A.N- When I was planning the chapters to this, I was reading the 7th manga again and noticed a lot about how Light reveals all the plot twists. In the spirit of things, I'll give it a go in this story. (Not to give spoilers away, but there are a few in this story. It won't follow canon completely.) I won't make them nearly as good, but they won't show up for a little while yet.

Helpful criticism is much loved.


Forgotten Eden

My Japanese gets a little rusty whenever I've been away for a while. I didn't have either of my parents gift of languages, it seemed. I could get by, and that's all I really needed. Besides, I had traveled between airports all my life so if I didn't know my way through Tokyo's by now then it was a matter worthy of concern. In busier conditions than this too, Tokyo had dozens of flights every hour and yet the practically deserted deport side made me think my flight was the first to come through all day. Not that I minded or anything.

Once again it was like I was making a new start, almost like I was seventeen again, with my few possessions in my hand luggage, not a giant suitcase, and an address stored in my phone rather than on a scrap piece of paper this time. Misa's address. Misa got herself an apartment she described extensively in her emails… it sounded nice. But I was still afraid for her. Apartments were expensive, and small, and I hadn't been there to help her choose a good one. For all I knew, she might have unwittingly gotten herself to a load of debt. For all my glamorizing of the city, Tokyo was full of the same kinds of people as anywhere else.

People you had to watch without letting them know you were.

Unease is a terrible feeling, one I couldn't shake off at the moment my plane landed with an ungraceful bump on the runway. No, it was before I even left New York. I knew this place, both its day and night faces, and I shouldn't have felt seventeen again, sent off into the unknown at the mercy of a carnivorous city. How much can a city change in four months? How much can the world warp when you've been wrapped up in a tiny sphere only to catch glimpses of it all from tiny screens and the radio antenna if you angled it right, like the world outside didn't even exist and was entirely fictional. Who can judge anything by that? Was Japan really consumed and shaped with fear? From what I gathered, Kira had been reigning judgment and destruction on people, killing without hesitation via supernatural means.

Yes, people genuinely believed in that crap.

People will speculate over anything. You'd think a supernatural entity wouldn't distinguish between the saints and the sinners, people would die regardless. It makes more sense to assume this is just a nationwide scheme to get people to behave themselves and to discourage crime. If the kings, presidents, ministers and every emperor sat together to organize this, kudos to them, they did a fine job. I'll sit out and watch until it spirals out of control, the people revolt and demand real justice. People were dying after all.

The hush-hush side of me, you know, that side which contains your REAL thoughts you just know you're not suppose to say out loud, just sighs and reminds me that people die every day, and no, it's never fair, so quit your moping and get on with things until it's your turn.

First things first, check into a hotel. There will always been an odd bed spare somewhere in a city as vast as this. Money is no issue, I'm not a frivolous spender and I've been saving up for exactly this. Text Misa, just to let her know I arrived. I'm exhausted, so I'll need sleep, lots of sleep. Drink lots of water. Then, first thing in the morning: call Misa. Or at least leave a message and have her call me back. She'll probably be so busy though. Her emails got shorter and shorter because she was simply so tired by the time she got around to writing to me. She always apologized for this, no matter how many times I told her I understood. I was the same anyway, especially when I didn't even have evenings to myself because of some fancy party or show. At least we were keeping in touch.

I wonder… I know I shouldn't… it's just a feeling… will she be happy to see me?

"Coco!" cried an unforgettable voice. I promptly dropped my hand luggage to the floor in order to properly hug my best friend, who flew into my arms with enough force to wind me!

"Misa!" I cried back, in that way women do, in a frequency only known to dogs. "Oh Misa, what a lovely surprise, you came to meet me!"

"Coco, Coco, what have you done to your hair!"

I burst into laughter, especially when she ran her hair through my scruffy pixie cut as though bewildered by it. Then again, last she saw, my hair was the same length of hers. Hers had grown, and mine had "got chopped off for the runway. But it'll grow back, never fear."

I hold her at arms length to do a swift check. Her hair is longer, that's for sure, and she seems taller, though it might be the ridiculous platforms she's wearing. (Safer than heels, though.) She's wearing a little makeup but nothing excessive so it looks pretty natural. I was half expecting her to go the full Goth, dyed hair and thick makeup everywhere, like the American girls do it. It suits them though… with Misa, you can't really be sure. She's gorgeous without it, and whilst her clothes are incredibly flattering to her small physic, it's like her head contrasts her body, like she doesn't know which look to go for. Yet she looks pretty healthy. She's not obviously gained or, thankfully, lost any weight since I last saw her.

No, I've just been away too long and not seen her properly. Her look is Lolita, not Goth. The most unnatural thing about her is the giant smile across her face. It must just be me, but when I left Misa all her smiles were either coaxed out of her, or forced so she didn't disappoint me. This time, though, she was just beaming.

"Shocking!" Misa shook her head. "You have such lovely dark hair. You shouldn't be cutting any of it off!"

I don't; my hair is thin, dry and falling out from repetitive straightening, curling gelling, you name it my hair has seen it. It's just so pointless to try and reason with a comment like that, so I smile at the compliment, because it's nice of her to say, and we head out.

With my best friend by my side, I forget entirely whatever it was I had been concerned about. The night in Tokyo is something a visitor will find themselves enticed by, all the exotic lights and shapes which could fool you into thinking you've moved worlds, dimensions, and shadows were walls you would walk through and doors just opened for you. Lights, so many lights! We were passing through the world but not taking part in it, not tonight, for tonight was our night off. Any other night we could go out to all the clubs and all the bars and all the parks. Any other night we could come out, and I would show Misa all the places she hadn't been yet, places you needed an invitation in order to find. The safe ones, that is. There were some places I would never take Misa.

"I've just got to show you my place, come on!" Misa demanded, linking my arm in hers, and so I followed with breaths heavy in anticipation. The moment of truth…

Her apartment wasn't too shabby, actually. She'd had the sense of mind to choose a safe location with transport within accessible distance, so what did it matter what color the walls were?

"Misa does intend to paint it, you know." She said, giggling at me. Honey walls and brown carpet just struck me as a little odd, is all. Not her colors. Cozy, mind. Her kitchen was suitably sized and her lounge room contained a small dining table, two small chairs, a television in the corner and a couch positioned so that she'd still have a good view of outside through a decent sized window. She showed me her bedroom next, substantial, obviously, with a stool, desk and laptop in one corner, and… a shrine to her parents in the other.

I think my heart sank when I saw that, dropping like stones into an empty swimming pool, forced right into the pit of my stomach. She had candles either side of her favorite picture of them all together, two smiling adults with a pre-pubescent Misa between them, clutching their hands like swing ropes. I assume the more recent pictures were stored in the draws of the table it rested on, but I wasn't going to check.

She was still talking to me from the kitchen as she made drinks, not really paying attention, so I decided not to bring matters up. She's just… honoring their memory. If this is how she chooses to cope I'm not going to stop her.

When I closed her bedroom door she handed me a cup of coffee and touched it to her glass of wine in a toast gesture.

"Glad to have you here." She said. "I'll make us some supper if you're interested." Unable to argue with her, I followed her back into the kitchen to help. She gave me a chuffed glance, the type that manages to warm you right through, and began chatting.

"Misa spent almost a whole afternoon looking around these streets for soup ingredients since I know you won't eat much else. I will be super offended if you don't eat THIS though, this is Misa's specialty!"

Shit, I hope she didn't see me cringe. Her adopted third person habit had taken a bit of getting used to. Actually, I hated it. She sounded… bizarre, like an excited ten year old or something, and not like a twenty year old woman at all. Problem was, as much as I really wanted to put a stop to it, she only did it when she was happy or trying to put on a brave face. It was something she got from her only right thing to do was to go along with it, at least, for now.

Fucks sake, Naoko, her parents haven't been dead a year yet. What was I damn expecting?

"Um…" oh think you stupid brain! "I can't wait, Misa."

"Misa is a great chef." She chuckled, "Oh, and Coco, it's all vegetables and water, so you don't need to worry about a thing."

No noodles in sight, as she promised. We sat side by side at her tiny table, the television off, filling any silence by slurping on soup, followed by childish giggling fits. "Soup's so good you got it all over your face, Coco!"

"Wouldn't have anything to do with you nudging me, would it?" So I nudged her back and she slopped it all down her chin.

It was so sweet of her to make soup with my allergies in mind. My diet was limited to some fruits and mostly vegetables now. I had a nasty feeling our conversation would steer towards diets or the like, something I really didn't want to think about. Ever. Misa just lead me to do things I wouldn't normally do. Like, eat. I didn't eat a great deal… at all, really. Not if I could help it. I don't, and I won't argue the matter. She tried to serve me a desert but I had to refuse at that point. Thankfully she didn't press the matter, and instead sat beside me, curled up on the couch, cushions out the way.

"Coco, do I have a lot to tell you!" and she was overjoyed. "I know I told you before, but did you hear? That murderer is dead!"

She didn't need names for me to know who she meant, and she had mentioned through an email the night it happened. Her parents' murderer had died in February. Heart attack, but Misa said "Kira attack!"

"Yes, you… you did say. You really think Kira did it?" I ask, realizing by the look of surprise on her face that I may have just said something stupid.

"Misa knows Kira did it!" she punches the air like it's some kind of victory. "Keep up, Coco! I know you've been away a while, but you know who Kira is, don't you?"

She says Kira like it's a name I ought to recognize, like hers, or some famous persons, or even a world known deity. "Yeah." I shrug. "We go for taiyaki, like, all the time. Nice guy… bit of a square though."

She slaps my arm playfully.

"Well if you do ever go out for taiyaki, make sure you thank him!" She grins from ear to ear. "I got something else to tell you, sis. Misa's got a boyfriend!"

"WHAT?"

She clutches her ears dramatically. "Chill out, Coco! You heard me just fine! Misa's got a boyfriend."

"WHEN-! Um, sorry… when did this happen?"

"Three days ago!"

That's… that's not too bad then. "And… you've known him for how long?"

"Three days."

That is bad then! I thought I told her not to date guys the same moment she meets them. She's not a thirteen year old girl safe in school; she's at an age where she could be dating total weirdos!

She can read my mind. She gives me a mischievous but challenging smile behind the fragmented wine glass. "You're not going to tell me that's bad, are you? Miss Takahashi?"

I splutter into my drink. Naoko, you tell that girl too much. Yes, she and several tabloids knew about my numerous exploits, and by that I mean I had no problem slipping into beds after evening and slipping out before morning. That was all in my past, long before I even met Misa. I had only told her about my past so that she was educated about relationships and sex and the like, so should she get herself a boyfriend, she would know what protective measures to take.

I had told the tabloids because I would be damned if they were going to make my virtue some kind of aspiration for young women. 'Check out successful model Naoko! Her organs might be shutting down but she's no slag!'

"No, Misa, I'm not. But please be careful. Some people can just be a bit odd, you know? Celebrities relationships never hold out, and you need be sure, if you're going to date a fan that he isn't a complete psychopath."

Her eyes glaze over darkly and she faces away from me, so I can't tell whenever she's gravely dismissed what I'm saying or whenever she's met such a fan and is remembering it. I have, many times, when I was younger than Misa is now. It can be quite scary.

"He isn't. He really isn't. Do you believe in love at first sight?" Misa asked, turning her head very suddenly so that it startled me, although not as much as the question itself. "Do you think you can just spot someone across the room, or a street, and just, you know, know they're for you?"

Soul mates? Misa, don't make me laugh. Such a romanticized, dramatized concept made off to be something… something…

Something true, I guess.

"No… not really, Misa." I shrug dismissively, "Surely it's not love until you can go on holiday together and not hate each other by the end of it."

She smiles at me, "Alright, be that way. You'll see when you find your own true love what I mean."

That's when I laugh because I know for sure that that's not going to happen. Ever. I'm beyond the hollow emptiness those words primarily bring so when I smile back at her, it is a fully, genuine, confident smile.

"I'd like to meet this young man then-! Oh, Misa, tell me he's not some old guy!"

She claps her hands, "Ha ha! No way! Misa wouldn't date some old guy. Ew no."

We finally decided sleep was in order at around two in the morning. We had only made it up that late because Misa's cupboards were fully prepared with caffeine in several forms and we'd managed to drink our way through most of them.

Neither of us had qualms about sharing a bed- we'd done it dozens of times before. I stayed around her house often enough after we first met during my Osaka travels. I had met her parents properly through those nights I slept over, who entertained us with hot chocolate and marshmallows and made Misa talk about her day and what we'd been up to. They made us separate beds on the bedroom floor as though we were pretend campers, but we were still technically beside each other. We giggled about it the whole time.

And then…

After her parents death she was too distraught to sleep alone, so I spent many nights with her, and at first I made a bed on the floor beside her by the door so at least she might feel a bit better, but after she climbed in beside me one too many times, I decided to try and help her get some decent rest in a comfortable bed. She slept with her face pressed into my neck and would quietly cry herself to sleep.

I don't miss those months. I am terrible at comforting people since the only things I can think to say are the ones no one wants to hear. The best I could do was hold my tongue and just be there, yet I never felt it helped her.

I turned away so I had my back to her, but right before she says goodnight she slips an arm over me, as though she's the one comforting me this time. In a way she is. She knew I was nervous even if neither of us could place the reason why. Tomorrow I would find myself a good hotel to spend a few nights in and spend some time looking for a short term rent. Misa had offered to let me stay a few more nights with her, but I adamantly turned them down. This new found independence had been amazingly good for her, the last thing she needed on the brink of her career was my dead weight to take care of. I know I'm very controlling, and can be horribly bossy. I won't put her through it.

If she had needed me to stay, I would not have hesitated for a moment. Only she didn't seem to need me and there was a horrible twisting sensation in my heart. Like the feeling when you're standing on the edge of a steep drop and you're losing your balance, as though the slightest gust of wind could come at any moment and throw you over, and the uncertainty of not knowing when it was going to come, if you were going to fall.

It was Misa's arm holding me back.


A.N- This chapter seems long enough, so I'll cut it here. I'm not great with dialogue so I expect there will be a few areas I could improve. If you have any feedback, please review! Thanks!