Misa Amane looked out of the window sadly. She was sat the window seat of the apartment she and Light had lived in…until three weeks ago, that is. Three weeks ago to the day, Misa’s heart had been broken so badly that she knew it would never fix. She looked over at Light’s Iei in its place on the hearth and sighed again. It was a lingering, painful sigh, and she had done it so many times over the last twenty one days that it was impossible to count.
It was raining outside. Misa had always loved the rain; the way it made everything sparkle and shine, the feeling she got when she splashed in all the puddles, and the gentle pitter-patter noise it made when it hit the ground. But now it just echoed in her hollow body. Another shimmering tear rolled down her pale face, and splashed onto the cushion below her. Misa was surprised that she still could cry after the gallons of tears that had leaked out recently.
Misa unknotted herself and rose gradually to her feet. She pulled a lipstick out of her pocket and applied a deep crimson to her pouting lips in the mirror. Once that was done, she smiled sadly and pulled on her coat over the black, pinstriped dress and stockings she was wearing, fiddling with the fastening on her lacy corset as she did so. Misa was still wearing Gothic Lolita, but she refused to wear anything that wasn’t black now. She was a widow, as far as she was concerned – even if she and Light hadn’t managed to get married before his death…
Outside, Misa walked to the bridge in the centre of town, letting herself get soaked in the meantime. Everywhere she looked was desolate, and she settled down on the abandoned bridge, sitting on the edge with her legs dangling over the side. She thought back to the first day she had met Light, and smiled a little. His brown hair playing softly over his face, the serious expression of fierce and absolute concentration carved into his angelic features, the justice fuelled thoughts that she knew were bouncing around in his head…
Without realising, Misa had stood up again. She buttoned up her coat to protect against the sharp, bitter wind that was whipping her hair around her face, and drummed her fingernails on the railings gently. Her nails were immaculately manicured; a deep purple nail varnish that was almost black, with a spiralling silver flower on each one. She ran one hand through her long, blonde hair, with fresh highlights and a gentle curl.
Misa looked better on the outside now than she ever had, but inside, she was black and blue. She had to see Light, at least once more, to apologise…If she had followed Light’s plan perfectly, then he wouldn’t have died…right? His plans were always flawless; it had to have been her fault. Misa decided to take things into her own hands – she would be with Light if it killed her. She clambered up onto the hand rail, oblivious to her four inch heels. Looking down into the foamy, dark waters below, she imagined Light’s face, smiling softly. She took a deep breath. And then…she fell.
