It is a bright day.
Days like this, she wants to go out and scream her head off to the world, cry out to them what they are missing. Those people all around the world, they know nothing. They keep living as if nothing has happened, as if all those years under his reign meant nothing, nothing—she wants to kill them all just to prove them wrong. It is a bright, sunny day, and she wants (she needs) to write a name in her notebook (the one nobody knows she has, not even him). The bright rays of the sun make her nauseous, and what dominates her mind when she is at the verge of another breakdown like this one is the urge to shove the atrocity itself to their faces. The obscene truth: That their savior is dead.
Light is dead.
Why can't she join him?
Tears, fresh and flowing down her flawless skin, cause her to cringe with disgust. She is Second Kira, Light's biggest supporter, his accomplice and his lover. What is she doing here, in this flat that is pulsing with her memories of him? Not that he stayed here very often—he was always at work, dedicated. Her hardworking, brilliant Light—is there anyone as perfect as him? Who can dare to be? Who can even imagine—
Rrring. Rrrring.
No. Not now. Not when she is wallowing in her misery, not now. Why don't they allow her to grieve for her Light's untimely demise? Why don't they allow her the slightest bit of right to mourn him after his death? It's highly unlikely that she'll get an answer, so she just picks up the receiver and holds her breath.
"Moshi moshi, Misa-san. I'm just calling to check on you. You, ah, you need anything? You can tell me if you need anything, you know."
She wants him to just shut up and leave her alone. But it's Matsuda, silly sweet Matsuda with his awkward looks and sheepish smiles. She doesn't have the heart or the strength to shout her anger at him. It's not him who deserves it anyway. It's not Matsuda. It's—
She takes a quick and very sharp breath, like a gasp that's inhaled. Her face muscles don't move except for this action and she remembers that there is somebody—Matsuda—at the other end so decides to reply, just because he is very nice and kind.
"I'm okay, Matsuda-san. Arigatou gozaimasu."
She puts the receiver down, not caring if it's rude or not—and it is very rude, considering how nice Matsuda is. He has to deal with rude people everyday anyway, so who cares if I'm a little bit rude? Pouts a small, selfish voice in her head. She sighs and bows her head. Now her mind is infested with otherworldly voices as well. Is she going crazy again?
But it is a bright day, and Amane Misa doesn't want anything to spoil her mourning. It is a very important phase of her life. It leads to the end of life. In this case, hers. Idly, she wonders if dying on such a bright day like today is a teeny bit too poetic. She figures it is.
Tomorrow won't be as glaringly sunny as today.
Her clothes are scattered across the floor, but unlike what she would do a week earlier, she doesn't go and put them neatly on her bed. Instead, she goes and picks a black Gothic Lolita-styled dress—the one she wore the first time she entered Light's room. She's sure she can fit into it, it might even be looser now that she's lost at least a few pounds since she heard the news. It will do.
("What are you doing here?" The astonishment in his eyes is what urged her further on to believe it is the right thing to do, coming to his house like that. Then, in his room, she's sitting on his lap and listening to him and a moment later, kissing him. Their very first kiss.
It feels like heaven.)
Her steps are quick and soft although they should be heavy with the kind of resolve and heartbreak she's carrying. The neighbours who happen to see her avert their eyes when she catches them looking at her half-smiling face with astonishment. They know that her fiancé died and they know that she is in mourning—they cannot understand what's happened to change her back into Misa-Misa. Laughter bubbles up at her throat but she supresses it. They will never guess what she's so excited about. Of course they can't. They never knew Light like she did. The thought of being with Light again is the only thing that could have cracked this half-smile on her tear-stricken face. She's going to be fully his now.
She cannot wait to end her life.
Sitting at the edge of a very tall building—the Yotsuba building, quite ironically—is a means to get it. All she has to do is push her underweight body over the building, it's laughably easy with the nausea hitting her head. She didn't know she had a fear of heights.
Her eyes close on their own accord as she takes one step towards the edge.
(Rem's voice haunts her for a moment, discouraging: "Those who have used the Death Note will go to nothingness when they die. Are you sure you want to do it, Misa? Do you know for sure?")
The half-smile becomes a full grin. Had she taken a moment to look in the little hand-mirror she has in her pocket, she could have seen whom she resembles now and be scared of it.
("Do you know for sure?")
"Yes, I do."
And with closed eyes and a grin worthy of a certain Shinigami, Amane Misa dreams she flies.
A/N: It's been ages since I wrote/post something. This was written some time ago, when I first read the end of the manga, so there's a reason this isn't the best of my work. Just edited a bit and post here. Of the idea, well, watching the anime came later, and I thought they hadn't done Misa enough justice. We should've seen her break after hearing the news of Light's death, that is, assuming she remembers. And Yes, I write her name as "Amane Misa", in Japanese style, you know, because "Misa Amane" just doesn't sound right to my ears. Anyway, review please, would you? Need to have some support so I can return to writing once again.