And you will meet people

who are safer loved

from a distance

and dangerous to love up close.

Like the flames

you loved as a child.

Like the fire

that taught you pain.

Nikita Gill, Flame Truths

Misa lay on her couch staring at the ceiling, her phone lit up occasionally from beside her, briefly brightening the dark room before slowly dimming, over and over again. She watched the shadows grow and fade as it did, making monsters out of the shapes in her mind. She'd long stopped checking the notifications, she knew what they'd say.

Her entire breakdown had been caught on cell phone video and uploaded online almost immediately. Multiple angles showed Misa stumbling backwards in terror, screeching at an innocent fan and then being taken away.

The fan she snubbed was interviewed: he just wanted to support his favorite idol. Sympathy poured in for him. Online gossip blogs were flooded with comments about her behavior.

"She only treated him like that because he wasn't good-looking, she's so superficial!"

"Why act so bitchy? Is she on drugs now?"

"She's not even that hot she's getting old anyway."

Crazy. Over dramatic. Many speculated on whether or not she had been drinking and if she'd check into a private rehab soon.

The upside, if there was any, was that with all the hate mail and cruel comments she received, she couldn't tell who was her stalker and who wasn't. And she wasn't in the mood to weed through them all to find out.

She hadn't been called in for work in a few days and didn't expect to any time soon. Her agency was in damage control mode. So far their only method of taming the blaze was blaming her behavior on being overworked and that she was taking an "extended break for her health". Because of course, they wouldn't want the truth out there.

She felt completely alone. It was the type of all encompassing isolation that crept deep inside of her, to the bone, leaving her body feeling hollow. She was no stranger to that particular strain of misery. It brought her painfully back to the day her parents died, when she realized just how alone she was in the world.

For days she had little drive to do much beyond laying on her couch, every now and then she'd read a message board or two to torture herself and then go back to her lethargic moping. She wore the same oversized, holey T-shirt for the last 3 days, her hair was stuffed into a half-unraveled messy bun that would be a pain to detangle later. Nothing about her was up to her usual standards, she didn't have the energy to care.

She argued with herself on what happened that day. Maybe she did overreact, but how would anyone else have respond to that situation? She had been too overwhelmed to think clearly. The phone call. The rose. The months of messages, pictures...It was too much.

And then there was what happened afterwords.

"L, I didn't realize..." Naomi began to say, but Misa tuned her out, her eyes dead set on Ryuzaki.

"Why did she call you that?" Misa asked, as she did, she took an unconscious step backwards. "Do you know each other?"

Naomi looked down and away. Ryuzaki shifted uncomfortably.

She looked between the two of them and it made sense, clicking together in a glaringly obvious way. Oh.

"We were...partners when I worked overseas." Naomi explained.

But that wasn't it, not entirely. She could feel the tension, the atmosphere was thick and suddenly she didn't want to be there anymore. She wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

"I want to go home." She said quietly. "I'm really tired."

Ryuzaki dug for his phone. "I'll have Watari-"

"No." She said firmly, standing and grabbing for her purse, keeping her gaze averted from his. "I'll take a taxi or something."

"I can take her." Light said. She turned to see him standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, looking like an angel of mercy.

"Sounds good." She said quickly, heading past him out the door. "Let's go."

She didn't need to turn to see Ryuzaki's face to know that he would be angry. She wanted to make him mad. She felt hurt and stupid and it made her feel a tiny bit better knowing he'd be angrier with her. She didn't care.

She barely remembered the ride home with Light. He pulled his fancy little sports car to the back of the mall and she hopped in. Normally she might be impressed by it since it looked expensive, but that day she just felt grateful for the quick escape.

"If you ever need someone to talk to," He commented after a while, "I'm more than happy to listen." She leaned her head against the window, closing her eyes for a moment.

"I can't believe you're being so nice to me after how I acted today."

"What can I say, I'm a really great guy."

A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. She'd give him that much. She felt humiliated by how she behaved, how she tried begging him to take her away.

"Are you mad at that detective?" He asked curiously. She went very still in her seat, holding her breath. He must have sensed her unease, because he quickly spoke up again.

"Sorry!" He said putting a hand up, his eyes still concentrated on the road ahead. "It wasn't my place to ask."

She sighed. "No, it's fine. I am mad at him, but it's a long story. It's stupid. He lied about something that's probably really small to him, but to me it's a big deal. I don't know why."

"Can I give you some insight...on men?" He offered.

"Oh...uh, sure."

He pulled in front of her apartment building. He took his time parking before turning to her, choosing his words carefully.

"I try to make it a point not to tell lies that will hurt others, but not everyone is like that. If he's lying to you about something small, then he's probably lying to you about something bigger too."

So what else was he hiding then? Would she ever find out? Everything about him was shrouded in mystery. Even when she first spoke to him at seventeen, her innocent questions about his life were always answered vaguely or straight up ignored.

"Where are you from Ryuzaki?"

"It's not important."

Because even back then, she wanted him to let her inside.

Maybe she just had to deal with the idea that she had built him up inside of her to be something he wasn't. She idealized him from the moment he put the man who murdered her parents behind bars. She had years to reflect upon that life-changing act. She got swept up in his unexpected kindness, because over the years no one just gavethat to her without expecting something in return. She felt equal parts betrayed and ridiculous for feeling betrayed. He was exactly as he advertised himself, she was the one who had false expectations of him. So course he'd have secrets. She just thought after all this time and with the way he started treating her now, maybe she could be someone he considered worth letting in.

Her doorbell went off. She rolled off her couch, slipping into her fluffy slippers to check the camera. Naomi stood outside in her burgundy leather jacket, holding a small plastic bag.

Misa unlocked and opened the door, stepping back to let her by.

"I bet you haven't eaten today." Naomi said, setting the bag on her counter. "I made curry tonight I thought you might like some."

"Thank you." Misa said softly. She went back to the couch to sit down. She hadn't really spoken to Naomi since that day either. She sensed her friend may have been trying to give her some space.

Naomi sat on the couch facing her. Misa couldn't quite meet her face beyond seeing the concern that was etched into it for a split second before looking back at her lap.

"I know you might be angry with me-" Naomi began but Misa interrupted.

"Why would I be angry with you?"

"Oh Misa, if I had known he was your detective."

Misa shook her head. "I mean it, I'm not mad at you. I love you. I know if you had known you would have told me."

They sat in silence. She had so many questions she wanted to ask.

"So you guys...you were..." She struggled for the words.

"We worked on a serial murder case together in the US around 4 years ago. That's how I met him." Naomi responded promptly.

"But you also..."

Naomi took a deep breath and nodded.

"For a short time. It wasn't anything serious." She said firmly. "And I had no idea he was in Japan at all. To be honest, I haven't heard from him since I left the US years ago."

The idea that they had ever been anything made her feel small. Even so, she couldn't help but feel annoyed by his behavior on Naomi's behalf.

"He never called to see how you were? What an ass."

"As I said, it wasn't a particularly meaningful fling."

"Still..." Misa grumbled. She tugged on the hem of her oversized shirt, fidgeting. She felt agitation bubbling up inside of her.

"And his name?"

"He uses aliases depending on where he's working. I knew him as L only because I had to work closely with him. His full name is classified, I believe only a small handful of people know."

"I knew he couldn't tell me his full name." Misa mumbled, "I know what his jobs' like. I just assumed he'd tell me eventually. Learning that even that was a lie just made me feel like maybe I don't know anything about him at all. And that's probably how he wants it to be."

Naomi nodded solemnly, "He is notoriously secretive."

Misa felt the burning behind her eyes before the warmth of her tears began to brim over her eyelashes.

"Misa what's wro-"

"You're so mature!" She blurted out. Naomi inclined her head in question. Misa blushed as she stuttered on.

"I mean, you're just so much more mature than I am. You're refined and elegant. You're smarter than I am too. You have stuff in common, you were even his partner! I always wondered what his type was and now I just feel like..."

Her downtrodden tone puttered out. Naomi smiled kindly at her. "So you really like him then?"

Misa wiped at her tears furiously with the back of her hand.

"No." She said stubbornly, "He's a jerk, why would I? I don't care what his type is, forget I said that."

She felt ridiculous confessing her insecurities. She didn't even fully realize it bothered her until Naomi showed up. She genuinely loved and cared for her, but she hated the feeling of inferiority that swelled up inside of her when she compared herself to her friend.

Naomi pursed her lips, suppressing a smile. "Misa...L, as I'm sure you've noticed, craves sweets doesn't he?"

Misa nodded, feeling foolish, keeping her eyes trained on her fluffy slippers as Naomi continued.

"He craves sweetness and sugar above all else. He doesn't care for more, as you would put it, 'elegant and refined' flavors like say, seafood or caviar. He likes what he likes. We all have our tastes and I would say that you're the sweetest."

Misa looked up with tears now falling freely down her face. "I'm sorry Naomi I don't know why I'm like this."

Naomi shook her head, "It's alright. There was a very short time we were together it's true, but it didn't work out for a reason. I'm glad it didn't."

Misa sniffed, feeling her appetite returning to her. She got up to poke around the bag Naomi brought in. Inside there were several small containers of curry, vegetables, and fluffy steamed rice.

"Uhg, you're beautiful, smart, and you can cook?" Misa groaned as she stuck a fork into the first container, not even bothering to heat it up. "Ryuzaki really is an idiot for letting you go."

It was easier to joke about now that they had talked about it. Naomi shook her head smiling, "Like I said, I think you may be more compatible."

"Sure, in 10 years maybe he'll let me know when his birthday is." She then looked up expectantly at Naomi.

"October 31st-but I only know that because of paperwork."

"Creepy Halloween perfect for him." She mumbled again, stabbing aggressively at a piece of carrot, ignoring the fact that she always enjoyed the holiday, and thought it was kind of fitting that he was born on a day people hid behind masks and ate candy.

Naomi came around the counter cleaning up the clutter and mess that had accumulated over the past week of Misa's depression, tossing instant ramen packs into the trash and empty water bottles into recycling. "I don't know if it's my place to give you any advice..."

"Please!" Misa interrupted eagerly, "I'll take it!"

"Well, if you're looking to move forward with him, you may need to make the first move. He's quite practical and analytical. It's what makes him a great detective, but a terrible romantic partner."

Misa bit her lip, "You don't think it's too soon?"

"Well, as long as you don't attack him I'm sure it's fine. Just talk to him, let him know how you feel."

Misa had never been one to pursue in romantic relationships. In fact, a problem she faced now was being pursued by the wrong type of man. But even before that she never went after men, they went after her. That's just the way it was. Not that the idea repelled her; on the contrary, she'd been toying with the idea of making a move on him. Maybe this was the push she needed. Though, she was still angry with him. She'd probably have to overcome that hurdle first.

But something suddenly occurred to her.

"You said that only a few people know his name is L right?"

"Yes, why?"

"My stalker, when he called me that day, he laughed when I said Ryuzaki's name. He said he was lying to me. Do you think that means he knows?"

Naomi paused, her hands hovering over a bowl she was cleaning in the sink. "Have you told L this?"

Misa shook her head. "I haven't spoken to him all week."

Naomi grabbed a dish towel, drying her hands quickly. "Get dressed. I'm taking you to see him then."

Misa looked scandalized. "I haven't-no I look horrible!"

Naomi rolled her eyes. "Then get dressed. This is something he should know."

A whirlwind of quickly showering, brushing her teeth, tearing a comb through her hair and tossing on the first clean outfit she could find landed her an hour later standing nervously outside of his apartment building. She couldn't even give the excuse that it was too late: they both knew he'd be awake.

"I called him." Naomi said from her car. "He gave the go-ahead to his doorman. You can head on up."

She begged Naomi to come in with her. Despite their obvious romantic history together, Misa felt she needed the moral support, but Naomi declined.

"Tell him what your stalker said. And what happens after that..." She grinned at Misa as she rolled up her window and drove away. Misa scowled.

On the elevator ride up she smoothed the wrinkles out of the plain black T-shirt dress she wore. The knee high socks and sneakers were the only things she could find that went with it, the result of putting her laundry off for way too long. She looked much simpler than she preferred to be seen and it made her feel self conscious. She'd have preferred to stomp in wearing 6 inch heels and the confidence to match. She also chastised herself for putting black lace lingerie on underneath it all, because it wasn't like that was going to happen. They were just going to talk. You're still mad at him remember!

The doors slid open with a soft ping. She bent over to slip off her sneakers as she stepped in, putting on the guest slippers waiting in the entrance. She looked up to see him watching her, his expression impassive.

She swallowed at her nervousness. "Hey."

"Hello."

She scratched her arm looking around for a neutral topic to latch onto. His apartment was dim, almost like she had hers. She could see into his office where his computer illuminated the room.

"I'm not interrupting am I?"

"Not at all. I was just about to take a break."

She walked past him to the living room. "It's so dark in here."

She soon realized why. None of the lights were on, instead all of the curtains were drawn back revealing the twinkling cityscape around them. The balcony door was open letting the cool night breeze in. It was beautiful. If she had this view she'd probably never have the lights on either. Focus. She closed her eyes, taking a deep, calming breath.

She turned to face him. No more small talk. Don't be a coward.

"What am I to you?"

Without giving him a chance to answer she clarified quickly, "It's just, you definitely don't have to help me, but you do. And so that makes me think I'm...a friend? Something? But then you don't even tell me your real name?What's with you?"

He stayed silent, his lips a thin line on his face. Most distractingly his eyes never wavered from hers. They were black in the dim room and intensely focused. She looked away as she spoke again.

"You said you wanted me to trust you and to be honest with you. I think it's fair I get some honesty in return, don't you?"

He rubbed his thumb across his lower lip in thought. "I suppose so."

"So what am I?" She asked again.

"What do you want to be?"

She looked up confused. He scratched the back of his leg with his other foot, looking away from her.

"I-" She was put on the spot. What do I want to be...

"I don't know what you are." He admitted. "What I do know is that there is a dangerous man after you and I want to stop him from hurting you anymore than he already has. Take that to mean whatever you need it to."

She sighed, exasperated. "No, Ryuza-wait, should I even call you that?" She asked frustrated.

"When we're alone I don't care what you call me." Did he know how that sounded? Likely not. It made her heart pound in her chest even more, knocking the determination she had built up out of her.

"Well...okay." She finished lamely. So much for making a move, she didn't even know what she wanted to say.

Instead, she settled for telling him what she told Naomi about the call with her stalker. His face darkened as she explained.

"He said I was lying to you?" Ryuzaki murmured, mostly to himself as he paced around the room. "That explains your reaction afterwords."

She pursed her lips, remembering how she blew him off. Yes, if she wanted to receive the truth from anyone it should have been him, not her stalker. He stopped pacing.

"I will say this: your stalker is more...formidable than I anticipated. I tracked down the fan who offered you the rose. He was given the flower right before the event. He doesn't remember who gave it to him, only that the stranger suggested that it was your favorite."

Misa frowned. "What're you saying?"

"I'm saying I believe he made sure you'd get the flower so you would have precisely that type of reaction. He knew you'd be on edge after the phone call and he wanted to push you over that edge, publicly."

Misa blinked as he continued.

"In short: it's a form of psychological manipulation with the double edged sword of causing harm to your reputation at the same time."

"Did you see what people are saying about me." She asked quietly.

He paused. "I did."

"So it worked." She mumbled faintly. "You see how everyone is treating me right now. They think I'm crazy. I feel like I'm crazy. I'm alone. I'm always alone."

She stood trembling in the middle of the room, tears falling down her face. She hadn't cried all week until that night and now it seemed she was making up for it. She hid her face in her hands, ashamed and wishing she could go be miserable in peace.

She expected him to get frustrated with her, or to send her home as usual, but instead he approached her hesitantly, as if she would run away, his hands reaching for hers. He held them lightly. Through watery eyes she blinked up at him, startled by his gentle touch. His hands were much larger than her own, pale and but surprisingly warmer than the first time she had touched them. His thumb rubbed a small, soothing circle over hers that by contrast sent a rush of electrifying heat she could feel all the way down to her knees.

He swallowed, his eyes not meeting hers.

"I'm not used to being a friend. I don't think I've ever had one before." He murmured in a low tone, continuing his steady circles. "I apologize for not noticing how this has affected you."

She instantly imagined a dozen scenarios at once, all of which ended with them tangled in bed together, those long fingers rubbing tantalizing circles elsewhere. Her breathing hitched; usually these thoughts disturbed her. She'd push them down beneath the surface, where they could simmer away, eventually becoming an errant day dream or nighttime fantasy. But what was the use in pretending now? She wanted him to chase away the misery she felt. She was struck with the overwhelming need to open herself to him completely.

"L," She whispered unsteadily, using his real name for the first time, "What if I don't want to be your friend?"

His thumb stilled and his dark eyes flicked up to meet hers. Confusion and what seemed like hurt, flit across them briefly.

"I apologize." He said, starting to pull away.

"Wait!" She cried out and leaning forward on her tip-toes, she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him back to her. Their lips slid against each other in a clumsy kiss as she clung to him. He went rigid in shock as she pressed herself against his body. His lips were soft, and vaguely sweet. She parted her own slightly to dip her tongue into his startled mouth, desperate to taste him. His hands that had gripped on to the sides of her shoulders spasmed, briefly pulling her closer, before pushing her away.

She panted slightly, watching him as he stumbled backwards for a moment, hitting the wall behind him with a thump.

"Misa, playing a game like this is-"

"I'm not playing a game." She pleaded softly.

He looked dazed for a moment; the usual cool and unbothered facade crumbling to the ground before her. His eyes were bright, his pale cheeks now flushed with color. His shirt collar was still stretched from where she had clung to him, revealing a flushed collar bone. It was intoxicating seeing him become so disheveled, knowing she had caused that reaction. She wanted to see more.

He licked his lips, his dark eyes darting back down to her mouth and for a wonderful, fleeting moment she wondered if he was about to continue their kiss, but instead the muffled ringing of his phone interrupted.

Misa let out a huff of frustration as he dug the ancient flip phone out of his pocket gratefully and answered.

He turned away from her, his shoulders hunched. "Aizawa."

He paused and without looking over his shoulder said, "I'm with her now. Yes, I'll be right there."

Misa bit her lip as he finished the conversation, the phone snapping shut. He turned back to her.

"Something's happened, I need to go."

"Shouldn't we talk about all this." She whined.

He was already punching in the numbers on the keypad next to the door, slipping into his shoes. "There's no need Misa." He was still slightly out of breath, but quickly regaining his composure. "You're lonely I understand. You may get confused with all of this going on. It's normal to fall prey to your misguided impulses."

Her mouth fell open in disbelief. "I am not confused! I really have feelings for you!"

He turned and faced her. His large eyes cold and black again, "Stay here tonight. Don't open the door for anyone. I'll be back in the morning." The elevator doors slid shut.

She spent the rest of the night furious at both at L and herself. She remembered Naomi's advice, "Well as long as you don't attack him..." So much for that. She practically threw herself at him. But she confessed her feelings too and all she got in return was the same patronizing treatment. Misguided impulses? If he were any other man they would have already been in bed together. She felt distinctly hot and agitated at the thought and knew that part of why she was so drawn to him was because he was so unlike any other man. Still, making a move did nothing. If anything it pushed him further away.

Was she so stupid in his eyes that she'd just throw herself at any man who gave her attention? She paced around his living room, seething.

She looked at her phone where a message from Light was waiting to be answered. In a moment of recklessness, she responded.

Sure, I'd love to go out with you.

L caught his breath on the way down, grateful to finally have her eyes off of him. She was worse than any craving for sugar that overtook him. Nothing compared to that. To the way it felt when she pressed herself to him, the warmth of her body against his. To the small, almost imperceptible breathy moan that left her lips when her tongue slipped into his mouth. It took every ounce of self control he had to keep himself from picking her up and taking her back into his bedroom where he could finally-no.

He took in another steadying breath. This is a classic response to stress. He reasoned. She views me as a respected authority figure. She's seeking stability, a friend. She said herself she was feeling lonely.

It didn't help that he felt so finely attuned to her presence. He reacted on instinct when he saw her crying, wanting only to soothe the strange stabbing ache inside of him that was triggered by the sight of her tears.

And then for her to turn around and throw herself at him...It sent all the careful rationale he had out the window. He wanted to let her continue, let her have her way with him. He felt a deeply dark desire to let her use him however she wanted. The way he used others in the past...

...But rationality did return, forcing him to push her away. And it reminded him that she wasn't in her right state of mind either. It would have been wrong of him to take advantage of her when she was like that. And besides, they had a history. She was a repeat client. No, that wasn't right. A friend? Not quite. It bothered him that she didn't fit into any box he tried putting her into. She had wiggled her way out into someplace completely new and it worried him.

The only remedy to the madness, he decided, was to catch her stalker quickly, send him to jail and then quietly disappear again. Solve some cases overseas, maybe go back to England. Some distance would help clear his mind and he could slip back into the comfort of who he was before.

Aizawa was waiting for him in the lobby. He spoke urgently as they headed to the car.

"Another Facade model missing. Her roommate hasn't seen her in a week. No sign of exactly when she left, but this was outside her apartment."

He handed L a clear plastic evidence bag, scattered inside were several blood red roses, their stems snapped and broken, petals crushed as if they'd been stomped on. He held it up to eye level examining it closely.

"And Light Yagami," L murmured, "You've kept an eye on him?"

"Matsuda has been keeping watch like you asked. He's made no suspicious moves today." Aizawa frowned. "Do you think it's the same man, the stalker?"

L scrutinized the bag. He was positive it was the same man who was after Misa. He left her roses to send a message. And now, with what Misa told him about the stalker having some knowledge of L, he felt like these roses were a message to him too.

AN: I hope you enjoyed. This was one of my favorite chapters when I started planning this story out. This and another one that's coming up, because I'm a sucker for a little angst and pain haha...

My classes are going alright and thankfully don't seem to be too stressful hallelujah. I'm still sticking to my posting a chapter a week, but please understand the world is nuts right now so sometimes it might be a chapter every two weeks, especially when finals or midterms hit. I do understand your fears of abandonment (I've gotten some messages already lol) when it comes to L/Misa fics. Let's all pour one out for the OG Rewrite.

I hope you're all staying safe, thank you as always for your kudos and comments!