Authors Note: I have been working on this story for a while, during math class, but just decided to post it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note… Nope…
Misa Point of View
"Misa Misa is excited!" I exclaimed, attempting to mask my true negative feelings with ditzy anticipation.
"Me too. I can't wait to see all the hot guys there!"
"I know! I just ran through the last of the boy toys." The boy toys were a group of boys in Takada and my eighth grade class. Seeing as we were the most popular girls in our middle school, we'd made a pact to date and ditch all of them. They were all well off, attractive, and athletic.
"Indeed. We need some new playmates for high school."
"Pick them tomorrow?"
"Of course!"
"Well, I have to go, my mom is calling me."
"Bye."
"Bye!" I didn't particularly like Takada, nor did I like lying to her about my mom. I remembered when I first met her. It'd been in sixth grade, and I'd been doing as I always did: flirting with boys. Takada was new, pretty, and a novelty. So I decided having a partner in heartbreaking would benefit me. In sixth grade Takada had been bookish, smart and nice. Now she was catty, and always trying to be better than me. We'd once been real friends, but now we were frenemies, each trying to be prettier, better dressed, and more popular than the other. One thing we'd settled, though, was that I was talented, and Takada was smart. All of her life, she'd gotten straight A+'s, where as I got B's and C's, and maybe an A- if I was lucky. However, Takada hadn't a talented bone in her body, excluding her public speaking skills. Like wise, I could (and would) sing any song, do any dance and sell any garment, leaving people captivated all the while. I lived for being on stage, there was nothing like being adored, being clapped for, and being cheered on.
This was how I knew, that in the end, I would win. Takada would only ever be smart, and I was talented. I could draw people in, and make them pay attention to me.
There was a time when I almost told Takada the truth. We'd been at Kasey Huntington's slumber party, near the end of sixth grade. We'd been playing truth or dare. I'd chosen truth, and had been asked to reveal one thing no one knew about me. I said it was that I had a crush on the seventh grader Brad Summers. Takada later, after every one else was asleep, called my bluff, knowing who my true crush was. I was about to tell her that my parents were murdered, and that I lived in a foster family, when she made some sort of a crack on my taste in guys. I lied, saying I also liked Brad, but hadn't told her, even, because I was embarrassed. So I kept the truth about my parents a secret. A secret I would take to my grave.
I finally started looking for an outfit. I did this for a half hour or so, and finally settled on a black micro mini skirt, fishnets, and a black ruffled halter top. I would, of course be styling my hair in the typical Misa Misa way. I stripped off my clothes, pealing off the layers and throwing them to the ground. I then put on my favorite sexy pajamas. I was a red tank top, with black lace around the bust, and in the place of straps. It had matching booty shorts with lace around the legs and instead of a waist band. It made me feel sexy and girly, and the first step to looking attractive, was feeling attractive. I curled up into bed, hugging my knees to my chest. I created a shield with my mind , and promised myself that no one could hurt me any more. Takada couldn't, my foster parents couldn't, and I wouldn't. I would from this point on be impervious.
I jumped out of bed with a start, almost knocking my chococat alarm clock from its place on my bedside table. I ran into my bath room, and found that my skimpy pajamas were drenched in drenched in sweat. Probably due to the nightmares that had plagued me since I walked out of my room to see my parents slaughtered and bleeding on the hall way floor.
I turned on the hot water and stepped into the shower. Steam filled the room, and hot water pounded onto my back relieving my stress, and washing away the fear from the night before. I lathered the strawberry scented shampoo, and scrubbed my scalp. I didn't want dirty, greasy hair on my first day. This was my first impression with these people, and the one they would always remember. I then rinsed the foamy substance away. After I was done with that, I scrubbed the sweat from my limbs and torso. My shower gel was also strawberry scented. Looking down at myself, I realized I beat Takada on yet another front: boobs. I had larger boobs than Takada ever would. She was an average 34 B, when I was a 34 D. I laughed at my fortune. I was a prettier girl to be sure.
When I was done, I blew out my hair, brushing it and putting some of it up in little pigtails, but leaving the rest down. I put on my customary red lip stick, pink lacy underwear set, and eventually my clothes. Today was going to be a great day.
L point of view
I didn't see why I needed to go to school. After all, I was a certifiable genius. Now after nine years of misery, I was going into the real hell. High school. My life had been miserable enough in middle school, with all of the being picked on, but this was going to be 10 times worse. This was high school, where brains don't matter, and friends are made by showing off your arm size, getting laid and wearing Hollister. I didn't do any of those. Not that I'd mind the second…
I'd always been smart. When I was younger I was given the option to skip around seven grades, but the foster parents who ran the group home I lived in wouldn't allow it, due to the fact that I was already having social problems. The group home was far from ideal, however, it was a lot better than staying at the orphanage where I used to stay. The other kids never liked me, and friends were few and far between. Or to be realistic, not exist.
I went down the stairs, from my room in the group home. I was the first one up, which wasn't surprising if you considered the fact I didn't go to sleep the night before. I'd been up all night reading James Patterson murder mysteries. They were poorly written and simplistic, but they were the only ones the group home had, and I liked solving mysteries.
I entered the kitchen, and took the pot of coffee off the burner. I poured it into my mug, which read "L Lawliet: World's Greatest Detective." I'd won it in an online contest, where the first to solve the mystery would receive a personally inscribed mug as a reward. As luck (or just sheer brilliancy) would have it, I, L Lawliet was the first and had won.
I added spoonful after spoonful of sugar, knowing it was the only thing that would get me through the day. I had meds for my insomnia, but I didn't take them. Being asleep was a waste of time, and it also made me feel like I was dead.
I stirred my coffee, holding the spoon with two fingers. Doing as such was my own personal tick, something I'd always done. I suppose it just gave the other kids more reason to mock me, but there was nothing I could do about it. It was just the way my hands worked.
Finally I was done with making my coffee, so I drank it, holding the mug with two fingers, and taking small sips. When I was done, I went back upstairs to get dressed. I wore my customary baggy white shirt and blue jeans. I didn't care about clothes, or my appearance. Such things were trivial, banal and boring.
I was ready, so I went back to my room to read.
"Damn it!" Mello's loud, angered voice sounded through the quiet house.
"L! Why the hell didn't you make the chocolate flavored coffee?" He shouted up the stairs at me, knowing I could hear him, and that I was awake. I got out of my crouched position on my bed and walked, slumping down the stairs.
"There wasn't any left…"
"Why the hell not?"
"Because you used it all"
"What the fuck, L? Are you trying to fuck up the first day of school for all of us, just because we don't want to go?"
"No, of course not. We really are all out of it."
"Fucking nerd! You wanna try me?" He pushed past me, slamming me into the fridge. I walked, already humiliated enough for one day, back up to my room. Mello had anger issues, and could sometimes be a bully. He could be alright though, and sometimes we would trade chocolates, but Mello first thing in the morning wasn't ever something I wanted to deal with.
I sat in my room, eyes brimming with tears. I shouldn't have let him push me around like that… But it wasn't a detective's job to fight. I was one to watch from the side lines, safely, and to allow others to take risks.
I went back to my book, and read contentedly until Near crept quietly into my room.
"L?"
"Yes, Near?"
"I'm scared." I was like an older brother to Near. We were both shy and smart, and even though we were the same age, he was much more child like than I was.
"I am too, Near. Don't worry about it. There's only a 65% chance we'll get made fun of."
"But that's not logically correct if you factor in my height."
"I did."
"I don't want to go, L!" I ruffled his hair fondly. I really did like the kid. I wasn't the type to lead people on. It hurt too much, as someone had done it to me, long ago.
Flashback
"Hey L, wanna come play in the sandbox?" Manda asked me. We were both in the first grade, and loved the sandbox. I spent all of my recess time playing in it, letting the rough tan substance run through his fingers. Often I worked on a pattern, using my fingers and also twigs. 1+1, 2+1, 3+2, 5+3, 8+5… I didn't know where that pattern came from, but it was one of the only things that made sense to me.
"Sure, Manda." I smiled at her. Maybe I could show her the numbers… Maybe she'd understand, too.
"What do you wanna play?"
"I don't know," I responded, confused by the question, "look at these!" I showed her the pattern, making lines with my thumb and fore finger.
"Haha! Brittany and Misa, come look! Isn't he weird?" She called her two friends over. The girls skipped over.
"Your strange…" commented Brittany.
"L is a freak!" Misa shouted, pointing and laughing.
"Huh?" I asked, looking at the pretty blonde girl, "why am I a freak?"
"Because of those weird patterns," they were all laughing at me, and as an eight year old, this was a bit much to deal with. I felt tears spring into my eyes, and ran away, desperate to understand. I sought guidance from my teacher, Miss Jackson. She was older, smart, and in charge. She must understand why people are treating me this way…
"Mrs. Jackson, why did Manda and the others say those things to me?"
"Because you different L. You are a genius. The others don't understand."
"I'm sorry. I just want to be able to play in the sand box. And to be able to solve things."
"No, L, there's nothing to be sorry for. You are gifted. Being a genius is a very good thing."
End of Flashback
"Come on, Near. You need to get ready for school."
"No! I'll just go in my pajamas…"
"Near, you do know that will only make things worse…"
"I don't care. I'm not like every one else. I'm smarter. So are, L. Your better than those guys. You don't have to avoid being yourself to avoid being abused."
"I know Near, I know." If only things really were that simple…
Light Point of View
I got into the car with my mother, and sister Sayu. We were going to school, and it was my first day of high school, I wasn't worried. I'd been popular in middle school, and on top of that had perfect games. I was wearing a classy outfit, a cardigan, a white button down shirt, and black corduroy pants.
"Light, will you still help me with homework, even though your in high school?"
"Of course Sayu. Although I may have less time."
"Yay! Thanks Light!" I smiled. Sayu was going into fourth grade was an adorable child.
"I can't believe my little Light is going to high school?"
"Haha. Stop it mom…" I whined. I hated it when she got all nostalgic and emotional.
I got out of the car, and walked into the swarming mass of people. There were two really hot girls standing at the entrance whispering to each other. One had short black hair, and was wearing an extremely short red dress and stilettos. They accented her long legs, for she was quite tall, but not enough that it looked awkward. The other was shorter, but also curvier. She was wearing the most wonderful mini skirt and halter top, and even better, black fishnets on her legs. It was very revealing. She was a blonde. I saw the second girl point to me , and the other one smiled, nodding. The two girls seemed to be younger though, probably freshmen like me.
I wanted to go talk to them, for I was charming, and certainly attractive enough to have a shot, but I had to find my locker, and get to class. I waved to them, winked, and then walked into the school. A blonde guy, wearing skin tight leather clothing pushed past me. He seemed to be in a hurry, although what for, I couldn't imagine. I laughed aloud when I saw his hair. It was yellowy blonde and cut like a little Dutch girl's. I also saw, following behind the blonde were two guys holding hands. One had stark black hair, and the other snow white. They both had shockingly pale skin, though. The one with the black hair had bags under his eyes, and was a little taller than average. He was wearing a baggy white shirt, with baggy blue jeans. The other one was really short and small, and was wearing white pajamas. Normally if I saw two guys holding hands, it would seem faggy, but something about him didn't seem gay at all. More like the tall one was the albino's brother, protecting him from the big bad world. Perhaps they were homeschooled. Or best friends. Or maybe they were really were brothers.
I stopped at my locker and was about to open it up, when a guy with reddish brown hair tripped and fell, knocking into the locker beside me.
"Fuck! I dropped my DS! I was almost finished simultaneously winning Mario cart and finishing the HTML coding for a new website." The plastic toy had fallen to the ground, and seemed to be causing him a great deal of frustration.
"Here you go," I bent over and picked it up, handing it back to him. It was black, and some sort of long written code on one screen, and a cartoon race on the other. When I looked up at his face, I saw him glance away uncomfortably. Then he lifted up his goggles so that he could look me in the eyes. I looked down uncomfortably. He was wearing a striped shirt, a vest and goggles, also combat boots. That explains why he was tripping…
"Thanks", he responding, assessing me.
"No problem."
"I'm Matt." It was then that I finally looked at his eyes. They were greenish blue, but so deep… Like little pools of sadness. There was something beautiful about them that made me want to reach out and comfort him… Then I mentally slapped myself. I shouldn't be thinking about other guys that way.
"I'm Light."
"You play Mario?"
"Nah. I'd rather focus on the real world…"
"I could use one of those in my life… Well, see you around." He pulled his goggles back over his eyes and walked off, eyes glued to the screen again, and his fingers typing and tapping furiously. I wasn't quite sure what to think of him. I finally opened up my locker, and put in my pencil box, picture of my family and other school supplies. When I was finished, I started walking to class.
"I am Mr. Kira, and I am your principle. Hopefully with me as your leader, we can assure a prosperous school year, and safety for every one. I don't want any rotten apples in this bunch."
"Hey, your Light, right?"
"Yeah, that's me."
"I'm Mikami" The guy was also wearing a more classy outfit, and had glasses and long black hair, "were in the same first period together."
Matt POV
I walked to my first class, eagerly beating Mario on my DS. I wasn't sure what to think of the Light guy, but he was pretty hot. Sure he was charismatic, and polite, but probably a real homophobe. But whatever, doesn't matter. Takada and Misa have probably already given him multiple blow jobs.
For first period I had chorus. I was a decent singer, with good enough hand eye coordination for the dancing. Not to mention it was an easy A, and I didn't have to try. I walked in the door, eagerly looking around, hoping I might be able to make a friend. I went to the choral director, Miss Close, and got my seat. I sat down and was watching Mr. Mogi, the pianist play, when he entered the room.
With blonde hair, cut right below his chin, an entirely leather, very tight (and extremely pleasing to the eye) ensemble, and looks to kill for, he was entirely my type. And maybe even gay, too.
He took his seat, which was (luck would have it!) right beside mine. He brushed against me with his shoulder when he was sitting down, and tingles shot up my spine.
"I'm Matt!" I introduced myself, smiling at him.
"'m Mello," he grunted in response.
"Didn't-cha get your morning coffee?" I joked, flirting just a little bit.
"No… House nerd made the wrong kind. The kind without fucking chocolate."
"Sucks." I nodded sympathetically, but was a little hurt by his negative portrayal of the "nerd."
"Were all going to have to sing solos, you know."
"Really? Who told you?"
"Beyond Birthday. You know him?"
"Nah…"
"He knows a person who's in with what goes on in chorus. He told me all the info as a… favor."
"Thanks! At least now I have an extra minute or two for song choice!"
"You do realize I require payment for info, right?"
"Of course." I winked at him.
"Meet me outside after this class. You can miss second period. All of the freshman have a health assembly." O.o… How did he know so much?
"See you there!" I twinkled my fingers at him, pleased to have made a new (for all intensive purposes) friend.
"Now, everyone in here is to sing a solo in front of the rest of the class. I need to know your ranges. Think of this as an audition. It doesn't matter what you sing, as long as it is school appropriate, and show cases your range." Mello elbowed me in the ribs. I was glad for the heads up about this, even if it was only a few minutes.
"First is Mihael Keehl," Mello strutted confidently to the front of the room. He seemed to radiate some sort of aura. Was it just sheer star power? He opened his mouth to sing, and a tumble of husky notes threw themselves at the audience. The way he sang was aggressive, as if he was shaking the audience, yet his voice was flawless and powerful. He sang the song "Thoughtless" by Korn. I could have guessed, what with his pissed off, bad boy demeanor. When he finished, I couldn't help but stare. He wasn't only sexy, but also talented. He could really go places in the music industry.
"Thank you Mihael."
"Call me Mello," she ignored him entirely , and look down at her list.
"Next is Misa Amane," great, little miss tramp was in this in this class. She, too had a confident demeanor, bordering on arrogance. She had an airy, floaty voice. It might have been pretty, if she hadn't been basically giving the class a lap dance, and singing "Can't Be Tamed," by Miley Cyrus. When she finished, she went back to her seat, being sure to sit with her legs open. I sighed, the straight guys in the class must love that…
"Thank you Misa. I'll speak to you after class… Next is Mail Jeevas," I walked to the front of the room, shaking due to nerves. I didn't have the confidence of the two who had sung before me. I crossed my arms behind my back and pulled up my goggles. My voice came out with my intent, shaky and wavering. I tried to stop myself from trembling, but couldn't seem to control it. The first few notes of "New Perspective" by Panic! At the Disco were wobbly, but as I went along with my singing, I became more confident. At the end I curtsied to the audience, holding out an imaginary dress.
"Thank you Mail." I returned to my seat.
"Good job," Mello whispered, smiling at me reassuringly.
"You too. You were amazing!"
"I was, wasn't I?"
The class went by quickly, singer after singer went by, each trying to be the best of the group.
"Where should we go?" He asked, the seme giving the uke some control.
"Doesn't matter. The broom closet could work."
"Okay," he nudged me playfully, and grabbed my hand, pulling me into the dark store room and throwing me against the wall, pressing himself up against me. I could feel his lean body against my own. He closed the only remaining space between us, kissing me violently, and tracing my lips with his tongue, before ramming it into my mouth. I responded, meeting his rough touch with my own soft one. Running my hands over his exposed skin, which was soft, and his hair, silky and smooth, a soft moan escaped my lips, the need for him almost too much for me to resist.
He was running his hand down my torso, about to unbutton my skinny jeans, when I stopped him. We broke apart, both gasping for air.
"Mello… Not yet."
"Why not? Don't you want to?"
"Yes. More than anything, but I want to save it, for sometime, some place special. I don't want to lose my virginity in a broom closet," He raised his eyebrows, seeming surprised.
"You… Virgin?"
"Yeah," I looked down a bit sheepishly, embarrassed at my inexperience.
"Oh my god. I never would have pegged you as the type."
"I'm not a prude, I just… Never got the opportunity. I was always busy with my gaming," he began laughing.
"You serious?"
"Of course… I always take gaming seriously."
"I would get the gamer geek."
"Hey! I'm such a geek you just had to drag me in here to make out with you."
"True, true."
"Well, I'll see you later Matt-y," he smirked at me, before slapping my ass and leaving me alone in the closet. I sighed to myself.
"I never did get his Xbox live number…"
Authors Note: REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! If you do, I'll love you guys! Please? Also: what other pairings should I add? Who should Near be with? Was this any good? Should I continue?