Here’s a quick Misa & Light roleswap I wrote a while ago ! Initially this was going to be the start of a longer fic but I’ve decided I like it best as is.
Light had been waiting for days when Kira knocked on his door.
He’d put his tendrils out in Aoyama, expecting Kira to contact him then, but when he hadn’t, he’d decided that Kira must have had the eyes. Rem had explained to him how they worked — the years they’d take, and the way they’d hide what he had left. Picking him out of the crowd then tracking him down later would have been a smart way to get around whoever must have had their eyes on him.
The idea that Kira wouldn’t contact him all was unthinkable. As it was, he was a threat to Kira. He knew about the notebooks, and he had Sakura TV in the palm of his hand. Either Kira would find him, or he would kill him.
It was only a matter of time.
When the knock finally came, he was at his desk, reading through the papers his agent had sent. He looked up at Rem, who nodded back at him. She drifted towards the door, then poked her head. For a long time, she was quiet, and then she turned back to him.
“It’s Kira,” she said. “No lifespan.”
A thrill ran through him. He set the papers aside, then shut his eyes and breathed out.
“Are you sure?” she said. “There’s still time to back out.”
“There really isn’t.” He stood up, then went to his dresser. He took off the sweatpants he’d been wearing and pulled on a pair of black jeans, then straightened out his hair. After a brief moment, he traded his blue shirt for a black turtleneck, then straightened out his hair again.
For a while, he’d found it impossible to dress or clean himself, and his hair had grown into a frazzled mess that his stylist fussed over every time he showed up for a shoot, but ever since he’d formed his plan to find Kira he’d been sleeping for at least a few hours a night and showering before bed. He needed to be prepared.
The knock came again. If he didn’t open it soon, she might leave. He looked up at Rem. “Do I look okay?”
“You look fine,” she told him. Then, “I don’t think you should do this.”
“I know,” he told her, then opened up the door.
For a moment he could only stare, startled.
It was a girl, not a woman or a man — a girl who couldn’t have been much older than him. She was standing there, real and alive, in the flickering red light of his apartment’s exit sign, which had broken weeks ago. She was dressed bizarrely, in a frilly black skirt and corset, her hair in thick pigtails, heart shaped lace tights on her legs.
He hadn’t given much thought to what Kira would look like. In his mind, he — she — would was nothing but a thought, an energy, vague and sharp, justice with a pen. If forced, he would have offered up the description of a man much older than him. Someone sturdy and calm. A steady hand and simple clothes. Unassuming, but with a quiet strength. This person wasn’t the slightest bit like that.
“Um,” she said. “Can I come in?” She glanced upwards, towards the camera in the corner of the hallway.
“Right,” he said. “Yeah, of course.” He stepped aside and waved her in, then shut the door behind them.
With the two of them alone, he was suddenly very aware of the shabbiness of his apartment. It was clean, and the light flowed in bright and sunset-orange from a westward window, but it was also tiny, a single six-mat with a bathroom off to the side, the walls a deep green that made things look smaller, and mostly empty apart from his desk, his bed, a minifridge that sometimes made strange gurgling noises, and a set of low bookshelves.
He’d sold his parents house — the mortgage was untenable, and anyway he couldn’t stand living there, remembering — and he’d gotten a substantial payout from their life insurance. Between those two and his moderate modelling career, he had enough money not to live comfortably, but certainly not lavishly. He could have rented a much nicer place if he wanted, but then the money would run out quick. He had to make it last.
Mostly he didn’t think about it. Things were as they were. It was big enough for him, and really there was something nice about having the four walls so close. He could get up and touch them any time he wanted. It was safe. But with this girl — Kira — standing in the doorway, the first visitor he’d had if you didn’t count Rem, it felt small and strange and sad.
He pushed away the thought. It wasn’t any of those things. It was smart. It was economic. His parents would be proud, if they could see.
He would make Kira proud instead, now.
He smiled at his new god feeling, for the first time in months, at peace.
