A/N: This is a fic I wrote in honor of Father's Day
A/N: This is a fic I wrote in honor of Father's Day. I decided to give Near a daughter, one not necessarily of his own. She was someone special's daughter. :D Although… I haven't quite figured out who her mother is…
Anyway, I wrote this story on a whim, so it may sound a bit unpolished. I do hope you enjoy reading though. :D Reviews are appreciated. 3
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. D:
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"Daddy, Daddy," she says. "Why is my hair yellow?"
"Because you're special, baby. You're very special."
She smiles her adorable little smile. He smiles back, then ruffles her blonde, blonde hair some more.
"Are you special too, Daddy?"
"Why do you say that?"
"Because Daddy has white hair."
Daddy smiles, but there is more to his smile now. Perhaps it was sadness, loneliness... or sorrow. Sorrow the child's wide, wide cerulean eyes could certainly not comprehend at the tender age of four. So she smiles back, and touches her daddy's face with her tubby hands.
"I think my Daddy is special."
Daddy can't help but break into a smile, but this time, his smile looks distant. "Yes. Your daddy was special."
She doesn't know her real daddy is already dead.
--
"Daddy, Daddy, why are you sad?"
"Nothing, darling, it's nothing. Daddy was just remembering his friend."
She frowns, then snuggles closer into his chest. She looks up, her innocent orbs staring worriedly at Daddy's face. "What happened to your friend, Daddy? What happened?"
Daddy holds her closer and says, "Daddy's friend is gone."
"Gone, Daddy? He's gone? Is he ever coming back?"
"No, darling. No... Daddy's friend isn't coming back."
"Oh," She buries her face in his chest in an effort to make him feel better. "Does Daddy miss his friend?"
"...Yes. Daddy... misses him very much."
She doesn't know her real daddy was celebrating his birthday that day.
--
"Daddy, Daddy," she says. "Who are these people?"
She points to a picture sitting on the library table. Daddy smiles a bit, then takes the picture in his hands.
"These are Daddy's friends, sweetie."
"Daddy's friends? Were they good friends?"
"Yes. They were... very good friends..." Daddy trails off and looks outside the window. She follows his gaze and stares at the starless sky above.
"...Where are Daddy's friends now?"
"They're in a better place."
"A better place?" her eyes twinkle in curiosity. Daddy lets out a small laugh and replies, "Yes. A better place."
"Why didn't you go with them, Daddy?"
Daddy laughs some more, then touches her nose with his finger. "Because if I did, I wouldn't have you." She laughs her tinkling, musical little laugh. Daddy smiles, then stares out the window again. "But maybe-- if Daddy wasn't so... wasn't so weak, they would still be here."
The little girl blinked, her young, four-year-old mind once again not understanding what her daddy meant. "What do you mean, Daddy? What do you mean?"
"Nothing, darling," Daddy says. "Now go to sleep."
So she cuddles with her daddy and drifts off to sleep, as obedient as any good little girl should be. She falls asleep in less than five minutes, then as Daddy carries her off to her room, she opens a half-lidded eye and smiles.
"Good night, Daddy."
"Good night, sweetie."
He tucks the small child into her bed as she yawns. His hands brush upon a small plaque reading his daughter's name-- Michelle River, and he smiles. He remembers when her father pleaded (not that HE would ever admit to that) him to take care of the child, hissing venomously that he would send the other "straight into hell" if he didn't. He accepted, and days later, decided to call the girl Michelle. (Halle had suggested Natasha, but he felt obliged to give her a name that started with "M")
But now, as Nate River sat beside his sleeping daughter's body, he brushes those thoughts aside. Gently, he smoothes his daughter's blonde, blonde hair one more time before kissing the lids that covered her blue, blue eyes.
She doesn't know she's the exact image of her real daddy.
