II.
Believers
In a dark corner of her bedroom, Misa sat on the floor before an altar, bowed her head and lit incense. There was a low hum of noise and light from the television at the other end of the room, but the ceiling light was off; the details beyond the candle flame on the altar were lost in shadow; all the blinds had been drawn against the sun outside.
Her face was streaked with tears and her eyes were swollen and red; she had been crying, off and on, for the last three days - since the news had come to her of Light's death, since Kira had retreated from the face of the earth.
Three days, and no one had died unexpectedly; most people probably hadn't even noticed yet, but Misa was very thorough, watching the news with fiery eyes and waiting for the criminals broadcast there to be punished. She was worried; nothing had happened, and she had once been carefully instructed about what should be done if such a thing happened....specifically, if Kira were to be killed by the vicious, useless law men who pursued him.
She was not sure that Kira was definitely dead; there had been no announcement, no declaration of victory by the world-wide association that had made it their business to report on all of Kira's actions.
Misa was no genius, even she could tell that something was being hidden; that the faithful of Kira were doomed never to know what had happened to their lord.
I won't let it happen! I've lost Light, I won't lose Kira too!
She dragged herself up from the floor and stood in the middle of her bedroom, looking around. Clothes were scattered here and there, the bed was mussed and unmade; the sleeve of an old shirt of Light's was visible between the folded covers.
When they had come to tell her the news - Matsuda and the others - there had been something terribly false, almost...gloating, about their feigned grief. Light was killed by Kira, they told her - her darling, beautiful Light.
When the first wave of screaming tears had tired her out, and they had all left her alone again with empty condolences, Misa had sat up in her bed, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, and stared at the blank wall across from her for hours.
How could it be? Her Light, handsome, noble, strong; why would someone like him be killed by Lord Kira? Someone who had never done anything wrong in their whole life; someone so good, someone with all the right intentions.
Lord Kira would never do that!
She found herself standing straight as a steel rod, her fists tightly clenched, her eyes full of anger.
Lord Kira would never do that! He only kills evil people!
She was well aware that numerous police had supposedly died at Kira's hands, but then there had been all the talk about a second Kira - she had even been suspected of it, before Ryuzaki wised up. As if she was someone who could be used by Kira! If only!
But - there is one thing I can do -
She had talked about it before; she couldn't remember with who, but the conversation was clear in her head, like a tape-recorded message playing, crisp, sharp.
"Kira should be remembered, even if he doesn't succeed; Kira must become a god that can succor the needy, the unfortunate, the oppressed; a god who the weak can call upon for vengeance, when they are wronged! You could do that for him, Misa."
"But how would I make Kira a god? Misa is not very smart, and it would probably be very hard to do."
"Don't be silly, Misa. There are millions of people who worship Kira already; you could be their high priestess, leading them in the way of Kira. You talk about how much you love him all the time, and you're beautiful, famous, popular; you'd be the perfect person."
Who had it been that she'd talked with, had that conversation with? She'd been so pleased he thought she was beautiful....
Thinking about it made her head hurt, and she sighed, relaxed from her stiff posture and took a step over to collapse on the edge of the bed. What could she do? What could she do? How to start?
The low buzz of the television suddenly climbed an octave and was loud enough to pull her eyes up from the blank spot on the wall where she had been staring.
The TV screen was glowing fluorescent purple; laid over the brilliant color were dark blue characters; "The Faithful Call Out To Lord Kira!"
The faithful.
She blinked.
"...millions of people who worship Kira already..."
In another moment she had grabbed her jacket and run out the door. The door to her apartment banged open again behind her, but she didn't stop.
The faithful.
She knew exactly what she had to do.
The men in charge of Sakura Television had no idea what to say when Misa showed up in their midst; she had entered quietly through the back door while the guard was on cigarette break; they had no warning whatsoever. The broadcast of Kira's Faithful was audible throughout the studio, and she seemed to fit with it perfectly; she was wearing a long, hooded white robe and her blond hair was down. She looked like a tragic angel, smiling but with eyes red-rimmed from crying, and she did not speak until she had the attention of everyone on the production floor.
"My name is Misa Amane. Kira himself requested that in the event of his death, I should do this; I saw your broadcast and came right away."
She had thought it through carefully; this was the best way to get them to listen to her, to agree; while she was buying the robe and walking here, she had tried out a hundred different greetings in her head.
And I can't remember - I can't remember who told me to do this. It makes my head hurt and I get dizzy. So maybe - maybe it is true! Oh, if Misa had met Kira, that would be the best thing ever!
At the very least, she definitely had their attention now! Even the man who was broadcasting the show was looking at her.
"Misa Amane! And you say Kira himself!"
There was a glitter of greed in the eyes of the production manager; there were ratings in that glitter, an endless, infinite spike in ratings!
"Ichiro! Tetsu! Get her powdered and ready for the camera in five minutes, you hear me!"
The two men in question immediately took hold of Misa's arms and dragged her off towards the makeup room. The production manager called over his shoulder towards the camera crews.
"Cut for commercial - cut now, do you hear me! Yes! Now!"
And then he was off following Misa.
"So, do you know what you're going to say to the people, Misa?"
"Yes, I know what to say. Oh - I'm going to invite all the followers of Kira to meet with me tonight at sunset; you should probably know that."
"Oh! Yes, that's a wonderful idea! Viewer participation!"
He looked almost feverish.
"Umm...Mister Producer, are you alright? Because if Misa gets sick then there's no High Priestess of Kira."
"What? Yes, yes, I'm fine! Why would you ask that?"
There was a sudden and furious spasm of powder, hairspray, lipstick, and an equally furious spasm of Misa beating them off.
"No, no, no! The High Priestess of Kira is going natural; that is how it should be. Oh - except the sheer powder, yes, so my face isn't shiny."
Misa stood, pushing back the hands of the men who had been told to groom her for the camera, and looked up expectantly at the production manager.
"Am I going on now?"
"Yes, yes, right away. Go get set in front of the camera and I'll wrap up the commercial break -"
He strode briskly away from her, and one of the men, Tetsu, bowed shortly and led her forward.
"I just have to know, Amane-san - are you really the Chosen of Kira?"
She nodded, distracted by the cameras.
"I knew it! I knew Lord Kira would come forward eventually! I'll be at your sunset meeting, Amane-san!""
Misa spread her robe carefully and adjusted her hood until the cameraman gave her a thumbs-up.
"You should get off the screen now, Tetsu-san. Listen to the broadcast, if you really want to come."
There was a silent three-two-one countdown, and then the red record-and-broadcast lights came on, and Misa smiled sweetly for the camera.
The production manager, watching her from the other room, was at first pleased, and then awed. It was a fantastic performance!
"Thank you, all who are watching this broadcast. In order to truly express the purpose of this show, I, Misa Amane, the High Priestess of Kira, will hold a candlelight vigil tonight, at the beach, which is approximately fifteen minutes from the headquarters of Sakura Television. Any and all who support Lord Kira, his great mission, and the New World of Peace are welcome to come. If you can, bring a candle, and wear white. We, the followers of Kira, should express our purity in this world that has been forsaken by everyone but Lord Kira. If we call out to him, he will surely return! He will punish the wicked, the evil, and good, honest souls will be able to live a just life!
The phone lines in the station were suddenly ringing off the hook; the email and text monitors sat back from their screens, suddenly wordless, as message after message poured in. The screen counters were resetting themselves in the hundreds, and then in the thousands - and some of the email messages were from global monitors, asking if the broadcast was real. The Chosen of Kira, they were saying -
The Chosen of Kira!
"Someone, find me the address and bus routes, subway routes, train routes - anything to get to that beach she's talking about! Then get it on cards and flash it up on the screen! We're going to rebroadcast this message...every hour until sunset, got it? That gives us five chances to rake this in today - come on, folks, get a move on!"
There was an instant scrabble to do as he had said.
"Get me the mobile news team, all our best cameras and the new boom-microphone sound set - everything, I said!"
His personal cell phone buzzed at his hip, and without missing a beat he answered it, shouting over the hubbub of the station.
"Kanzuka here, go!"
"Yes, it's a real broadcast - who are you? How did you get this number?"
"No! Contact the station through direct channels if you want a feed!"
He hung up the phone; the few men who were standing close to him looked curious.
"NBC. Said they were monitoring; as if NBC would call my personal -"
"Sir! Sir - "
"Don't interrupt me!"
"But sir! It's NBC on line sixteen, sir; they're requesting a live video feed and they want to speak directly to you."
He looked down at the pale-faced rookie who was holding up the phone almost fearfully. Blinking, and then suddenly smiling wolfishly, Production Manager Kanzuka took the call.
"Kanzuka here. I'm assuming you're the same person who just called my personal phone?"
"Yes, we'll be doing a broadcast of that vigil later this evening. Yes, my assistant told me - you wanted a live feed? Let's talk dollars, sir. We're talking about the ceremony of the century!"
He had no idea.
In the street, looking up at the video-sides on the buildings of the city, Light could scarcely believe his eyes. Before she even said her name, Light felt the urge to laugh maniacally and restrained it.
"Eh, Light, what were you saying about that girl? Isn't she on TV?"
Everyone on the street was as distracted by the television spectacle as Light had momentarily been, so he risked a brief answer.
"Yes, Ryuk. Misa, doing exactly what I told her too."
And Light, smiling, decided that he really did love Misa after all.
"She's given me the perfect opportunity..."
A/N: Ah! Sorry for the wait, but I have so many different stories now...still, I think I'm doing a pretty good job updating them all, so, I present chapter 2! Wherein Misa figures out what she's meant to do, and Light notices! Much thanks to SlimChandi for my first review!
Please Review! It doesn't take long; I know, I've tried it!