Lie
The first thing he notices is that her hair is fake; fake; fake. Bright platinum blonde that seems to call out, "Look at me, look at me, please." But it's almost begging.
"Hello! I love you all!" She cries to all her fans, a radiant smile upon her face that makes her seem perfect. Fragile, yet unbreakable. Confident.
But he isn't stupid. He knows, he knows.
The magazines sold in all the stores show a pleasant young girl, with respect and self esteem. The magazines show Misa-Misa.
The magazines are such liars.
Who would have thought that such a pretty, cute little girl could secretly been in love with a criminal? With Kira, one of the most feared in Japan? With a murderer?
No one would. And that's why she's so perfect.
So as she's strapped to the chair that looks like a torture device and L stares at her through his computer screen, L isn't fooled.
Not by her hair, or her confidence, or her perfection. L can see past all that.
He can see past her acts.
But that doesn't mean he won't sympathize.
Because, after all, she's just a little girl. A model, an actress, a little girl.
And he isn't surprised at all when he lets her go.
A/N: This is my first story in a very long time, and I kind of think it sucked. So be nice, please. Have mercy on Iama's poor soul.