Disclaimer: I amuse myself with what could have been, but I don't own DN... yet.
Summary: Misora Naomi had a mother.
VII. Faith
She waited for days for the phone-call that never came. Still now, she still waits and hopes.
She still believes that her daughter, her beautiful, smart Naomi, who had a bright future in front of her, would one day come back.
She's the only one.
Her husband, grown old and grey, does not talk about her anymore, and thinks of his child as dead, and mourns her. Her friends have stopped calling, and have moved on. The whole family avoids the subject, and the police have given her up as lost. But she won't give up.
She won't.
¬¬¬
At night, careful not to wake her husband, she creeps downstairs to her small studio in darkness. She locks the door behind her and searches for the matches to light the candles. Placing them in front of the small figure of the faceless deity of justice, she bows low, her forehead touching the ground.
'Glory be to Kira,' she whispers and starts the litany of prayers of the church of Kira, the god who offers tangible hope for a better world. And as an ending to her prayers, before she hides the evidence of her worship and returns like a thief to her cold bed, she makes her final entirety.
'Kira, god of Justice,' she begs brokenly, hands clasped together and tears trickling down her face, 'Please, please bring my Naomi back.'
Poor woman. As far as I know, Naomi's remains were never even found.
Reviews (such a rarity these days alas...) are most welcome :)