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Rainy Nights
Chapter 1: The Man Who Made My Head Ache
A story where an intelligent Misa figures out about her cheating boyfriend while on a trip to England. On the ride back to the airport, her car breaks down and she finds herself staying at an orphanage. Whammy's House.
•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•
The call had been the last straw.
There had been several other times I'd thought Light was cheating on me; the time I found a tube of lipstick in his pants pocket, or the time I found a cell phone number on a crumpled up piece of paper in a shirt pocket. But, the same exact lipstick was given to me as a gift later that week, and Light had written important numbers on a piece of paper before, so I figured it was an employee or a boss from his job as a detective he needed to remember to call.
I was on a vacation/promotion trip in England at the time I got the call. At seven thirty pm I called Light, telling him I'd be later, since the flight was obviously going to be delayed due to the rain. There was a LOT of rain.
At 9:46 pm, I got a phone call from Light. There weren't any words, just sucking sounds, squishing noises, and the occasional strange moan. Suddenly, "Oh shit." and the phone was quickly hung up. And that's when I knew.
There was someone else with him.
Okay, that may have sounded about overly dramatic, but believe me, I was flipping my shit. Not the most ladylike term to put it in, but that was how it was. The rain was helping my already weak emotional and mental state, and the coffee I'd had earlier was beginning to wear off. There was a house in the distance, about a quarter-mile, or at least, I thought it was a house, I thought it was a quarter-mile.
And that's when I heard COUGH POP BIIING BLIP and my car stopped working.
Now, a normal person's reaction in this situation would be to stay in their car until the rain stopped, sleep in there if necessary, and then the next morning get out and either try to fix it, or hitchhike until you get where your going.
My reaction? I climbed out of my car in so much rain I could barely see my hand in front of my face and began a long, long, walk to the source of the light.
And believe me, it was a very, very, long walk.
At around quarter to one, I finally knocked on the door. A man, a very old man, answered the door. He had to be around seventy, but his eyes sparkled with a youthful gleam.
"Umm… hello." I said in my best English, "My name is Amane Misa, Misa Amane, I mean–"
"Stop." The man replied in Japanese. "It's okay, Amane-san, please, come in."
"Uh, it's okay," I said, somewhat frantically. "My car just broke down a little ways back and I'd just really like some gas, I think that's all that's wrong."
"Nonsense. You can stay the night here and I'll get some of the boy's here to go out and get your car and I'm assuming bags? Are you headed to an airport, Amane-san?" I told him I was.
"Then come in, and I'll get you a return flight for the day you specify." I nodded gratefully and walked into the house.
"Welcome to Wammy's House orphanage." The man said, "This is an orphanage for gifted boys and girls," He paused and told a group of teenage boys to go out and get my car. They quickly left. "I'll get the oldest boy here to give you a tour and get you a hot bath." I smiled extremely happily.
"RYUUZAKI!" The man screamed. As the word exploded from his lungs, a searing pain hurried itself into my skull.
"Ngh…" I said quietly, pressing my finger to one of my temples.
"What did you need?" A man said in Japanese. My head began to hurt even more. I looked up and, through the pain in my head, looked at this "Ryuuzaki".
Ryuuzaki was probably tall, but I wasn't sure because his back was probably snapped in half from the way he slouched. He was shoeless and sock less, wearing baggy jeans that brushed the top of his feet in the front, and were on the floor in the back. His shirt was a plain, white, long sleeve shirt with some stains on it. His skin was sickly pale, and his raven-black hair was messy and hung in his face. He looked like he hadn't slept in months, years even, and the bags under his eyes were horrifyingly unsightly. I understood why my head hurt now. This was the most unsightly, fashion-blind person I'd ever seen in my entire life.
"Give her the tour," the elderly man said. "End in the suite with the bathroom. Prepare her a bath." Ryuuzaki nodded.
"Please," he said, "follow me, Miss Amane."
Ryuuzaki showed me all around the mansion, stopping in several places. One, to, in one fluid motion, pull water and two small tablets out of a cupboard and hand them to me.
"I noticed that you have been rubbing your temples. This should help with your headache." I nodded, took the tablets and water, and smiled, saying,
"Thank you, very much."
The second stop was in front of a maple wood door. A small panel was set into the wall next to the door. Ryuuzaki pressed his thumb to a small touchpad on the panel and I heard the door unlock. He opened it.
I swear, it was the library out of Beauty and the Beast. Books lined every wall and a small section was cut off from access by a metal cage frame. I wanted to ask about it, but I figured it it was caged off, no one wanted to talk about it.
"This library is directly based on the library from Beauty and the Beast." Ryuuzaki said, causing a jolt of pain in my head, confirming my suspicions about the library. "It is my favorite room in the entire Orphanage other than my personal quarters in the basement. Very few are allowed in here," he pressed my thumb to the touchpad, typed on the keyboard above it, and said, "now you are one of the few."
I instinctively blushed. I was one of few people who could enter a room straight out of a movie. My headache was still beating against my skull, but it felt a bit better.
We didn't stop again until Ryuuzaki opened up a door and handed me a key.
"This is where you'll stay," he said. "Please strip off your clothes and leave them outside the door—" I slapped him; hard.
"Pervert!" I screamed.
"…And put on the bathrobe sitting on the chair. You'll catch hypothermia if you stay in those wet clothes." I slowed my breathing.
"S-sorry... Misa didn't mean—"
"It's alright." Ryuuzaki said, walking into the bathroom. I heard the door close and I peeled off my sopping wet clothes. I folded them up and set them outside the door. I heard a pair of tiny feet come pitter-pattering down the hall. I opened the door and saw a five year-old girl walking down the hallway with my clothes.
"Do you have the robe on?" Ryuuzaki asked.
"Yeah I do," I replied. The door opened.
"Please come in." I did.
The bathroom was beautiful. Tile floors, a mirror that took up the entire left wall, a countertop with enough space for me to lie down on top of it. The bathtub was large, spacious enough to seat two people comfortably and three people if there was really a need to. The roof opened up to a skylight, but the door was closed because all that could've been seen was rain. A separate shower was in one corner, while the toilet sat in another.
The bathtub was full of warm water that smelled like lilacs, my favorite scent, and bubbles. A sponge, some soap, and a razor were on the floor next to the tub.
"Please enter the tub and clean yourself as you see fit," Ryuuzaki said, "Call me when you are done and I'll get the shampoo and conditioner." I nodded and he left the room. I could barely hear him talking on what I presumed to be the phone in the room outside.
I scrubbed myself clean with the sponge, and then shaved my legs and underarms. I let myself soak in the water for a long time before calling Ryuuzaki in. I could hear some feet pattering in the bedroom, but they stopped immediately when Ryuuzaki opened the door.
"Are you done?" He asked. I nodded. He walked over to the cabinets under the sinks, bent down, and began fishing through them. Several minutes later, he pulled out two bottles, ripped off what I assumed to be a sticky-note, and walked over to me.
I had plunged my head underwater several times and my hair was completely soaked. Ryuuzaki bent down and began rubbing the shampoo into my scalp, making tiny circles with his fingers. I was about to object, saying I could do it myself, but it felt really nice to have someone else doing something for me since I was so tired from walking in the rain.
He told me to dip my head under several times as he washed the products out of my hair. He then stood, handed me a big, fluffy towel and my robe, and left.
I stood, drying myself off, and then I realized.
My head didn't hurt at all while he was washing my hair. It kind of freaked me out, to be honest. In the whole time I was here, the only time my head didn't pound with agony was when this man washed my hair?!
I sighed, letting the thoughts slip away. I went into the bedroom and found my two suitcases sitting on the floor, and a pair of my pajamas resting on the bed. I blushed a kind of furious, embarrassed blush; knowing someone had gone through my stuff was creepy and very personally invasive. But I let go of those thoughts, too. I pulled on the pajamas, climbed into the bed, with the soft, comfy mattress, and fell asleep, my dreams clouded of thoughts of the man who made my head ache.
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