Death Notes

The "Perfect" End

Pairing(s): One-sided Misa/Light

Warning for Rape (implied, though not explicit) and Major Character Death (suicide).

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Whenever Misa thought of her future, she always pictured it with Light by her side. Her beautiful Light would never leave her or replace her, for he only loved her. The one thing she had never considered was that Light would be violently ripped away from her, killed like he was nothing more than a feral dog. Misa had never pictured a future where she walked down streets painted in Light's blood, only to arrive home to a permanently empty house. She never imagined she'd feel a shooting pain in her chest and just know Light was dead. In her dreams, Light has been waiting for her, always eager to kiss her and make love to her.

The only time Misa and Light had ever gotten intimate was deeply romantic, at least Misa thought so. She told him that he had a decision to make: be a good husband or she'd tell the Task Force what she knew. She never had definite proof her Light was Kira, but the thought made her love him more. Her noble Light, fighting to kill the criminals so she could live in a better world. Light had just laid there, crying the entire time. He kept telling her no, begging her for something she could never give him. She needed him, and she would always need him. Misa did all the movements while Light stared off into the distance, trying to imagine that he was anywhere but where he was. If Misa hadn't been so focused on her fantasy, she would have heard Light repeatedly muttering L's name, begging L to save him.

After that, Light rarely let himself be alone with her. He worked longer hours, spending more time away from their home. He spent time with that news reporter, although he seemed deeply uncomfortable around her too. He came home for a few minutes, just long enough to say he saw her. But even with Light only being home a few minutes a week, Misa had never pictured a world where Light never stopped by for a couple minutes.

Light would never open the door again, looking slightly scared to see Misa in lingerie. She would never iron his turtleneck sweaters and shirts for him again, simply because he would never wear them again. He would never give her a look from the corner of his eyes, one that Misa took for affection and love. Misa would never smell Light's cologne after he left again. Light was gone.

Misa hated to think about his cold body bleeding out in the streets, waiting to be found. She hated the image of his body being carelessly tossed around, touched by people unworthy of even looking at Light. His body would eventually be lowered into the ground, where the worms would slither into the crevices of his body and make a home. Light would be recycled back into the Earth that never really cared about him, a disgrace against Light. Light was a god, not another human. He should be preserved, not tossed into the ground like a common criminal. Even L, the pathetic detective that Light always talked about for hours on end, had been embalmed and buried in a fancy casket.

Misa would always regret not calling Light and demanding that he talked to her. Maybe if he would have known she was pregnant, he would have been more careful. Light wouldn't have messed up if he knew he had a beautiful girlfriend and a slowly developing baby waiting at home for him. Unlike that annoying reporter, Misa had been able to give Light the one thing he thought he'd never have— a family.

Misa opened the door of their house, knowing it would be the last time she ever stepped foot in it. She stepped outside. She closed the door behind her, not bothering to lock it. It wouldn't matter if someone broke into their house. Soon, the house would be abandoned, sold after Light's remaining family went through his will. Light's mother might appreciate having the door unlocked. It'd be the only thing Light left unlocked for her, even if Misa was the one to leave the door unlocked.

Her new heels clicked on the pavement, although no one was around to hear them. If anyone had seen her, they would have assumed she was on the way to join her lover for a fancy dinner. In a sense, they would be right: she was on the way to join a lover. She just wouldn't join her lover for dinner. Instead, she'd join him in the afterlife, where they could be together until the end of everything. She crossed the streets, not truly bothering to check for traffic. If a car took her out, Misa wouldn't have argued. What difference did it make to her? The dead never complain.

L was never able to complain about the fact that he died. If people had listened to him, L would still be alive, eating sugar cubes by the handful. L had never been able to argue that he had died too early, while he was still young and figuring out the world. He had never been able to say, "I told you so." The dead couldn't speak, and L was proof of that fact.

She pulled out her wallet at the train station, buying a single ticket. She nodded politely at the girl behind the window before heading off to her train compartment. The empty compartment felt fitting for Misa's situation. There was no one in the world for Misa to turn to. She was, for the second time in her life, all alone. She felt the train jolt to life, and she sunk into her seat, trying to relax.

Light will be back to her soon. She'll wrap her arms around him and tell him about the little one growing inside her. Light will be such a good dad. In their new life, Light will love only Misa. There will be no more mentions of that wide-eyed detective with dark hair or that horrible reporter. There will be Light, Misa, and their little one. In the new future Misa has concocted, there won't be room for anyone else.

The bright sky slowly turned into a dark orange, each passing minute leading the world closer to a new day— a day without Kira. Misa watched as the orange color continued to deepen, smiling slightly at the scenery. All of the trees and houses illuminated by the orange glow seemed beautiful, and Misa suddenly wished things would have played out differently. Light and her could have bought a home with a nice view of the sunset. Their child could have ran around in the backyard, having the time of his— Misa just knew this baby was a boy— life. Their life could be like out of a magazine or romance show.

Misa got off the train at her stop, determinedly making her way to the tallest water tower. If anyone had seen her as she began to climb the ladder of the water tower, they would have sworn she was a ghost. In a sense, they were right: they were looking at a dead girl making her final moves. Her heels tripped her up as she climbed towards the heavens, but she didn't falter. She had come to this water tower with a purpose, and nothing could have stopped her. Without Light, she was nothing. Without Light, Misa was a shattered, heartbroken mess with no one to put her back together.

Every stumble led her closer to the top. Each step led her closer to seeing Light again. She prayed that Light's spirit would catch hers when her body hit the ground. Their spirits could intertwine as they ascended towards the heavens.

Misa took in her final sunset. The orange sky seemed endless, the houses below her seemingly tinier. Life continued on, children screamed while dogs barked. Cars drove by, honking at each other. Trees danced in the wind, their leaves twirling about freely. In Japan, it was an ordinary night.

Misa took a deep breath before throwing herself off the side of the water tower.

'The human who uses the notebook can neither go to Heaven nor Hell.'

Before Misa even had the chance to wonder what that cursed rule meant, her body hit the ground. She only felt the sudden snap of her neck before her world went dark.

And her world permanently stayed dark and empty.