Through Weary Eyes
1. Cocktail
By the time Matsuda realized he was all-out drunk, it was already too late. Lazily, he sprawled half-upside-down across Misa's couch – the same one he knew she and Light used to cuddle on, and probably where they used to discuss the plans for their next criminal's death – and tipped his wine glass to the ceiling fan, like he was saluting it.
He swigged down the last sip of the heavy red wine, only he ended up with most of it rolling down his chin and cheeks, and he knew he probably looked like some kind of grotesque blood-drinking vampire.
"Oops," he said with a grin. "Par'renly drinkin' upsi'down 'sin too smart, huh, Misa-Misa?"
Matsuda turned his head enough to grin at the tiny blonde woman sitting on the love seat to his left, swinging her legs contentedly.
"Nah, 's not that hard," she replied cheerfully. "I do it a lot. N' sometimes, when I'm really ti'sy, I pr'tend Ligh's standin' up there, holdin' the glass for me…" Even drunk, her voice sounded suddenly sad. "Matsu-chan?"
"Yeah?" He was lying on his back in a daze, watching the fascinating rotation of the ceiling fan's blades.
"I miss Ligh'…when's he comin' home t' see me?"
"Soon, proba'ly."
Matsuda heard the cushions and springs in the love seat groan and knew Misa had rolled over and was looking at him.
"Tha's what e'ryone…keeps tellin' me. But it's been over two whole weeks wif' no word a'tall from him…" She trailed off, and then he heard her stand up. "Do ya' wanna' cocktail, Ma'su-chan?"
He nodded and shut his eyes. "Sure. Juss' don' fall n' hurt yourself."
Only half-aware of Misa slowly walking away, he knew he was going to pay for this big time in the morning. Regardless, even a few hours of drunken reprieve from the nightmares, Light's accusing stare, and the blood and the gunshots made it all worth it.
"Mas'u-chan?"
He lifted his head with effort to peer over the couch. Misa was leaning against the kitchen counter, her eyes huge, glassy, and red.
"You're a de'tetive. A cop. Ligh' worked wif' you cops of'in…I know all of you thin' I'm made of glass o' somethin…so are ya' lyin' to me?" Her lip started quivering. "Is Ligh' ever comin' home, Ma'su-chan?"
Matsuda flinched, blinked hard, and told himself to get a grip.
"Can'…can' tell you that, Misa-Misa. Ai…would kill me…"
He heard her sigh, glasses and bottles clinking as liquids flowed. Why was he supposed to keep Light's death a secret anyway? Why from his girlfriend of all people, this woman who cared for him more than anything else in the world?
A dainty glass appeared in his eyesight.
"Thanks." He groped for the tiny stem and stared at the drink. It was a light pink, a plump red cherry sitting at the bottom of the glass. Matsuda glanced over at Misa, precariously trying to seat herself without spilling her drink. There was no fruit or cherry or decoration of any kind in her glass. His throat swelled, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut again. Even totally drunk, the girl still remembered his fondness for fruit.
What am I doing? I can't keep this from her!
Without thinking, he said, "Misa?"
"Hnn?"
"You're righ'…abou' Ligh'…somethin' did happen…"
"Tell me." He heard the tremors in her voice.
"One day, we all wen' down to this warehouse on a mission from L. But Ligh'…Ligh' got shot. Shot full of holes. He's dead now…s' my fault…"
It was quiet for a long time.
"Ligh'…Ligh' is dead?"
Matsuda looked over to see the tears starting to come, her little cocktail glass shattering against the floor. The drink had been a dark red, like her wine – maybe she hadn't bothered to make herself an actual cocktail – and when it spread on the floor and spattered onto her legs, it looked just like the bloodstains he was trying so hard to run from.
A/N: Hi all! I was tired of feeling like a loser for having only one story to my puny little name. So I'm writing another. Well, clearly, it's not a story with a plot and all that, just a bunch of scenes based around some one-word writing prompts I found.
Sorry for starting off with this one, what with Matsu and Misa slur-talking the whole time because they're...well..drunk. I promise, they're not all like that... I did this on purpose, however, to kind of indicate that it's mostly Matsu-centric. I'm going to try to keep the other Task Force members in here because that's the whole point of this story, but sorry if it's too much Matsuda; I just love that dork so much!
Random note: This story collection whatever-you-wanna-call-it actually came about because I was reading Volume 13 of DN and saw the part about "Not being allowed to tell Misa of Light's death, but someone like Matsuda probably let it slip." And then I realized that in my last J.A.M chapter, Ide asked Matsuda about Misa as though it was common knowledge that she knew already. Which she didn't. Oops. So I need to go fix that.
But then I decided to write out just how Matsu "let it slip." And then I figured I should do a series on something like this. So yeah..overly-drawn out explanation done now.