessert spoon. "But most don't expect intelligence to be packaged in beauty. Sadly, people will forever underestimate you and never spare a thought for your brain. I must admit, it's a sharp contrast to my own life, in an almost parallel sort of way."
"People only see you for your brain, you mean?" she said, pulling back a little to think. "I guess so. How strange. The great L can relate to me."
"You're correct that Light Yagami's method of writing is strange. It's difficult to tell from this angle what he is writing and if he is—then does he know we're watching, has he assumed we're tailing him, is this a show put on to trick us, is it writing names down in front of our eyes to mock us? Without access to his notebook, we're left wondering."
Misa asked if he wanted another slice of cake.
L ate two more slices cake, and Misa even had a small slice herself and another cup of tea with it, before Light closed his notebook and placed it carefully in his desk. He went to sleep in single bed, with no room for anyone else.
L bit into his thumb. While he settled in to think, she settled to remember. The boy on the screen she'd once worshipped as God. She'd followed him 'til her feet bled and her hair started to fall out and her bones ached. And, still, no matter how much blood she poured onto her hands he'd never hold them.
"You really think it's him, don't you?" Misa asked, mostly to herself.
"I am open to the possibility," he said, quietly even though the police chief was in a different room in the suite and out of ear shot. "The moment I deduced it was a student from the Kanto region with a connection to the police, someone with great intelligence but low moral maturity—a black and white perspective—Light Yagami quickly rose to the top of the list. All details you've provided had so far increased the chance of Light Yagami being Kira by 10%."
"Are you going to get a search warrant for his house?"
"I could, but if he has access to police information as we think it would give him too much time to act and hide the evidence… Further and more detailed investigation is required." He spun around in his chair, facing Watari. "What time is it in America? Put me on the phone to the FBI."