"Break yoself, foo."
- Waterblight Ganon
The scene of Misa's death was also the scene of her terrible rebirth. L was huddled in a swivel chair with a worn down old notebook wrapped in a coffee-stained dust cover propped in his knees. Misa was standing across from him holding her hands on her hips on a petite and sassy way while a single hanging light swayed over her head like a slow pendulum. The minimalist lighting combined with her mascara-laden, fishnet-swathed fashion sense blurred the boundaries of film noir and goth punk.
Misa was being questioned on everything she knew about the rash of murders sweeping through Japan. Every question L asked her was quickly answered with the likes of "Nuh-uh," "Nope," "Try again, bozo," "Up yours, creep," or "I'll never betray Kira." Each time Misa answered, L would enter a state of intense concentration where he scribbled something into his papers while viciously eating potato chips. He'd spin around in his chair during the moments he seemed to reach some sort of epiphany.
"And this Death Note that you speak of, if you…" L began to question.
"I didn't say anything about a Death Note," Misa stubbornly interrupted.
"Yes, of course," L nodded in agreement. "But if you did have a Death Note, wouldn't writing someone's name in it sentence them to death?"
Misa's blood suddenly chilled.
"How do you know that?"
L flicked his thumb into the corner of his notebook's paper dust cover, making the cover fall to the floor and reveal had been holding a Death Note the entire time.
"Because I possess one."
He turned his arms so the open book faced her, letting her see he had been slowly writing the name AMANE MISA the whole time he was questioning her.
Misa rolled a 10 for Anxiety Attack. Her chest cavity rolled a 20 for "Get Impaled on a Giant Bone Spear Wielded by a Shadowy Assassin." The unnatural weapon plunged through her spine and burst out of the left side of her sternum. A pale arm firmly held the end of the spear and kept Misa standing in place like a pigtailed shish kabob as she started her death throes.
Misa struggled to glance over her shoulder as her head quivered in shock. Every tiny movement was pure agony as ancient bone fragments shredded deeper into the walls of her heart. Blood seeped down her mouth in a not-so-minor lipstick mishap. A crimson waterfall cascaded over the ridges of her collarbone as her black blouse was stained with a ruby sheen.
Misa gasped in confusion when she saw just what was standing behind her. Her own Shinigami was the one who had planted the spear. A second ago, Rem wasn't there. Now she was skewering Misa with a 6-foot-long sharpened femur.
"I'm sorry, Misa. We all have to follow the rules," Rem cryptically apologized.
Misa painfully twisted her head back toward L, her eyes filling with terror.
"What… is this…?" she choked through her blood.
"Punitive damages, my dear," L said, quietly munching another potato chip as an aside.
Rem yanked the tool of mutilation out just as quickly as it went in. Misa stumbled two steps forward and crumpled to the ground.
L hopped out of his seat with the Death Note in one hand and a quill made from a raven feather in the other. Misa saw his black outline kneeling beside her as her eyes struggled to stay open and her vision fell dark.
"And now to collect on the judgment."
L pressed the pen into her sternum so he could draw the last ounce of blood from her ruptured but still-beating heart. He used the warm red ink to enter her name in the Death Note a second time, only now with the characters scribbled in reverse. The whole time he worked, he never once gloated "Ha ha, I win" or showed any sign of spite. Everything was strictly part of the investigation to him.
Misa's life faded before he finished rewriting her name. He slammed the book shut and stood back on his feet as soon as he was done.
"You may have a Death Note, but I'll never agree with how you're using it," Rem said to L with scathing coldness. "This violates everything concerning the laws of death."
"The way Light Yagami uses it violates the laws of death. We're just balancing the karma system again," L answered carelessly.
"And you think this will put an end to his killings? This treachery?" Rem asked with distrust and regret.
"I'm positive it will," L said. "We have the murder weapon and plenty of motives. All we need is a witness."
Misa's corpse began to murmur on the floor. She rose back to her feet in a grim stupor, her movements void of any personality or charm. Her skin was ice blue from blood loss. Her head limply dangled forward from the top of her neck, keeping her colorless eyes hidden under the darkness of her blonde bangs. She stood with her arms lifelessly hanging at her sides and her ankles clumsily turned inward. Her only back talk now was a small raspy gurgling sound.
L had something important to ask Misa. He knew exactly what her answer would be—the only thing it could be now that her free will was gone and there was nothing but a corrupted shade of herself piloting her flesh—but he always strove to keep things official. He wanted to hear her response for himself.
"Now that you're bound to the book, you really only have two choices," L said stoically. "I can keep your soul trapped for all eternity in that decaying compost heap you call a body if you still insist on protecting Kira. But if you comply with my investigation, maybe I could let you go on good behavior. I suggest you choose quickly. Soon you'll be a rotten girl in more ways than just your attitude."
Misa's blood-spattered lips parted while her head remained tilted toward the ground. A lifeless voice crawled up from her throat.
"I'll tell you anything you'd like to know, Master."
Author's note: I had to stop playing Kirby for a couple of hours so I could write this.