(edited 05/03/2021)

disclaimer : Death Note doesn't belong to me!

May 19th, 2003.

The door was open.

Just barely, a thin crack leading to the inside of her home, not enough so that people walking down the street would notice.

"Anybody home?" It thankfully fitted with the story she barely had time to report a few minutes earlier - broken windows, open door and lights she knew weren't operating when she left being used. Two out of three of those things now matched, she'd just have to break a window or something before the cops arrived.

She's not sure why she entered the house, it was stupid - something Misa prided herself on not being. (wasn't that parent-killer acquitted in the original storyline?)

(bile rises up in her throat when she pictures the original being denied justice right after being denied her parents-)

(she still doesn't like the original but...she does owe the girl one)

Calling the emergency line while in her car - parked on the side of the road two houses away, was one thing. Entering the building was another, her stupid flip phone had even died on her while still in call. The battery wasn't even dead yet, ugh technology.

Never been her friend that one. She couldn't wait to reach 2010 - the year where Maria had kicked the bucket, it would make things so much easier.

There was the sound of pans hitting the floor - she recognized the sound easily because of the frequent attempts her father made at trying to either help his wife in the kitchen or surprise said woman for a romantic evening.

Her mother and her had both agreed that to be romanced by her father should include movies and flowers and nights out, not his attempts at cooking.

The large figure hidden by layers of black clothing that came out of her kitchen just as she stepped in, broke her from her pleasant musings. There was a pause where they both took each other in, a pause where she stopped breathing and -

- and oh. Oh God. (there's a barrel pointing in her direction and he's(she?) nothing but a blur of black-)

Misa has the Shinigami eyes, her visual acuity is far above perfection. She sees the way his hair must be rather thick and curly underneath the black sock by the way the material shifts, how the sclera of his eyes are slightly tinted red in the corners and how his pupils are dilated so you can barely make out the blue around them, there's pale scarring around his left eye, an old burn perhaps -

(Maria doesn't get the time to scream)

"I won't hurt you or call the police please -" The gun is cold against her temple, the hand bruising her arm as it tugs her deeper into the house.

"Stay quiet," his voice is nothing more than a hiss, he's panicking. "Get me everything of value, no funny business!" She nods, hands shaking - she's not sure where her acting begins and where reality ends.

"Th-there's some money beneath the sink in the-the kitchen," pitiful tears reach her eyes and she makes sure to stutter when she says the words.

"Go get it! Now!" She was pushed roughly, forced to catch herself on the counter's edge. She quickly got the money from the cabinet leading to the sink's plumbing.

"Just that?! I don't believe you!" Her mouth tightened and her eyes sharpened like the blade hidden in her boot, breaking the frightened girl act for half a second. The man doesn't notice.

"The jewelry's upstairs!" The hand that held the gun twitched, without the man even noticing the slight tremble of his limb. Shit.

Before he could fully raise the gun from it's position next to his side, the barrel pointing to the floor, she kicked it. Hard enough for the weapon to be sent flying away, in his inebriated state the grip he had on it had been weak at best.

"Stupid bitch!" He roared, eyes flickering from the gun to her. His hand shot out clumsily to try and backhand her. He missed without her having to even move further away than a step back, she hit the man with twice as much force as he had used trying on her. He hit the counter with a loud crash, blinking a few times without understanding.

She jumped towards the gun, the handle leaving her palms tingling when she got ahold of it.

"Ugh...fucking hell." She kicked with no real purpose, her heel landing a solid hit to his stomach. The wheezing sound that left him thrilled her, his form sunk lower until he was looking up at her. That well over 6ft of muscles looking up at her.

(for a brief second she saw herself shooting him straight in the head)

(then, she saw herself cackling)

She snarls when he tries to get up, her foot stomping down on his ankle.

He didn't scream then, only when he saw her eyes pool with blood and gold did he do so.

"Wh-what the fuck?!" She stopped herself from stomping yet another time on his lower leg and instead leaned closer. His getup left nothing to be seen besides a pale strip of skin around his eyes and his hands. She licked her lips, inhuman eyes meeting his with sick enjoyment when she saw him struggle to breathe.

The eyes not working because of so much fabric covering his face, she frowned before tugging the sock (yuck!) upwards. His numbers told her he had much left to live, the thought enraged her. She wanted him gone, to cut his life short like he had once did with her parents in another life.

"Tell me mister...John McCarty? American then!" she giggled, poison dripping from her voice. "Have you ever killed someone? Because I haven't, but that very well change depending on your answer."

"No, no I swear!" She blinked when the man began crying, shaking his head so harshly it hit the door of the cabinet he was pressing himself against, trying to escape her.

"Liar."

"No! No please!" She batted her eyelashes almost sweetly, the hand holding the gun thoughtfully making the barrel tapp against the ceramic counter at a slow pace. The floating numbers drop to the same rhythm.

"I don't like liars mister John, but I do like this floor..." her mom had cleaned the wooden surface just a few days earlier too.

"So what we are going to do is this," lights flashed against the window closest to them and sirens were heard. "A little late aren't they? What was I saying...ah right! You'll admit to whatever it is you've done to those guys." She gestured to the door the man had slammed closed earlier.

"Police! Open now!"

"They'll kill me!" He cried some more, face twisting in the most ugly way possible.

"They might yes," she shrugged, eyes resembling ice as she whispered the next words carefully, "If you don't I can guarantee you I will kill you. I'm not good at playing nice like the kind officers over there."

(the eyes Shinigami have are all the same, powerful and dead)

(those same eyes on humans are probably more monstrous, more alive)

Just as the door was forced open, tears fell from her eyes and Misa rubbed her cheeks raw as she straightened up. Her whole body was overcome by tremors, the gun now pointed at the man with her grip on it so very wrong.

"Pl-please you need to help me!" She cried out, risking a glance at the officers breaking in her home. The skin of her arm was bright red, her palms scrapped from when that human trash of a man had thrown her against the counter.

"Girl you need to hand me the gun," an officer calmly explained and she shook her head wildly, a terrified kid if they'd ever seen one.

"He-he was going to hurt me!" She still allowed the weapon to be taken away, following the man who was tasked with getting her away from the house, they sat on the porch side to side which got her the perfect view of the man being harshly shoved into the police vehicle.

Neighbors looked at the poor little girl from the windows, frightened that something so horrible could happen in the usually calm neighborhood.

"I-I know you might still be in shock, but I need to ask you a few questions... it can wait if you want!" Was this man even out of the Academy?

"It's fine I don't mind," The fact that she was the one reassuring him was slightly disturbing when she thought about it and he quickly noted down her recollection of the events, stammering out reassurances when a fresh batch of tears came to her eyes.

It was sweet.

"No relatives you could stay with until your parents are back?" She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself to provide some heat, the cold wind making the baby hair on the back of her neck raise.

"My parents don't have any family they still talk to," she admitted before asking if she could instead stay with her best friend instead. The man blushed when she practically jumped into his arms as he nodded before getting out a cellphone from his pocket.

To say Nami panicked when she explained what had happened was an understatement. The girl the proceeded to invade the crime scene in her pink pajamas, face flushed from running. The shocked police officers remaining watched as the blonde was promptly dragged into a hug, Nami's grip light and careful with the bruises.

Misa melted into the hug without a second thought, arms winding tightly around her friend.

"Girls!" Mrs. Matsuo was the next to show up, car rolling down the street at a probably illegal pace. The officers once again choked when the woman tumbled out in a barely anything at all, a cotton nightgown under a vest of some sort. Said vest was thrown over her naked shoulders when Nami's mom caught sight of her shivering form and naked shoulders.

"Surely you've kept the girl here long enough for her to go," there was hardly any chance of them arguing with that, especially not with the woman looking like she was planning their gruesome death. "Come on dear, we still have some of that tea you like so much."

"Yes - " Greenish eyes go from the officer closest to her to her house. "Can I go get some stuff? Just money and clothes." The man's hair that falls just over his eyes shift when he nods ever so slowly. "Thanks, I'll be out in a minute."

"We'll be out of here in less than an hour sweetheart, if you want to come back tomorrow that is." A female officer informs as she walks up the stairs of her home, eyeing Nami who was hanging off her arm, she thanks the woman with her most genuine smile.

Just before she can seat on the car's back seat, the man from earlier - the one who'd been so kind and sweet with her, stops them with an embarrassed expression. "I forgot to get your number earlier!"

Nami looks like she might drag herself out of the car and slap the man, he seems to realize this. "No, that's not what I-!" A man sipping on his coffee a few steps away snorts, "I need your number for the form, in case of future of legal procedures."

"Oh," she blinks. "I thought you would use the one linked to the house, but it does makes sense. Here." She quickly scribbles down the number of both hers and her parents' cellphones.

"Thank you for earlier, for being so understanding." For not pushing her, even if the shaken girl had mostly been an act.

She appreciated the kindness, very much so.

"I..." he did not flush or stammer like she expected him to. Instead he didn't seem to understand her gratitude, they needed more people like him in the justice system. (less people like her) "That's my job."

"It was kind, and sweet." She quirked a smile, dimples flashing, "You should accept some appreciation once in awhile officer."

(oh officer, officer)

"Touta Matsuda." He offered, rubbing the back of his neck. Misa didn't skip a beat, offering him a good night before getting into the car.

The ride is mostly silent - short as it is, the two girls on the backseat staying as close to each other as possible. Mrs. Matsuo conveniently forgot to ask for the girls to wear their seatbelts for the first time in all her years of having children. Hm...she should call her eldest son soon, it's been so long since that brat has been home.

Since her parents wouldn't manage to catch the next flight until the next day anyway, they had begrudgingly agreed to stay in Osaka for the rest of trip when she begged them to do so on the phone - you guys can wait another 24 hours until your intended flight!

She just had to wait and see if her mother would try to steal a car and make the almost seven hours drive.

That...could've gone much worse than it did. Her eyelids became more heavy as Nami's fingers stroked through damp blonde locks, sleep came easily for what seemed the first time in forever.

She would worry about Matsuda, the death note and every shitty thing that came with it tomorrow.