by Tari Gwaemir
"A school of morality."

"You're late," Misa greeted him at the door, with a pout on her pretty lips. She was dressed in an excess of black lace and silver jewelry, as usual.

"Kitazawa-senpai invited me to a drink after the meeting," Light replied casually, bringing one hand up to scratch behind his neck. Misa noted the faint smudge of pink on his otherwise immaculate collar; she was observant about matters like these, matters that concerned him. He brushed by her as he went to hang up his blazer, and she could almost recognize the brand of perfume that still lingered faintly on his shirt. Chanel, classic yet expensive. How unimaginative. Those spoiled Touou princesses--

"Who was it this time? Sawada? Mikami? Or, perhaps, your fond little lapdog, Kaneko-chan?" She smiled knowingly when Light gave her a quizzical glance. He never bothered to hide the marks of his liaisons from her, and perversely, Misa found it reassuring: Light was too clever after all to let her discover an affair he took seriously.

She draped her bare arms around his shoulders as he sat down at his desk, placing her soft plump cheek against his. "Who was it, Light-san?"

"No one you know. A friend of Kitazawa's latest girl, I think," Light said distractedly as he studied the computer screen.

"Oh." Misa smiled but curled one manicured nail deep into her palm, where she had traced the names of Light's numerous flings one by one. She had memorized each syllable obsessively, writing them over and over like lines of beloved poetry in the pages of a small black notebook, one whose sleek lined pages reminded her of the Death Note.

Light, sensing the sudden tension in her arms, paused for a second to ask, "You're not upset, are you?"

"Of course not! Light chose Misa, no? It is Misa who will stand at Light's side when he rules the new world." She kissed his cheek but he did not seem to notice. She whispered, almost silently, next to his ear, "Light chose Misa, not Sawada or Mikami or Kaneko or any of those nameless little sluts--"

He sighed impatiently. "Be patient, Misa. We must do what is necessary."

"Misa knows," she said, her eyes gazing at the meaningless characters on the screen. "For justice."

"Yes, justice," he murmured and shrugged off her arms.


Death Note belongs to Obata Takeshi and Ooba Tsugumi.

Written for 31_days (August 2nd theme). Dedicated to Sonya (sub_divided), who writes Death Note fanfiction that always makes me think.