Prompt: Watermelons (and Matsuda). This was the fic I wrote for razzberridust on LJ as a Secret Santa trade-off.
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or the characters in them. I do, however, own the OC Suika. I do not, unfortunately, have a watermelon hair clip, and I do not, fortunately, have a cat named Kira.
You take each step with care nowadays, knowing that death could be one awkward step, one wrongly-turned corner, one missed bus stop away. And you know it's all because of Kira. Living in fear isn't exactly the preferable option, but you can't get your mind off of it. "What am I doing wrong?" you think. You don't want to take Kira's side, but the dropped crime rate and, for lack of better word, safer world for innocent people has you questioning if Kira is really evil. But you can't turn your back on Aizawa, and Ide, and Mogi, and of course Light. You'd rather be fearful and surrounded by those who believe in what's right than alone and even then still afraid. So all you can do is wait for Kira to be brought to justice and hope that, along the way, your fate doesn't parallel the advocates who've stood up against him all these years.
But the whole ordeal is so confusing. Is Kira truly evil? The cop side of you doesn't seem to want to believe it, but criminals deserve to get punished, don't they? Certainly more than just a few years of jailtime, right? It doesn't help matters that everyone in the Task Force shoots you down the minute you suggest such a thing. "Kira is evil," they say. And yet they fail to see the other side of the situation. You don't like to think of yourself as a Kira-supporter, but sometimes you regret staying on the Task Force. Maybe Aizawa was right — maybe you need to settle down, get a girlfriend, have a family. But every time you ponder this, you start to think about the long-term and the what-ifs. Like, what if I don't come home one day? What if I'm killed by Kira? What happens then? You don't see a point in making such commitments until the whole case blows over. If it ever does.
And then you meet her. It's a chance encounter at a bar after listening in on another long snooze-fest of a meeting between Light and Takada. They never talk about anything interesting, nothing gets anywhere, and it's annoying knowing that you come home late every night to an empty apartment and the lack of a wife to give you sympathy. You shrug your jacket off, thank god 'cause it's so goddamn hot, and you see her. She doesn't look entirely Japanese at first. Wavy black hair that flips out in all directions is tied back loosely with a pink and black-polka-dot clip, leaving a few strands, dyed bright green, hanging over her face — and wait, are those freckles? It's hard to tell, the light is dim. She's wearing a leather jacket with a furry hood that's falling loosely from her shoulders, as if she knows it's too hot to wear it but she doesn't want to take it off just yet. You notice her indigo shorts & laced ankle boots and wonder what she'd doing here and who she's with. You begin to realize that there is absolutely no one with her. She chats in a lively high-pitched tone — reminding you of Misa — with the bartender, who shoots her a friendly smile and slides a cosmopolitan over the counter. Until now you've never believed in love at first sight, but you get one overall glance at her and practically melt from something other than the un-air-conditioned bar.
You strike up a conversation, tell her your name, leave out the profession for now, and ask her for hers. It's Suika, she says — watermelon. Appropriate, you both know, judging by the color scheme of her outfit. You order a light beer when she starts to go on about herself: she's a college senior studying both psychology and law, and that gives you some relief; she lives off-campus in her own apartment by the university — and it's Tokyo University, too!; she has two older brothers and a stepmother who, contrary to popular fairy-tale belief, treats her well. And you're just in awe of how interesting and wonderful she is. But then she mentions her cat named Kira. You freeze up almost instantly and knock back a nervous gulp of beer.
"So tell me a little about yourself," Suika says, gesturing with a wave of her hand like she's been doing for the past twenty minutes, and you realize that there's nothing special about you. People tell you that you have a nice complexion, and that you're awfully young to be working for the police, but there's nothing beyond the outside. An empty, hollow shell is all you seem to be.
"I have to admit that there's not much to know about me," you say with a nervous laugh uncomfortably attached to the end.
"Well," she says, thinking, actually interested to know, "what's your occupation, what do you do?"
And you don't want to full-out lie to her. If you want any chance with this girl, you know that a relationship based on lies is a horrible way to start out. But you know now that Suika must be a Kira-supporter, and for some reason you're okay with this. It's just the fact that you're supposed to be on the other side that worries you. So you just answer honestly, and hope she doesn't think you're bad for it.
"I work for the police," you say, waiting for the inevitable gasp, the apology, the awkward silence, the excuse that she has to be somewhere, the knowledge that you'll probably never see her again — but it doesn't come.
Instead, Suika lights up. "Are you serious?!" she exclaims, and you realize that it should have been the first thing you said. "That's amazing! I never would have guessed." She doesn't inquire about your side on the Kira case, and instead asks you about your experiences with law and the police, and you try to answer truthfully without revealing the investigation you're doing now. But it's hard to avoid, and she eventually pops the question.
"Are you pro or anti?"
You know what she means, but ask for clarification anyway. "I'm sorry?"
"Kira. Are you pro-Kira or anti-Kira?" Then she practically deflates in her seat, head down. "Oh, what am I thinking, you're a cop! You're obviously anti."
You hate to disappoint her — it's difficult, disappointing someone so lovely. "Actually," you say, "I have yet to take a side."
Suika lights up once again, seeming hopeful that you're at least not full-on anti-Kira. You talk more with her, telling her your whole opinion on the matter, and she listens at full attention, nodding every once in a while. You conveniently leave out that you're on the Task Force, but right now it doesn't seem to matter.
"You know what," she says when you finish, "I have to go, I've got an exam tomorrow to study for."
"Oh." And here comes the disappointment, the rejection, the goodbye that you'd hoped would never arrive. "Yeah. Sure."
"But I'm writing a paper for my Justice and Peace class, and I think you've got just the opinion I've been looking for. Phone?" It takes you a moment to realize what she's demanding, but you place your cell phone into her expectant hand, noticing her watermelon nail polish. After a few types of the keys she hands it back, puts something into her own phone, and says: "I'll call you and we can arrange a time and a place, okay?"
You just know you're blushing and give her an embarrassed smile. "Uh, yeah. Sounds cool."
Suika beams, her complexion looking evermore radiant and beautiful. "Great! Talk to you soon, Matsu." She gives you a small wave that seems miniscule compared to the other gestures she made while talking. You don't expect the kiss on the cheek she comes back to give you for good measure, and you feel your face flare up, chest pounding so hard now that it's almost painful. Is this what love feels like, or am I just having a heart attack? You scroll down to find her in your cell phone contacts — "Suika" followed by a "3" — and your blush deepens, and you can't wait to tell everyone at headquarters, and everything doesn't seem so terrible anymore.
Ratings and reviews are appreciated!~