"Matsuda-san," Misa said slyly, her voice and the mischievous glint in her eyes only making her cuter. "You're Misa's manager now, right?"
"Yes, that's right," Matsuda confirmed.
Misa came over to the couch where Matsuda was sitting and knelt on it, bouncing a little as she did so. "So doesn't that mean you should do your best to make Misa happy?"
Matsuda hesitated. "Well – I suppose so. If it makes Misa-Misa better able to do her work."
She smiled a triumphant smile. "Then don't go yet! Stay here and keep me company! Misa is lonely!"
"But Misa-Misa, you have a boyfriend," he protested, feeling overwhelmed and taken aback by this. It wasn't that he didn't like Misa-Misa, of course. Rather, the problem was that he liked her too much, was too attracted to her. But he liked her boyfriend, Raito, too, and he didn't want to mess around with his girl.
"Yes, but he is always busy and hardly has any time for Misa! And I can only see him with that Ryuuzaki there, too!" She sniffed, her disdain for L obvious.
"Oh, I suppose that's true. It must be hard on you, Misa." It wasn't something Matsuda thought he could have stood, only seeing his girlfriend with an audience, but then it wasn't as if Raito had much choice about it.
"It is!" She bounced again and Matsuda tried not to watch, but couldn't look away. Her smile was one of a woman who knows the man watching her finds her attractive. Of course, such a thing must happen to Misa-Misa all the time; it wasn't as though Matsuda were anything special. Not like Raito, the genius.
"So you'll stay?" She cocked her head cutely at him, like a small furry animal might.
Matsuda knew this was a bad idea, but he couldn't say no to her. "I will."
"Yay!" She clapped her hands together happily and beamed at him. Her smile when she was happy made her light up all over and Matsuda caught his breath. She was so alive, so energetic, so cute! How could Raito resist her?
An hour later, Matsuda was asking himself if he could resist her. Misa-Misa chattered away at him, asking his opinions on things and actually seeming to listen, to care what he thought. No one did that! Everyone knew he wasn't very smart. Matsuda was perfectly aware that he was more of a mascot to the team than anything important, but he tried his best anyway. Why should Misa-Misa treat him as though she alone took him seriously?
Worse, she kept moving closer, touching him in little ways, like now, when she laid her hand on his arm. What was she trying to do? Surely she couldn't really be so innocent of the effect she had on him? He was sweating, even though the room wasn't that warm. This suite was monitored; Raito could be watching him with his girlfriend right now. How would he feel about that?
"Misa-Misa," he said nervously, trying to edge away from her. "I should really go. This isn't right and I am sure Raito-kun wouldn't like it."
Misa laughed and though it was beautiful, it also sounded fake, the laugh she used when acting rather than being herself. "He wouldn't care. Misa knows."
Matsuda was shocked. "What are you saying? Of course he'd care!"
"Shh." Misa put her finger to his lips. "Raito doesn't love Misa."
Well, it was true that he had said that. But if she knew that, why did she stay here; why did she call herself his girlfriend? "Why do you say that, Misa-Misa?" His breath was coming faster and his chest felt constricted. What was she trying to do here? Surely she wasn't really interested in him, right?
"It's true. He doesn't love me. Yet." Her eyes glowed with determination. Matsuda could tell she was serious; she had even dropped the cute affectations she usually had in her way of speaking. He felt weak before her will. Of course Raito would fall for her if she were so determined! How could any man not?
"Still, if you love him, you shouldn't -" He stood up, though it took all of his willpower to move away from her.
Misa pouted. "Don't go. Didn't you say you'd stay and keep Misa company?"
He looked back at her beautiful face, saw the sad look in her eyes, and weakened. "Misa..." He couldn't bear to see her look so sad: not Misa-Misa, who was usually so happy that she seemed to sparkle, to brighten a room just by entering it. He sat down again, telling himself he really would go soon, as soon as she looked less unhappy.
She took his hand and turned it over, caressing the palm lightly with her small fingers, the nails painted a red so dark it was nearly black. "You and I, we're the same, aren't we, Matsuda? Everyone here is so smart and we can't keep up. And they know it and dismiss us, make fun of us where they think we can't hear or don't notice. But being dumb doesn't make me deaf! I know when I am being made fun of!"
"Misa..." He wished he knew the right thing to say. Matsuda had never realized that she knew how the others talked about her or that she felt this way about it. He put his arms around her, even though he knew he shouldn't, and she buried her face in his chest. She was so tiny, so delicate, that he felt he could break her if he weren't careful. "Don't give up, Misa-Misa! Raito-kun may not love you yet, but he cares about you and worries about you getting hurt."
She looked up and he saw tears in her eyes. "Yes. My Raito is sweet like that. Even if he doesn't love Misa, he doesn't want to hurt her, either."
"Then," he couldn't believe he was saying this, not when he wanted this so much, wanted this sweet girl for himself, "shouldn't I go? I don't want to hurt him, either, or to cause you problems."
She blinked hard and her eyes glimmered like stars. Her smile was sad, but genuine. "Matsuda is sweet, too. But stay. It will serve Raito right for dating other girls when he has Misa! Besides, maybe he'll be jealous and realize he cares more for Misa than he thinks."
Oh. So she was just using him. Well, that was okay, wasn't it? Everyone used Matsuda. He cupped her face in his hand and kissed her as she stared up at him, lips parted in unspoken invitation. Matsuda loved romantic stories; he knew how this was supposed to go. To him, Misa-Misa really was the beautiful princess.
Of course, were this a story, the beautiful girl would fall in love with him and leave the lout who didn't care about her. But he couldn't count on that. Matsuda never had that kind of luck. Why would Misa-Misa love him? He was nothing special and she was, despite what she had said about them being alike.
Misa-Misa looked up at him and licked her lips. "Raito never kisses me like that." Matsuda didn't know what to say. "You really like Misa, don't you, Matsuda-san?"
"Yes, of course I like Misa-Misa! Who wouldn't?"
"You're a nice man, Matsuda-san. Thank you, for being Misa's friend."
"Anything, if it makes you look less sad." He knew the others would laugh at him for saying such a corny thing, but it was truly how he felt. Why should they laugh at his sincerity? Was it really so foolish, so wrong?
She smiled and it was her usual mischievous smile. "Then let's be less sad and lonely together." She crawled on top of him, her skirt in this position barely decent, and kissed him until he felt dizzy.
Misa stood, slightly flushed, as though she'd been drinking and moved towards the bedroom door with that peculiar way of walking she had, more like bouncing, really. Her skirt had ridden up unevenly, with the hem folded on itself on one side, baring most of her garter and an occasional flash of panties as she walked. She stopped and looked back at Matsuda, still sitting on the couch and watching her with what he suspected must be a somewhat dazed expression. "Well? Are you coming with Misa?"
He hesitated, but really, he had already decided. He would feel guilty about this later, but she had spoken the truth about Raito: he didn't love her. Perhaps he would even be grateful should she turn her attentions to someone else, although just because a man didn't want a girl didn't necessarily mean that he didn't think of her as his.
Why was he thinking about Raito when Misa-Misa was here, issuing him an invitation he would be a fool to turn down? Matsuda got to his feet and followed her, feeling vaguely unreal, as though this were a dream. "I'm here, Misa," he said, in the manly, reassuring way he thought a romantic hero, the prince from some fairytale, might have said it, and covered her dainty hand on the doorframe with his own.