Summary: A short trip outside of the investigation headquarters has unforeseen consequences for Light, L, and Misa. When the three are forced to (quite literally) spend time in each other's shoes, will they adapt, will they grow, and most importantly; will things ever be the same?
Disclaimer: Death Note is the copyrighted property of Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata, not me.
In Another's Shoes Chapter 6
It was in much higher spirits that the Kira Investigation team returned to their work some time later, although Misa was not among them, having excused herself to her suite. Though all of the men's laughter had finally died away, their shared state of contentment had remained. It was with renewed vigor that they began to go about their tasks once again. The tension that had hung draped across the room earlier had dissolved into the air as if it had never been.
For everyone, that is, except for Light. He was sitting in his chair like always, working diligently, but every line in his body was bunched up and tensed, unconsciously revealing his discomfort. Every few minutes he would even squirm a bit in his seat. He had decided that the indignity of the daiper-feeling would be lesser than, if only slightly, that of the tampon, but he had not anticipated just how… squishy it would feel once his flow really began. Whenever he moved his legs he would feel that wet sogginess shift beneath him, and even when he sat perfectly still he still imagined he could feel the thick, disgusting blood oozing slowly out of him. In order to distract himself from these uncomfortable thoughts he dove into his work with an intensity bordering on bloodlust.
'I've got to find Kira.' he thought. 'If it weren't for that bastard I wouldn't have been a suspect, I wouldn't have been taken here and I certainly wouldn't be a damned GIRL right now!! I'll catch that bastard and make him pay for the misery he's caused!'
Light's eyes glinted with fire as he found his rhythm, fingers flying across his keyboard in a rising crescendo of hate, a blinding amount of anger and hate focused, concentrated like a laser towards this one goal.
Light's smile was positively vicious.
L was glad that Light was finally able to redirect his irritation towards a constructive purpose, because he was sure he would not have wanted that malicious, predatory grin directed at himself. No matter how much he loved to tease Light, he did not have a death wish. It had been bad enough having a tampon stuffed up his nose, which had not only been uncomfortable but which had also left him sneezing for a good half-hour because of the persistent tickling of cotton bits stuck up his nostril. He was glad the first tampon Light had grabbed had been a "slim"; he internally shuddered at the thought of what it might have been like if Light's hand had found an "extra-absorbent" instead,
While being chased around the room by the venomous, post-menstrual teenager, L had begun to really notice the differences between his own body and Light's. He found the rush of adrenaline a bit stronger, probably due to adolescent hormones, and Light's body, though fast and strong enough to keep pace with L, didn't possess some of the dexterity and coordination that L had developed through Copaiera. It was much harder to pull off some of his specialty kicks than usual.
L was surprised most, however, by the fact that he didn't crave cheesecake after such vigorous exercise; he would usually feel the urge and call Watari to bring him a piece immediately, but today his craving had barely surfaced. He had called for a piece and devoured it anyways, but the feeling wasn't quite the same. It was like he didn't really need it, he just wanted it. L surmised that his inordinate need of sugar had been partly due to physical cravings, which he had left, along with his extraordinary stamina, within his own body. He had also required a larger quantity of coffee to stay awake during the night.
There was a whole eighty-six percent chance that L's new body was going to inhibit his work, and he didn't like it one bit. He knew that the average adolescent needed an average of nine hours of sleep a night, meaning roughly sixty-three hours a week, in order to function properly from day to day, but L was loathe to spend so much time in an unproductive, unconscious state. Even Light, who had stamina above the norm for his age group, was still only able to skip so much regular sleep before he collapsed at his keyboard. L estimated that Light required, roughly, a minimum of five hours a night. This was still a long time to a man accustomed to approximately seven hours of sleep every month..
After letting all possible approaches to his new predicament turn over in his mind, L decided, grudgingly, that the best way to approach the situation would be to adjust himself to Light's adolescent sleep schedule, and then slowly work to wean his new body off of it; slowly enough that Light wouldn't notice the growing bags under his eyes, and go into a rage and beat L to death for ruining his beauty. Really, the boy was quite vain.
Hiding a sigh of resignation in the action of blowing on his steaming cup of coffee, L returned the small fraction of his consciousness that had been contemplating this issue back to the task at hand. Sleep could wait until nighttime, but Kira would not.
Several floors below the investigation team, Misa was standing in front of the full-length mirror in her walk-in closet, hands on hips, closely scrutinizing a reflection that was not her own. She had stripped down to a pair of boxers from the new wardrobe set that Watari had provided for her (they were a bit drafty, but surprisingly comfortable). She had been quite curious to see what L looked like underneath his baggy, tasteless clothes, and she was quite surprised to find that he was not altogether unattractive. His body was almost completely hairless, his skin as smooth, white and clammy as the underbelly of a fish. He didn't even have underarm hair.
Misa was a little grossed out by it (she usually preferred men with actual skin pigmentation) but she was also a little intrigued, in a morbid way. The lack of hair, and the pale, unblemished quality of his skin wasn't really feminine, but… it had potential. His figure, too, wasn't half bad. Although his neck was a bit too thick, his shoulders too broad and his ass completely nonexistent, his waist was slender enough (how did he keep that up while eating so much cake??) and his arms and legs, though muscular, lacked the bulk and tone of most male arms. Their muscle was coiled and hidden under the skin, like in a dancer or a female athlete. They could pass.
And his face… well, she had plenty of cosmetics for that.
Misa grinned excitedly into the mirror, twirling around theatrically to face the racks of clothing and costumes that stretched out in front of her. Oh, how she loved a good makeover!
Misa opened the many drawers and compartments of her vanity, pulling out bottles and tubes, brushes and sponges and pencils with a practiced dexterity. Her mind was focused completely on her choices, calculating the exact shade of foundation she would need, the best method of lining her eyes, her mouth.
From her experience working as a model and an idol, Misa had learned a lot about the art and application of makeup. Although, of course, she had employed in her staff some of the best makeup artists, wardrobe specialists and hairdressers in the industry, she was still required to have proficiency in each area. After all, if she had an important photo shoot to attend and a member of her staff was late, she would have to be able to fix her own makeup, or coordinate her own outfit, and make the appointment with a smile on her face and a bounce in her step. Deadlines were deadlines, and there were no excuses in the merciless field of modeling, and certainly no second chances. Misa hadn't climbed her way to the top on a stairway of rainbows and fairy-sparkles, but of competition and competence. Misa secured Ryuuzaki's long bangs back with a series of hair clips, and began to work.
After testing the palest shade of foundation on the back of her hand and confirming it as a match, Misa began to apply it to her face with a soft sponge, evening out L's skin. Thankfully, it didn't need much in that area, since everything was mostly the same uniform, pasty white color.
Next, she took out several creams meant to create subtle, natural-looking shadows and highlights on the skin, and two clean wedge-shaped sponges for application. She began to line the shadow around her face, softening the edges of her forehead and giving her jaw the effect of looking like a soft curve, eliminating all angularity, making small lines of shadow and then blending it with her fingers. She proceeded to add subtle shadows under her cheekbones, her eyebrows, and along her nose. Then she applied a few dabs of highlighting cream to the bridge of her nose, her cheekbones, her chin, just under her eyebrows and her forehead, blending the edges of the highlighted areas with the shadows so you couldn't tell where one stopped and the other began.
The next step was the eyebrows. Thankfully, Ryuuzaki's were naturally thin, so she didn't have to do any plucking. She took out a black pencil and used it to add a subtle arching quality to each brow, extending the outside edges as well to complete the effect. Upon examining her progress, Misa was impressed; even without lipstick or eyeshadow, Ryuuzaki looked quite feminine.
After giving her work one final once-over, and giving herself a satisfied pat-on-the-back, Misa applied a translucent powder to her face, to preserve the initial layer of cosmetics, to prevent accidental smearing or smudging. Then, she began to work with the real makeup.
Over the next fifteen minutes, Misa further transformed L's face using the magic of high-quality false eyelashes, mascara, and the careful application of eyeliner that changed the dark circles under L's eyes from facial blemishes to beautifications. Layering several shades of dark eye shadow created a "smoky eyes" effect that contrasted well with L's skin. Now, his usual unblinking half-lidded stare would look intense rather than intimidating, coy rather than disconcerting. Using a large brush, Misa applied a light layer of blush to the areas of her cheeks, forehead and chin, to add a little color and health to otherwise sallow skin. For the final touch, Misa decided on a shade of lipstick that was such a dark red it bordered on black, which fit Misa's gothic tastes to a T. It had a nice shine, too.
After cleaning and putting away all of her makeup equipment, Misa tucked her hair under a close-fitting net head covering before scampering back into her closet, all the way to a special section in its innermost depths. This area contained rows of shelves filled with a gross quantity of plastic model heads, each of which sported a wig. There were wigs of all colors, lengths and styles, as well as a variety of hair extensions, all of different quality, color and material. Misa had a bit of a fascination with wigs and disguises (since she was little she had aspired to be a mistress of disguise, like in secret agent movies and detective films) which had helped her countless times in successfully avoiding fans, stalkers, journalists, paparazzi and other such unpleasant figures.
Misa surveyed her prized collection, mentally discarding choices left and right. None of her lighter-colored wigs would work with Ryuuzaki's pale skin tone, so she would have to limit herself to black hair. Ryuuzaki's face, even with feminizing makeup, was still a bit too long, a fact which a short wig would make all too apparent, so Misa dropped the idea of anything shorter than shoulder-length.
Misa finally decided on several likely candidates: a soft shoulder-length black wig with wavy hair and wispy bangs, one slightly longer that was comprised of delicate, perfect ringlets, a wig of sleek straight hair and straight-cut bangs that fell all the way to the waist, and a wig of thick, wavy, layered hair that would reach to mid-back, with messy bangs so low as to almost cover the eyes entirely. After carefully removing each wig from their place, she brought them over to the vanity and tried them on.
The first wig looked nice enough, but the hair was thin, and didn't have enough volume to add any fullness to the shape of Ryuuzaki's head. The second wig was gorgeous in a doll-lolita way, but Misa didn't like the way it made her forehead look triangular. The third contrasted beautifully against Ryuuzaki's pale skin and transformed the lingering masculinity of his features into an elegant and mysterious androgyny. Misa was leaning towards choosing it, but after she tried on the last wig she knew she had found the one. The wig's volume and shape did wonders for cropping the lengths of Ryuuzaki's face, and its messy quality mimicked Ryuuzaki's natural hair; but instead of looking like an ugly crow's nest like his usually did, its mussed locks looked wild and inviting, like someone who had just gotten out of bed. The layered effect also worked well in covering up or distracting from Ryuuzaki's thick neck, slight Adams apple and broad shoulders. The illusion of femininity was much more concrete.
Now it was time to choose clothing!
Author's Note:
I know this chapter is short, but I've been really super busy over the last month with finals and crap like that. Please forgive me!
I'm sorry if I went into a bit too much detail with Misa's cross-dressing makeup and her wig choices, but gender-bending in any shape or form fascinates me (hence, one reason why I chose to write this fic) and I was reveling in the opportunity to use some of my knowledge on the subject. This chapter on a whole was a bit more contemplative. Don't worry, next chapter will hold much more hilarity and a lot more action. I'll try my hardest to get it out soon. Thankfully, Christmas break is coming up…
Thank you to all of you who review; you really inspire me and help to remind me to work on this story! You make my day!