Death Note and its characters belong to Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.

Originally written for the "Yuri Challenge" community on LiveJournal. Thank you to save0point for beta help.

Shinigami Eyes

"He saw me! That policeman saw me!" Misa was angry, which always makes her more beautiful but much more difficult to deal with. But I don't mind that, really.

"What could he possibly have seen?" We were on the next block already, and there were no policemen following us.

"He saw me writing in the notebook right when the storekeeper died!"

The storekeeper not only was an embezzler but also abused his children, and even if I were not a Shinigami without a heart I doubt I would have any sympathy for him. And I loved the expression on her face when she killed him. Misa is so triumphant, so much the queen of all she surveys, a little god of death. But I didn't understand her fear of this policeman.

"How does it matter if he saw you writing in a notebook at the same time as a man you don't know had a heart attack?" Perhaps I should have told her to wait until we got home to write his name, after all. But I hate to interfere with her pleasures, even if sometimes I still think I am wiser than she.

She clutched at my arm, warm skin on dry bone. "The police do know that most of Kira's victims die of heart attacks."

Sometimes, when she is that close to me, I feel something where my heart should be. "But they don't know anything about notebooks. Even if you told him you could kill people with a notebook, he wouldn't believe it."

"That's not the point. I have to kill him too."

She didn't seem at all upset at the prospect, and I couldn't stop her. I didn't really even want to. Even little gods must do what they will, and it is for the rest of us to stand back and watch.

"I just need to know his name," she said. Then she hurried down the block, me following after as always, to look for the police car.

It was a small town, and we found the car outside it, in a deserted area with no one else around. Misa went right up to it, with her usual courage.

"Sir, I have a question, please."

The policeman rolled down the window, and Misa spun him an elaborate tale.

"There's a gambling ring that has its hooks into this town. Some political officials are involved. I know who they are, and if you let me I'll tell you."

"Don't I recognize you?" he asked.

"Oh, you might. I'm Amane Misa and I do a little acting."

I wondered for a moment if the man knew her from her career, and that was all it was. But that probably wouldn't have stopped Misa from destroying him now that she had the idea in her mind.

He looked suspicious, so she began naming names of gamblers from Tokyo, many of which she had killed herself. I was rather surprised he believed her, as it didn't make sense even to me, but she is always charming and convincing. And perhaps he just wanted her to get into his car, after all.

When he invited her to come to the station, Misa backed off slightly with one of her teasing smiles, as if he were a lover she was putting to the test.

"I need to see your identification," she said. "A girl has to be careful."

I almost laughed out loud. But he showed her a card, which she looked at intently.

"Just a moment, and I'll come back," she said to him in an almost seductive tone. She can put nearly any man under her spell. Or woman. Or Shinigami.

She walked behind a building. "I'm going to write that he commits suicide. With his gun."

"Very well," I replied.

"Now, before he can tell anyone what he saw."

I shrugged. "Do as you like."

In minutes we heard a gunshot, and Misa ran happily toward the police car. She was wearing that violent triumphant grin she saves for the death of her enemies. I saw her approach the car.

"Misa!" I shouted. I didn't want her to see a man with his head blown off, even if she was responsible, as culpable as she would be if she had fired the gun.

It was too late and she reached into the car, then pulled her hand out.

"There's a lot of blood," she reported back to me, still smiling, not seeming in the least upset.

Maybe she was pretending the sight didn't disturb her, using her acting skills on me this time. But really, it's probably just that my small god of death is a demon besides. Her fingers were covered with her victim's blood, and she walked to the trunk of the car.

"What would happen if I wrote "Kira" right here, on this car?" she asked in a musing tone.

"You might be caught, just the thing you killed this man to prevent."

She kept her hand in her pocket on the way back to the town's center, and washed it in the first bathroom she saw. My little demon does not lack intelligence.

When we got home she undressed for bed, not even thinking of the fact that I was there, looking at her and contemplating the differences between flesh and bone. But then she spoke to me.

"Isn't it great, how Kira is changing the world?"

She meant the other Kira, the real Kira.

"The world was awful before this," she continued. "Nothing but murder and theft and abuse. No matter what some people say about Kira, no one wants to live like that. Some of them say Kira is wrong, but they all want criminals dead too. They're all hypocrites."

If the world could be changed by a Death Note, a Shinigami might have tried to do so already. But I couldn't tell her that.

"Now people are afraid to commit crimes. We barely need police anymore, all thanks to Kira. I can't wait until I meet him."

"Or her," I added.

"I'm sure the real Kira is a man. At least I hope so, since I love him already."

I have never wished that she didn't love Kira. But when she meets him, she will be even more lost to me.

"Rem, I've made up my mind. I want the Shinigami eyes."

Sometimes I still hate myself for telling her about the eyes. But I could not deny them to her.

"Are you certain?"

"If I had had them today, I wouldn't have had to chase down that policeman.

"Misa... you'll lose half your lifespan."

"Am I going to be an actress when I'm old? No. Nobody wants to watch an old person on the screen. So just make the trade already."

I rested my hands on her shoulders and stroked them. When I looked into her eyes I saw the numbers, the ones that were about to change. The painful thought of Misa dying came to me, but I touched her hair for a moment and then made the trade. I still wonder if I was wrong to do so, but I was following the rules of the notebook.

She wanted to run out and try using them already, but I told her to rest. "The day will come soon enough when you will need the eyes."

I watched over her while she slept, just as I always do. Something went out of her eyes when she made the trade, something soft and loving that she won't feel again. But maybe it was for the best. A god of death cannot afford to have feelings.