A/N: This is hugely influenced by the fact that I was listening to Blaqk Audio as I wrote this, and it was AFI and BA lyrics that actually gave me the incentive to write it. Also, I have a ridiculous amount of love for ambiguous endings and questions half-answered. This is entirely William Faulkner's fault, though I doubt my writing style resembles his. Massive thanks to WhisperToMeSoftly for the beta, I couldn't have done this without you.

Rated T just in case, though I suppose it could be lower? Maybe?

I do hope you enjoy; feedback is much loved.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or its characters. No copyright infringement is intended and I make no profit from my writing. The definition in the summary is from Merriam-Webster online.


She straightened her jacket. It was getting cold, so cold. She needed to get home, she remembered, but didn't move. The evening was chilly, but the river glowed with a thousand lights from the brightly illuminated city. It was breathtaking, the way they danced on the surface of the wrinkled liquid, like enchanted fireflies. Lit up like this, the water looked almost warm, welcoming; although she was aware it was probably cold and contaminated. But right now, it looked somewhat like glittering fabric, a constantly flowing length of silk with bright sequins and shiny beads gleaming as it stirred, silvery threads dancing past, endlessly. Wouldn't it be beautiful, she thought, if such dresses existed?

She sighed, thinking of the things in the world she might never see. The Earth was full of beautiful sights like this, and it was slightly depressing that she could not see them all in one lifetime.

She shivered as a gust of wind harshly reminded her how late it was. Taking one last lingering look at the dancing lights, she crossed the bridge. Light should have been there, he should have seen this. Maybe it wouldn't be so cold with him there to hold her.

He rarely made physical contact with her, but it was all the more precious when he did. He just wasn't the type to show emotions. Maybe. Or maybe he just didn't love – she didn't finish this sentence in her head. She couldn't. He had to love her. He lived with her, after all. He didn't live with everyone who knew too much. Just her. He had to care. He just couldn't show it, right?

She started to walk faster, the bags were heavy and the type of people outside had begun to change to those she would rather not meet. One more street, climb the steps, walk through the alley.


She let herself in quietly. It was dark, but there was an electric glow from the computer screen. He was still working… working to make the world a better place, night and day. It was admirable. He was beautiful and his soul was beautiful; he was giving his all to rid the world of evil… so that everyone could watch the river glitter and shine without fear, so that people would learn how to live.

She put her hand on his shoulder. She didn't want to disturb him, but it was good to see him again…

"Light! I'm sorry I took so long. I got you a new tie, and did a bit of shopping for the weekend, we can have –"

"Okay, yeah, thanks."

Always so absent. Sometimes she wished he was a regular police officer, or anyone really; someone who would be with her there and then. She had to wait till the new world was created. She knew this, but it was difficult – why couldn't he be more attentive to the present moment?

She almost considered asking for a hug, how ridiculous. She was still a little cold and his arms were the warmest place, her haven. She lived for little moments of closeness, for his heartbeat under her palm, for the lips that were soft and forceful all at once, for the barely-there breath on her skin. She would never have wanted a new reality, but it was his dream, and that was all that mattered. It was almost within grasp now. A few more months, maybe… and then they would be together, really together. She would never have to miss him again. She wouldn't have to strain to remember his touch because it would be available to her.


Light turned his head as he felt the weight on his shoulder. He realised she still had her small arms around him. Her head was resting on his shoulder; she was kneeling on the floor next to his chair, eyes closed. Her mouth was half-open but she was breathing evenly. He winced, his arm wasn't liking this. He should wake her up, he thought.

"Misa?"

He heard a quiet mutter. "Light."

She was still asleep, but in her sleep she had made his name sound different. Her barely audible voice had been filled with longing of the most desperate kind, at the same time making the word into something beautiful.

"Misa," he repeated.

"Love?" She muttered, and suddenly a wet drop appeared at the tip of her eyelash and fell to the floor silently. The droplet gleamed in the artificial half-light of the LCD monitor. If he looked hard enough, it was almost like a tiny lightbulb; he was almost expecting to have to adjust his eyes after looking at it.

"Wake up," he tried again, a little impatiently, spinning the chair towards her so that her weight would rest on his chest – God, did his arm hurt.

Another teardrop. Two. Three. Five. They sunk into the fabric of his shirt, slowly and lazily. It felt strangely intimate and it made him uncomfortable. He wanted to shake her awake, but couldn't move. Mesmerised, he watched tears rain on his shirt.

Her breaths came in little gasps now. It seemed that she said his name again, but this time it sounded like a sob.

"Please, you have to," she choked out, awaking unexpectedly with a start. Tears shone on her eyelashes, her eyes were now open and reddened. She looked up at him and this time cried loudly, mouth pressed into his chest.

He had a vague feeling that he should be irritated at such helplessness, but she was too helpless even for him to blame her. He put his hand on her back, waiting for her to calm down. What had her dream been? Did she know something, or was it just a regular nightmare?

"What do I 'have to' do?" He ventured. Her sobs were dissolving into quiet whimpers and she had started to breathe a little more steadily.

"Nothing." Her smile was uncertain, she was still not quite aware of her surroundings.

"Tell me."

For some reason he really wanted to know. Not because she might have known something. He was positive she didn't. He supposed he was just curious.

It took a while before she responded. Gradually, her breathing returned to normal and she reluctantly loosened her grip on his shirt. Getting up slowly, she finally answered.

"Would you mind... going somewhere with me?"


The river was calm, but it still glittered with the shine of street lamps and bright city lights. It had begun to rain and small droplets of water fell through the air with a quiet murmur, into the gleaming waters.

She didn't expect Light to pay attention. She had been surprised when he'd even agreed to go.

But he was there, leaning on the barrier, lost in thought. Tiny raindrops were setting on his skin.

"When you cried… it was just like this, you know?"