Light Yagami is dead, and it feels like a piece of Misa's soul left with him.
She hasn't left her bed in days, there's just no reason to. Not when she knows he won't be there and he isn't a call away, either. There's no point in trying to live her life anymore now that her literal light in the darkness is gone.
She stops staring at her ceiling for a moment to raise her left hand up above her face and look at it. Her pale fingers seem slimmer than usual, which is entirely possible since she hasn't eaten since she heard the news about Light.
Misa clenches and unclenches her firsts, staring at her ring finger. She'd hoped that one day, it wouldn't be bare. She rests her hands on her chest and laces her own fingers together, pretending her right hand is Light's. It's a stupid thing to do and it makes her feel pathetic, but if she closes her eyes and tries hard enough, she might be able to pretend he's there.
Funny. She can't remember what his hand feels like in hers.
Her phone jingles and she reaches for it, flipping it open and sighing when she sees another message from Matsuda. He's been texting her nonstop, asking if she's okay and if he can bring her groceries and if she wants company. She hasn't answered a single text and knows it's a matter of time before his nerves get to his head and he finds a way into her apartment to make sure she hasn't died or something.
Misa opens the drawer in her bedside table and drops her phone in, then slams it shut, too lazy to actually turn her ringer off. Part of her hopes Matsuda shows up sooner rather than later so she doesn't think herself to death, but she also doesn't know how she'd face him.
Light's side of the bed is cold, but that isn't anything new. He'd spend so many late nights at task force headquarters or in his office, and every now and then she'd find him asleep at his desk. Misa not going to bed alone was a rare occurrence, and she finds herself wishing she'd scolded him a little more for staying up so late.
She did that a lot when he was alive. Scolded him. For not spending enough time with her, for talking to other girls, for being practically married to his job, and not kissing her when he got home from work. There were a few times where she didn't kiss him first, just to see what she did, and she was shocked when he didn't say a word and just made his way to his office.
Misa tries desperately to remember what Light's lips felt like against hers. She knows they were rough and chapped because she'd watch him bite them when he was concentrating hard on something, but she can't remember how they feel. If they were warm, or cold like the rest of him. If he was a harsh kisser or a gentle one. If, when he kissed her, she could feel his love for her.
...when was the last time they kissed?
He's been dead for a week. There's no way she's forgetting him this fast. It's not possible
But then, there's a lot Misa doesn't remember. Bits and pieces of conversations she knows were important to her. Names and faces and people and places. A best friend. A lover.
What has she been doing these last four years other than modeling, singing, and acting? Those memories are clear as day in her head. She remembers every fan she's signed an autograph for, every article of clothing she's worn for a photoshoot, and every line she's spoken in front of a camera. Her work life seems untouched. But she can't for the life of her remember anything that happened in task force headquarters.
Had they done something to her? That stuff only happens in movies, right? There's no way they could have messed with her memories. Besides, Light trusted her. Loved her. He wouldn't have let them hurt her.
There's a moment where it crosses her mind that she should see a therapist, and she laughs out loud at the thought. She'd be recognized, there's no doubt about it, and then she'd be on the cover of a tabloid in the waiting room of a therapist's office.
"Of course I can't see a therapist. Can you imagine what would happen if someone saw me there?" Misa says to no one, as if she's responding to a suggestion. "I mean, it wouldn't be as bad as if I was caught in a scandal or something. But fans might worry about me. Or think I'm a freak or something. It's not worth it."
Misa finds that it's strangely nice filling the silence, even if there isn't anyone to bounce her thoughts off of, so she keeps talking.
"I guess I could wear big sunglasses and a hat, but I think I'd still get noticed since I stand out so much in a crowd. I don't have any normal clothes. I guess I could borrow something of Light's, but all his clothes are so big on me. That, and he doesn't like it when I wear his clothes. Which I don't understand! What kind of boyfriend doesn't let his girlfriend wear his shirts to bed? There are guys that would kill for that. There are guys that would kill to see me like that! I swear, I could come to bed in lingerie and he wouldn't bat an eye."
Rambling is nice. She hasn't said a word in days, so her voice is a little odd sounding, but it's nice to hear herself speaking again. Misa sighs and covers her face with her hands before opening her mouth to speak, and her next words chill her to her core.
"Rem, do you think he really loved me?"
She can't figure out what it means. She said it herself, but Misa doesn't know who Rem is. She's never met a "Rem" in her life.
That, and she just questioned Light's love for her. She's going crazy, she has to be. She's making up names and asking silly questions and saying things that don't make sense. The loneliness is making her crazy.
Why would she ask that? Why would she think Light doesn't love her? He told her he loved her all the time. Sure, she always said it first, but… would he have kept her around if he didn't care for her? That's not like him. Light was too perfect for that.
Perfect. It feels odd to describe him as perfect. Misa knows he was: he was attractive, smart, had his own sense of humor, he was kind to her… he cared for her. He loved her. Definitely. Light Yagami was in love with Misa Amane. That was real.
No. No, it wasn't.
And she can't fucking remember why she fell in love with him.
He was awful to her. Light lied to her and he used her and Misa knew this, but she couldn't bring herself to give a fuck because she loves him. But why? What did he have that she wanted? Why did she idolize him like that? Why the fuck can't she remember the day they first met?
Love at first sight is supposed to be like that. She's supposed to remember that moment forever. Misa thinks so hard her head hurts, digging through years of pain and shrouded memories, but she can't remember the circumstances. Did she say hello first, or did he? Who caught the other's eye first? Were they in a cafe? At a grocery store?
Misa bolts upright and tangles her fingers in her hair to ground herself. Why can't she remember this? Why didn't Light love her? Did hurt him and forget it? Why did she love Light? Is there something about him she can't remember?
That last one is true. There's a lot about Light she doesn't remember. And she won't be making new memories ever again.
Misa feels sick, so she gets up and runs to her kitchen on wobbly legs to get herself some water. She takes a bottle from the fridge and downs it in seconds, wanting to cry with relief when water washes down her parched throat. She starts begging herself not to cry, knowing her eyes will puff up and she'll look ugly and tired, but can't bring herself to care when she remembers no one is going to see her like this, anyway. Light's not coming home.
She shouldn't want him to come home.
Maybe he never physically hurt her. But he insulted her. Ignored her. Used her, she just doesn't remember what for. Misa sucks in a breath and lets out a sob, sinking to her knees as she remembers the way Light looked at her. It was never with love. She didn't know what that looked like.
Maybe she did at one point. Maybe he loved her, once. Maybe this is his fault. Maybe she deserves this.
She just wishes she could remember why.