Misa on stilettos, a death note fanfic

Fanfiction Title: Misa on stilettos

Manga/Anime: Death Note

Author: Harley Cooper

Characters: Misa Amane, Light Yagami, Naomi Misora, Teru Mikami, L, Aizawa and Soichiro Yagami

RATED: T

Theme: a combination of the surreal and the sublime

Author's Notes: This work of fiction will embody an illumination on Misa Amane's character and tragedy. It will be divided in four parts, dealing with other characters' notions of her and their brief impacts on her life. On the final part, the symbolism of the red stilettos will be revealed. This fic is originally published into four different one-shots. I decided to combine all of them into one fic to save time since the said one-shots have the recurring appearance of the red stilettos anyway. So this might seem familiar. I still hope you guys review.

Summary: Misa loves Light. She loves her massacred family. And most of all, she loves her favorite pair of stilettos and how it represented parts of her she tried to understand and make sense of but never could and never will.

---

XXX Humble XXX

Light closed the door behind him and just stood there. He didn't follow Misa. Impossible it was when she spins around, runs across the room, opens the door to the bathroom and jumps on the bed. How infantile. It's beyond him how she moves this much; just one of those irrelevant things lost forever to him. Didn't need to wonder anymore, didn't need to care either.

"Misa, are these all your bags?" He had to carry five big suitcases inside all by himself, without her help. This is Misa, his supposed to be fuck toy of a woman, who must accommodate and clean even shit for him. See here, he only gets profane when he's pissed. He slammed down the bags on the floor and Misa looked at him.

"Does Light need some water?" she asked. She grins like she's cute. She's not. He could've disposed her. What's to stop him? Nothing. No Rem. He should just—

Misa tripped on something. Light pinched the bridge of his nose and walked towards her to see what she did wrong. Childlike pouting and fuming followed and she sat on the sofa behind her. "It broke," she said, massaging her ankle then gazing up at him. "It's Misa's favorite."

Light peered at her left foot and saw that she meant those damn red stilettos. He hated her for wearing this kind of shoes. Her heels were so lean that Light always knew disaster will strike. Misa once reasoned out that it gives her some height advantage to hug Light and fit snugly in his arms. He disagreed silently to himself; she can't hug him and fit into him in any way conceivable. Idiot.

"You idiot," Light tried to make it sound less menacing than what he intended. He took the wallet from his pocket and searched for the tiny super glue stick he keeps around in case he needed to fix something. It wouldn't be a waste of it, really, because he knew if he didn't make this screw-up go away, Misa will whine and whine for the rest of the day and he can't handle that. He was already starting to regret asking her to move in with him.

He goes to his knees, taking the broken heel and spreading the sticky super glue on the edges. He did this unthinkingly, even as he took Misa's foot and aligned the heel to the sole of her stiletto, pressing hard on it and holding it in place. It would be easier to hold it as it dries; he knew telling Misa not to move will be futile. To avoid her wriggling and destroying what he's trying to put back together would call for patience. So Light stayed there, on his haunches, as he held Misa's foot, one hand cupping the side while the other pressed down the heel to stick.

"Light?"

"This will only take three minutes, Misa."

"Misa is worried. Light looks sad."

He ignored her. She doesn't exist to him.

"Misa is glad that Light wanted her to live with him." She says softly. He recognized that annoying, solemn melody in her voice. And it bothered him.

"Light…" Don't look up.

He pushed harder on the heel, counting the seconds on his mind.

Misa suddenly, but with complete serene tenderness, patted his head. Her palm touched his hair and her fingers brushed through it.

As he was looking intently, and yet at the same time blankly, at Misa's foot and the red surface of her stiletto gleaming back at him, Light thought about the things he had done and the things to be done. Whatever he managed to grab onto and slip through him never mattered at all. His shoulders felt heavy. His throat tingled with something that made the veins on his neck slightly sore. His fingers felt numb against the heel.

He looks at Misa, her hand caressing his hair, her eyes compassionate and warm.

Light mutters. "I'm sorry." He looks back at her foot.

Misa didn't speak.

Light remembers L that day, when he was drying his foot, looking so passive that Light could've laughed at him. But he didn't. He just sat there like what Misa is doing right now, wondering, perhaps, about what he wondered back then.

So this is what it feels like, human and betrayed by your actions. It must have been a modest position. Why do we have to be loved when we're going to hate ourselves in spite it? God damn it all, Light thought.

Light told Misa to step hard on the floor just to be sure that the heel was fixed. He stretches himself up and tells her to sit like that for a few minutes, with the heel pressed hard against the floor, then take off her stilettos and put them aside.

Misa just smiles. She didn't ask what he apologized for. Well, maybe he could keep this idiot fuck toy of a woman after all.

---

XXX Preoccupied XXX

Naomi browsed through the cosmetics section of the shopping mall one exceptionally cold afternoon. Tuesday wasn't one of her days and she didn't even like make-up. She's supposed to choose the perfect shade of lipstick that would suit her. She has no idea which. Anything does look good at her, she'd been told. For example, two salesladies complimented her about her appearance ten minutes apart. One took penchant on her flowing ebony hair and the other one pointed out her delicate fair skin. Naomi was grateful to look pleasant, at least to other women, not because she wants to be the cause of envy. In all honesty, Naomi feels terrible if a man sees her only for her face and nothing more than that; which is exactly why she needs to be sure that the man she's currently with, Raye, would think otherwise.

She wouldn't call it an innate desperation per se, but she just doesn't want to be wrong about Raye. He makes her happy and apparently, according to customs, that should be enough. But Naomi can feel dread climbing up her spine, one that she couldn't put her finger on. She doesn't scare easy but this bothers her very much. Her hand on the counter as she stared at herself in the mirror blankly, she wanted to panic. There were at least twenty-five lipsticks looking up at her from below the mirror. And she needs to pick one.

"Can Misa help?"

Naomi snapped out of it and glanced at the young girl who appeared in front of her. She was a saleslady, blonde, petite and smiling.

"Well, I'm afraid I do need some assistance, thank you."

"What is the customer's name?"

"Uh, Misora."

"What does Misora-san want to buy?" she asked in the same cheery note.

"I was hoping to get some lipstick for a cheap price."

The blonde girl shakes her head good-humoredly. She was wearing a dark blue headband that matches the color of her uniform. Her fingernails were also dark blue. Naomi blinks at her, smiles.

The blonde girl says. "Misa thinks Misora-san shouldn't sacrifice the quality of her lipstick because she's trying to select a less expensive one. The reason why some things come cheap, Misa thinks, is because they're not made to endure."

"And the same logic goes for lipstick?"

"Misa doesn't care much for logic, Misora-san. Misa cares about luxury that makes girls like her feel beautiful."

Naomi raised an eyebrow. She lowers her voice. "Don't you think that's a bit shallow of you, Misa-san?"

Misa's smile remained intact as ever. "If Misa is shallow, that's only because she doesn't take all things seriously. Misa thinks people who take everything too seriously don't enjoy the things that are simple and wonderful."

"Misa-san, I think you're generalizing."

"Eh? That's only because Misora-san is telling Misa logic and Misa doesn't think she needs to understand things like that." She giggles and bounced a little when she did. Naomi doesn't know what to make out of this.

"Are you still studying?" she asked the younger girl.

"Misa dropped out of college to become a part-time model and saleslady."

"And your parents?" Naomi got curious. "Are they okay with this?"

Misa looks at her side and takes a lipstick. She sways it around gracefully and then she looks back at Naomi. "Misa's parents are kind people, you see."

"They don't think you should have proper education?"

"Misa's mother thinks Misa will learn best from experiences and people."

"And your father?"

"Misa's father thinks Misa will change the world because he knows Misa will create excitement everywhere she goes."

Naomi doesn't understand. This short conversation is making her feel sick somehow. What was it about this girl? "They sound very supportive."

"Misa's brother wants to be an architect. He's graduating from high school."

"That sounds nice."

Misa opens the capsule of lipstick and carefully placed her other hand on Naomi's shoulder as she applied the lipstick on her. Naomi froze but she didn't say anything. Misa was staring at her lips as she colors it gently. "You have a very attractive face, Misora-san."

Naomi nodded a thank you and blushed slightly. She gazed at herself in the mirror. "What shade is this?"

"Light brown." Misa announced proudly. "Misa thinks Misora-san's beauty will be enhanced by less revealing colors. Unlike Misa who wears shiny and bright things to call attention to herself."

"What do you mean?" Naomi really wants to know what this girl thinks. She didn't perceive her as naïve as she thought she was at first. There was a certain wit about her presence Naomi enjoyed.

"Misa only means that she's pretty in an ordinary sense. She can dress up in cute outfits and people will look. But Misora-san could just walk in a room with ten other girls like Misa and nobody will ever take their eyes off her."

Naomi blushed again and she touched her lips, sticky and warm with the lipstick. She looked at the younger girl. "You're very sweet to say that."

Misa cocked her head to the side. She smiled again and took both Naomi's hands in her own and pressed them firmly. "Misa believes Misora-san's happiness will come to her sooner than she expected."

"Really?" Naomi's spirits were filled with hope all of a sudden.

"When Misa thinks it so, Misa knows!" she giggles and doesn't take her hands off. Naomi didn't mind. Something warm was growing inside her and she ceased to care about her own fears. She just wants to watch this gorgeous, honest smile that clearly not all girls can display like this Misa can.

XXX

Naomi was dining with Raye in the restaurant. She was lost in thought, still thinking about that spectacular acquaintance from earlier. She would smack her lips together just to imagine how Misa applied the lipstick. Raye was talking about work but Naomi didn't listen well.

She takes the glass of champagne and was careful not to spoil her lipstick. She looks down on the glass and saw a ring gleaming on the surface. She jerked her head up at Raye who was smiling.

Naomi's heart started to beat fast. Raye stood up and poured the champagne on an empty bowl of soup and kneeled before her. As soon as he asked and she said 'yes,' he slipped the ring on her finger and the people around them applauded.

XXX

Misa wished she asked for that pretty woman's number. She would like to get together again with her because she has a good feeling they could be wonderful friends. Misa didn't have many female companions lately because she seems to be the source of envy of most girls her age. But Misora-san is an older woman and she might not be shallow as she pointed out to Misa.

She knew she will meet Misora-san again because she believes in fate. And she knew fate is always on her side.

Misa takes out the key and notices that the door knob was jammed. The room inside seems quiet. Misa calls out her brother's name as she opens the door. The lights were turned off. How strange. She walks in. There was something wet under her feet. She searched for the switch and turned it on.

A massive pool of blood soaked her favorite red stilettos.

---

XXX Seek and Rescue XXX

Teru Mikami stopped his car on the side of the road, hands gripping self-consciously on the wheel, eyes glaring through his front mirror right at the approaching hitchhiker from behind him. And he waited. The blonde girl slammed the door as she got inside and turned to face him with a quick look-over as to who is her rescuer that night and finally offers him a big, red-lipped smile. He started driving, peering at her sideways and thinking how she's soaking the leather seat and that her stilettos' soles have mud on them and he didn't like that. This wasn't even his car. It belonged to a friend back in college. The rain was terrible that Sunday evening and when Teru saw the girl standing in her heels wet and alone, he felt the need to take her with him, being the goddamn Good Samaritan as always. Basic story of his life; save a lamb, do God's work. How did this happen?

He could've anticipated this. He used to be good at those things. As soon as he hit the brakes and slowed down, he should've known by then. Actually, as soon as he saw the girl bouncing on the side of the road, waving her arms high in the air, he shouldn't have momentarily considered stopping for her. But he didn't just consider it. He wanted to assist this innocent civilian, a woman at that, who is lost in the middle of the empty darkness of night. So Teru, full of goodie-goodie shit, can't certainly have the stomach to leave her alone like that, right? Right?! So he stopped his car, not his car even, his friend's, to pick up some stranger because that's what he is. Fucking Good Samaritan. Now he's starting to regret being handed down the cross to carry alone.

He's only been driving for a mile and she wouldn't stop talking. His right ear will never function the same way as his other ear ever again. Teru should've brushed her off, tell her that he doesn't care that her manager wouldn't let her go outside alone, that he doesn't care that her boyfriend barely comes home, that he doesn't care that her feet hurt and that the heel of her favorite stiletto broke again and that it's a shame because her boyfriend fixed it for her when the heel snapped the first time. He doesn't care. But he didn't tell her that. He calmly switched on the radio, hoping the noise in his head would clear. Music helps all the time but she wouldn't let him have his way, of course, of course! Teru glanced briefly at her once in awhile as she sang everything the radio plays. He has to listen to her, no choice in that (unless he ripped off his ears) and admittedly, she wasn't terrible. She can sing. But he just...doesn't...care! This Misa girl, as she keeps addressing herself in the third person, proves to be more notorious than any criminal in the street. She's a mouth villain, yapping and yapping and yapping...

"Where should I drop you off?" he asked very politely. She grinned at him and placed her feet, red and sore, in front of the windshield. Teru pursed his lips and said nothing. He waited for her answer.

"Misa doesn't know." She answered with the same chirpy voice. "Misa will just stick around with driver-san. Where will driver-san go?"

Teru tried not to rub his temples. He kept his hands on the wheel. "Store. I need to buy meat for dinner. I hope Misa-san wouldn't mind?"

"Misa will help!"

At this point protests are futile and Teru had various attempts as they drove to the meat store. Maybe they weren't forceful enough or aggressive enough. He is always rendered helpless in the presence of women like her, reduced to a robot nodding, not wanting to disagree, because he can't handle the crying and tantrums and this Misa girls looks like she can really throw a fit. They were inside the meat store and she was picking his groceries for him, if you can believe it. She has such—Teru was still having a hard time settling on one word—a bundle of energetic nerves, like somebody fed her starch and she keeps burning it. Thank Kira that there were only few people at this time of the night. But it's still embarrassing.

"What work does driver-san do?" Misa asked as the cashier took the meat packs and slid them one by one with continuous beeping in the background.

"I work as a lawyer." Teru answered. He exhaled as he carried the two plastic bags, following her and trying not to get dizzy as she bounced and her skirt bounced and her pigtails bounced too. The motions of this heavy bouncing are taking a toll on him. He walked faster to get ahead and load the groceries on the backseat. Misa jumped inside the car as soon as he opened the door for her.

They started driving. Teru should find a way to get her back to her place. She's been telling him that she lives with her boyfriend.

"Lawyer-san?"

"I have a name, you know."

"Will lawyer-san give Misa his name? He doesn't look like he trusts Misa-san." She giggled and swung her legs in front of her and Teru noticed that she was wriggling her toes as well. This is unbelievable. How can a woman be so ostentatious? She couldn't sit still. She would touch buttons and ask him what this button does and presses it anyway. Teru felt tired just watching her.

"It's Mikami."

"Does Mikami-san want to take me home now?"

"I would think it's practical since it's almost midnight and I prefer that you stay indoors at this time of the night."

Misa giggled and placed her feet in front of the windshield again.

Teru couldn't keep quiet anymore. "Put your feet down, please."

"You sound like Misa's boyfriend!" she tossed her head back and laughed. And then she started poking his right hand as it rests on the wheel. Teru didn't move as he kept his eyes on the road.

Poke. Poke. She was relentless.

Teru shifted his gaze to her for a while and glared but she's either this dumb or just plain evil. She kept poking.

"Misa-san, I think you should tell me now where I could drop you off." Teru removed his hand away from poking distance but she suddenly grasped it, held on to it. Teru looked at her. She had a solemn head down. He got a little scared just watching her in this unfamiliar pose.

"Do you think Misa did wrong?"

"Excuse me?"

She looked up and smiled but she's not fooling him anymore. There is something very catastrophic about her. He knew now. He didn't know when he was watching her from a distance but up-close he can see her upheaval.

He called her name, encouraging her to confide in him even though he's not sure he wants it himself. But it's what he does long before he became a lawyer. He used to have classmates entrusting him and he was loyal to every one of them. It might not be bad to offer the same kind of warmth and assurance to a stranger. Given how she gave a detailed history of her life just thirty minutes ago, he now feels an obligation to take care of her, just a little while.

"Misa loves her career. Misa loves her boyfriend. But her boyfriend is seeing another woman behind Misa's back. And Misa knows. But Misa—Misa doesn't care because Misa wants to believe that Light can't love anybody else but Misa. Because—"

Teru slowed down the car at the side of the road as soon as he saw her choking back the tears. He grips her hand back mildly.

"—because Misa can't love anybody else but Light!"

And she completely collapsed. Just like that, flailing her arms around his neck, pulling him down as she sobbed. Finding somebody so vulnerable and easy to break, it was scary. And Teru never leave people like her alone.

"You should go away from him. If a man wrongs you with infidelity, a woman of worth should not stand for that."

"But maybe Misa is overreacting." She pulls away and Teru stared. She wasn't crying or shaking anymore. She had the full smile again and she was shaking her head and pigtails and she's just...not crying anymore.

She rests her back on the seat and she told Teru that she likes to be taken home now. Misa gave instructions to her apartment. He started driving and didn't look at her. But his mind was racing with one question throughout the whole drive: Why did he care about her only now? Teru wants to save people. He couldn't help this inflexible nature of his. And now he wants to save her.

They arrived at her place and Teru wanted to open the door for her but she was already out. Teru searched for the right words to make her stay but she climbed back in and run her fingers through his hair.

"It's so gay to have hair this long, Mikami-san." She winked and stepped out again.

Teru looks at the windshield and taps the wheel and then he glanced at her and called her. Misa leaned her torso back to the car, smiling. She'd already wiped the smeared mascara earlier while she was telling him the directions. For a while when their eyes met, he thought that maybe she sensed his guilt, his compassion, his monster telling him to do things so everything would be perfect. But maybe he was wrong.

"When you marry this man and you have his child and he still cheats on you, I will gladly land you a good divorce settlement."

Misa giggles. "Arigatou, Mikami-san! You take care now!"

Teru held her stare for a while and then she closed the door. He started to back the car out and she stood there, waving vigorously. Teru drove pass her.

He was only driving for two minutes when his cell phone rang. He answered it and it was Kiyomi Takada, giving out Kira's orders. He arrived back to his condominium. He kicked out his shoes, removed his jacket, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned his collar. He should've fixed his clothes neatly on the side like he always does; place the shoes under the bed carefully like he always does. But he was on the bed now, sniffing the clean white sheets, thinking about her smile and everything else.

That girl must be sought and saved.

---

XXX Worn them out XXX

Second pair

Two department stores already told Misa that they don't have her size.

It was absurd. She remembered putting on her first pair in that very same store and how it fit her so perfectly. She also used to work in one of those department stores and she saw the very same pair from the other store and she put it on and it fits. It has been almost three years and perhaps they did run out of stock but those red stilettos are always in style. So she reserves an order. In one week, she finally gets her second pair. It was just the right timing too, because she was meeting Kira this week, a young man named Light Yagami, and she dreamt of being on a date with him while wearing her favorite red stilettos.

It was such a darn shame, though, that she couldn't wash off the stains of blood in her old ones. A big darn shame. So she felt inclined to buy a new one.

Third pair

This time her new stilettos got lost somewhere inside the headquarters. She only had it for a month and she takes good care of her shoes. It's very frustrating indeed. She blamed that perverse detective Ryuuzaki. She knew he had such a crush on Misa and he might've taken it for keepsake because that's what gross people like him do. Whenever the said detective didn't allow Misa to spend time alone with Light, she would accuse him of stealing her stilettos. He remained indifferent to her allegations but Misa knows he doesn't appreciate being called a thief.

Freak. She hates the guy.

Fortunately, he surprised her when he came to her room one night with her boyfriend Light still "handcuffed" to him. Freak!

Ryuuzaki dropped a box wrapped in a yellow ribbon on top of the table. Misa glances at him suspiciously and then she pulls out the ribbon and opens the box. There it was: new red stilettos.

"Does this mean Ryuuzaki-san admits he did take Misa's pair?"

He bites on his thumb and he looks behind him where Light was just standing patiently, glancing at the door once in a while.

Ryuuzaki looks back at Misa. "No. However, this does make Misa-san pleased now, doesn't it?"

"Yes." Misa narrows her eyes, still annoyed that he's talking to her. "Misa didn't know that it's in Ryuuzaki-san's interest to make Misa pleased."

"And why wouldn't it be, Misa-san?" Ryuuzaki edges closer to the sofa where she sat and she winced, pulling away.

"How much does Misa-san love Light-kun?" he asks, one knee on the sofa and he was gazing at her with those large, insomniac eyes. Misa grimaced.

"Misa loves Light very much!"

"Then Light-kun has a favor to ask you."

Misa looked at Light who just exhaled and crossed his arms. She beamed at Ryuuzaki as she answered. "Anything for Light!"

Maybe it's because Ryuuzaki arranged the perfect way that Misa could show how much she would do anything to win Light's affections. Perhaps it's because Ryuuzaki saved her trouble with money and went on his way to buy new stilettos. Whatever it is, Misa was grateful and she took back all those horrible things she said to his face. She kissed his cheek and only giggled when Ryuuzaki announced that he could fall in love. Such a cutie for a freak.

As she puts on the stilettos and Ryuuzaki stood there watching, Misa wonders about the kind of boyfriend Ryuuzaki would be and the kind of girl who would like him. Crossing her legs, she smiles at Light and secretly she was smiling at Ryuuzaki too.

Fourth pair

Misa, out of whim, asked Aizawa to brush her hair. The cop was very shocked to hear this kind of request from the girl and it took him a few minutes to pick up the brush from the corner.

Misa was in front of the mirror as she waited for Aizawa to run the brush through her silky blonde hair. She noticed that he did this very carefully, like she was fragile glass, and she found it endearing. He kept quiet as he combed her hair with gentle, long strokes. She remembered that Rem used to brush her hair this way. That idiot shinigami. Why did she have to get herself killed for Misa? As if one shinigami isn't enough to die for her. How ridiculous.

"Why did Aizawa-san shave his hair?"

Aizawa paused before he answered. "I need to."

"Eh? You don't look the same funky Aizawa Misa knows."

"Funky?" She could see the frown in his face reflected by the mirror. She giggled.

Misa turns around and takes the brush from him. Her hand grazed his skin and she noticed him give a faint shiver. Their eyes met. Aizawa watched her, still frowning. She asked him. "How's Soichiro-san doing?"

"His daughter is definitely unable to recover from the stress and trauma of what happened to her." Aizawa said sadly. Misa nodded and faced the mirror once more.

The door opens and she expects it to be Light but it was her future father-in-law instead. He asked Aizawa to have a few minutes with Misa alone.

Misa sat there for a while. Soichiro was looking down at the floor, holding a shoebox. Misa was about to ask what he brought when he took out the pair of red stilettos (to her amazement) and laid it on the floor. She was barefooted and it seems as if Soichiro was looking at her feet intently for no reason.

"Soichiro-san." Misa stood up and tenderly wrapped her arms around the old man. She detected the strange way his shoulders seemed to collapse slightly and the curve in his spine that seemed oddly brittle for some reason. His hand held her nape and she felt how coarse his palm and fingers are but the contact was brief because he gently pushed her away. And he smiled.

"I'm fine, Misa-chan. Thank you." Soichiro glanced down and saw that Misa was stepping on the stilettos.

"Soichiro-san?" Misa saw his eyes water.

"Sayu wouldn't wear them. I remember she likes the color red. And shoes and bags and all those girly stuff. I used to dislike how she dresses." He muttered, his lips trembling. "How foolish of me. She was just being young."

Misa placed both her hands on his shoulders because for a moment she thought he was going to fall down. But he didn't. He just stood there, gazing at the stilettos. Misa decided to stop stepping on them and Soichiro bent down to take them.

"Sayu can barely walk, let alone wear something so..." he fondled the stilettos gently as if it was her daughter's head he was cradling. Misa couldn't take her eyes off his hands caressing the stilettos.

"Do you want them, Misa-chan?"

She looks at his face and then through the kind eyes moist with tears and she says yes, she wants them. She would wear them for Sayu.

"I'm glad." Soichiro said.

When the old man left, Misa hurriedly tried on the stilettos and then she walked to her closet and takes the one she owned before, the pair that the late Ryuuzaki bought for her. She placed it inside a plastic bag. And then she took a lollipop from her secret storage of sweets and placed that inside as well. She goes outside and dumps them in the garbage can for the truck to pick up later.

When Misa broke the heel of one of the stilettos, she thought she's going to have to buy a new one. Again. Because things that get lost, undesired or broken must be replaced.

But Light didn't think so. He fixed it for her. Misa was overcome with the sweetest kind of grief as she Light knelt in front of her, receiving an apology she wasn't certain she earned. Didn't matter, maybe, because Light saw it fit in this scenario. She said nothing; he wanted nothing from her.

One of these days, he'll know it; there's a connection they share, a lot like love and nothing like it at all at the same time.

Misa will now take care of this particular pair of red stilettos. She begins to see at last that sometimes there are things that remain irreplaceable; even if said things can no longer be restored in their old form.

When Light left for work the same day, she took out her first pair of stilettos (still dipped in blood from that night's massacre). It was a birthday gift from her parents. Come to think of it, the blood was barely distinguishable because of the same color of the stilettos but nonetheless, Misa could never wear them anymore.

But she can't throw them away either.

She remembered. That year she dropped out of college and found work as a part-time saleslady.

And her parents still saw it fit to buy her something nice, something she wasn't certain she earned.

And just like when Ryuuzaki bought her a pair or whenever Rem would brush her hair, she felt grateful.

And it mattered.

It did.