Faye (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
said_scarlett) wrote2007-09-11 08:57 pm
said_scarlett) wrote2007-09-11 08:57 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: A Kinder Friend No Woman Has; Matsuda/Misa; PG-13
Title: A Kinder Friend No Woman Has
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: Hints of Matsuda/Misa
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Full series spoilers
Word Count: 1,427
Summary: Misa clung to the only safe and familiar thing that was left to her. Even if a part of her could never completely forgive.
Routines were a funny thing. Misa didn’t have one of her own, but she could set her watch by his. It had been nearly a year, and nothing had changed. She moved through life like a ghost, eyes unfocused and mind wandering. And everyday he came, at three o’clock. He always knocked and waited for her to give him leave to enter.
She never bothered to lock the door.
He’d come every single day since he first told her. In the beginning he fixed her tea and sat with her and asked if she was alright. She never answered him, and only sipped at the tea. It tasted bitter to her now, no matter how sweet he made it.
Now he made her dinner. And sat with her and urged her to eat. And there were hollows under his eyes and he stared at her with a look that was half concern and half guilt. And he smiled. No matter what, he smiled.
He was so nice. That was the worst of it. He was earnest and kind and he tidied her apartment and fed her bird and fixed her meals…. She couldn’t bring herself to be angry with him. Even though….
Misa clutched her hands in her lap.
“Come in, Matsuda-san.”
And there he was, talking rapidly and setting down bags of groceries and Misa hardly heard a word that he said. She stared down into her lap instead. A part of her wanted to scream at him, to throw things at him, to tell him to get out…
But a part of her wanted this. She wanted to be taken care of, she wanted to be cared for. And Matsuda took care of her. He was making her dinner already, pots and pans rattling around in the kitchen. She'd yelled and raged at him in the beginning and ignored him in later months, but now he was a familiar presence. The only familiar and comfortable thing Misa had left in her life.
She wished she could completely forgive him.
“…Misa-chan?”
“Hn?” He had asked her a question. She hadn’t heard. She looked up, her eyes blank as she tried to focus on him. She did speak to him when he came to visit, though they didn’t laugh and joke like they’d used to.
Misa missed laughing and joking with him.
“Do you like curry croquettes, Misa-chan?”
“Oh. That’s fine.” She went back to looking at her hands. Noises came from the kitchen but her mind was elsewhere. This was what she wanted, but… it was supposed to be Light who came through that door every day. It was supposed to be Light who talked to her and tried to lift her spirits when she was down and helped around the house….
But Light was gone.
Misa’s hands hurt, they were twisted together so tightly. It wasn’t fair! All she had wanted was Light, and Light to love her and even that one small thing had been taken from her. She had nothing left that mattered to her. Even after so very long, she felt empty and lost.
“Hey, Misa-chan.”
Once more Misa forced herself to look up. Matsuda had sat down beside her. He turned on the television and smiled. He always smiled, but it didn’t really reach his eyes anymore. Misa remembered when he smiled with his whole body.
She missed that. She missed so much.
“I want things back the way they were,” she said. There was no tone in her voice as she spoke the words. She couldn’t even manage sadness anymore. She was simply empty, a weary apathy settling over her soul.
The television was nothing but background noise.
“Me too,” Matsuda responded. “Misa-chan, I’m….”
“Don’t!”
She’d heard enough apologies from him over the year. She was sick of apologies. His saying he was sorry wouldn’t bring Light back. It would only remind her of what was missing.
As though she needed anymore reminders. Every morning was a reminder. Every minute that she lived without Light was a reminder. She was sick of reminders. Sometimes, she wished she could just forget everything. If she didn’t remember, it couldn’t hurt anymore.
“Okay.” Matsuda nodded, flipping through the stations on the television. It was always a good distraction, so they didn’t have to speak. “Ah, there’s never anything good on during the day!”
“I like this program.” Misa twined a lock of her limp blond hair around her finger. It had long since lost its shine. “But I haven’t watched it in months. I don‘t even recognize these people. Hn. Misa-chan is much prettier than her.”
“Oh. Well, there’s no point in watching it then, yeah? I know! I could run down to the video store after I put dinner in the oven, rent us a movie. What do you say, Misa-chan? Want to get a movie?”
Dinner and a movie. Misa had to stifle a sudden, hysterical laugh. She covered her mouth with her hands and her shoulders shook and before she knew it Matsuda had his arm around her and she couldn’t stop trembling….
“I’m okay.” Misa pulled away, wiping at her eyes. She didn’t know if she was crying from grief or hysteria. She didn’t care. Matsuda’s hand was on her shoulder still and he was looking at her with such concern… his whole body was concerned. It wasn’t as nice as when his whole body smiled.
“You can go get a movie,” she said, finally, dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. “But get something good.”
“I’ll do my best!”
Misa waited, sitting on the couch. It was funny how much emptier the apartment seemed all of a sudden. She sighed and bit at her thumbnail and stood up. She took down two plates and set them on the counter. She went into the bathroom and brushed her hair. Her reflection was foreign to her. Her cheeks were hollow and her eyes were empty and her hair hung limp and dull down to her shoulders. She looked like she had some terminal disease.
Was a broken heart an illness? She splashed water on her face and frowned, hating her reflection. She wasn’t beautiful anymore.
The television was still on when Misa sat back down on the couch. That girl on the television… she was prettier than Misa. She heard Matsuda on the steps outside, and this time he didn’t knock.
“Misa-chan! I got us a comedy. That’s okay, right? I just thought we could both use a laugh and I remember you liked comedies….”
“Thank you.”
She watched him now, her eyes lifted. He checked the oven and put a pot of water on the stove to boil and then put the DVD in the machine and dropped back down onto the couch. Misa pulled her legs up under her and leaned back against the cushions. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d watched anything. Or paid attention to anything. She just didn’t seem to have any desire for anything. But she tried. She fiddled with her skirt and bit at her lower lip and kept her eyes on the screen - except when Matsuda got up to check on dinner.
They sat on the couch watching the movie as the croquettes cooked and the things on the stove boiled. Misa could smell them already. The smells of cooking made the apartment feel as though it were lived in. So did Matsuda’s presence, all through the apartment.
Light was gone, but Matsuda was here. Had been here every single day. No matter what, he came to see her and to take care of her and to make sure she was alright. And he never even cared that she never said thank you or showed him any appreciation at all.
She knew how horrible that felt.
Maybe if enough of her could forgive him... the rest of her could just ignore it. She had long ago learned to ignore things she didn't want to deal with.
“Dinner smells good,” Misa said, her eyes still on the television screen. She clutched her skirt, opening and closing her fingers.
“Oh, really? Thank you, Misa-chan! I hope you like it! You should tell me what you like, so I can make you your favorite.” And there was a smile in Matsuda’s voice, and he threw an arm over the back of the couch. Misa bit her lower lip harder. It did smell good, but not the scent of food itself. She didn’t care about the food, but the way the apartment smelled as though someone real lived there. Right now, with Matsuda over and dinner cooking and the two of them sitting together watching a DVD like two normal people… It felt just a touch less empty than the rest of the day. Just a bit more normal.
And it maybe it would make the long, empty night just a bit more bearable.
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: Hints of Matsuda/Misa
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Full series spoilers
Word Count: 1,427
Summary: Misa clung to the only safe and familiar thing that was left to her. Even if a part of her could never completely forgive.
Routines were a funny thing. Misa didn’t have one of her own, but she could set her watch by his. It had been nearly a year, and nothing had changed. She moved through life like a ghost, eyes unfocused and mind wandering. And everyday he came, at three o’clock. He always knocked and waited for her to give him leave to enter.
She never bothered to lock the door.
He’d come every single day since he first told her. In the beginning he fixed her tea and sat with her and asked if she was alright. She never answered him, and only sipped at the tea. It tasted bitter to her now, no matter how sweet he made it.
Now he made her dinner. And sat with her and urged her to eat. And there were hollows under his eyes and he stared at her with a look that was half concern and half guilt. And he smiled. No matter what, he smiled.
He was so nice. That was the worst of it. He was earnest and kind and he tidied her apartment and fed her bird and fixed her meals…. She couldn’t bring herself to be angry with him. Even though….
Misa clutched her hands in her lap.
“Come in, Matsuda-san.”
And there he was, talking rapidly and setting down bags of groceries and Misa hardly heard a word that he said. She stared down into her lap instead. A part of her wanted to scream at him, to throw things at him, to tell him to get out…
But a part of her wanted this. She wanted to be taken care of, she wanted to be cared for. And Matsuda took care of her. He was making her dinner already, pots and pans rattling around in the kitchen. She'd yelled and raged at him in the beginning and ignored him in later months, but now he was a familiar presence. The only familiar and comfortable thing Misa had left in her life.
She wished she could completely forgive him.
“…Misa-chan?”
“Hn?” He had asked her a question. She hadn’t heard. She looked up, her eyes blank as she tried to focus on him. She did speak to him when he came to visit, though they didn’t laugh and joke like they’d used to.
Misa missed laughing and joking with him.
“Do you like curry croquettes, Misa-chan?”
“Oh. That’s fine.” She went back to looking at her hands. Noises came from the kitchen but her mind was elsewhere. This was what she wanted, but… it was supposed to be Light who came through that door every day. It was supposed to be Light who talked to her and tried to lift her spirits when she was down and helped around the house….
But Light was gone.
Misa’s hands hurt, they were twisted together so tightly. It wasn’t fair! All she had wanted was Light, and Light to love her and even that one small thing had been taken from her. She had nothing left that mattered to her. Even after so very long, she felt empty and lost.
“Hey, Misa-chan.”
Once more Misa forced herself to look up. Matsuda had sat down beside her. He turned on the television and smiled. He always smiled, but it didn’t really reach his eyes anymore. Misa remembered when he smiled with his whole body.
She missed that. She missed so much.
“I want things back the way they were,” she said. There was no tone in her voice as she spoke the words. She couldn’t even manage sadness anymore. She was simply empty, a weary apathy settling over her soul.
The television was nothing but background noise.
“Me too,” Matsuda responded. “Misa-chan, I’m….”
“Don’t!”
She’d heard enough apologies from him over the year. She was sick of apologies. His saying he was sorry wouldn’t bring Light back. It would only remind her of what was missing.
As though she needed anymore reminders. Every morning was a reminder. Every minute that she lived without Light was a reminder. She was sick of reminders. Sometimes, she wished she could just forget everything. If she didn’t remember, it couldn’t hurt anymore.
“Okay.” Matsuda nodded, flipping through the stations on the television. It was always a good distraction, so they didn’t have to speak. “Ah, there’s never anything good on during the day!”
“I like this program.” Misa twined a lock of her limp blond hair around her finger. It had long since lost its shine. “But I haven’t watched it in months. I don‘t even recognize these people. Hn. Misa-chan is much prettier than her.”
“Oh. Well, there’s no point in watching it then, yeah? I know! I could run down to the video store after I put dinner in the oven, rent us a movie. What do you say, Misa-chan? Want to get a movie?”
Dinner and a movie. Misa had to stifle a sudden, hysterical laugh. She covered her mouth with her hands and her shoulders shook and before she knew it Matsuda had his arm around her and she couldn’t stop trembling….
“I’m okay.” Misa pulled away, wiping at her eyes. She didn’t know if she was crying from grief or hysteria. She didn’t care. Matsuda’s hand was on her shoulder still and he was looking at her with such concern… his whole body was concerned. It wasn’t as nice as when his whole body smiled.
“You can go get a movie,” she said, finally, dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. “But get something good.”
“I’ll do my best!”
Misa waited, sitting on the couch. It was funny how much emptier the apartment seemed all of a sudden. She sighed and bit at her thumbnail and stood up. She took down two plates and set them on the counter. She went into the bathroom and brushed her hair. Her reflection was foreign to her. Her cheeks were hollow and her eyes were empty and her hair hung limp and dull down to her shoulders. She looked like she had some terminal disease.
Was a broken heart an illness? She splashed water on her face and frowned, hating her reflection. She wasn’t beautiful anymore.
The television was still on when Misa sat back down on the couch. That girl on the television… she was prettier than Misa. She heard Matsuda on the steps outside, and this time he didn’t knock.
“Misa-chan! I got us a comedy. That’s okay, right? I just thought we could both use a laugh and I remember you liked comedies….”
“Thank you.”
She watched him now, her eyes lifted. He checked the oven and put a pot of water on the stove to boil and then put the DVD in the machine and dropped back down onto the couch. Misa pulled her legs up under her and leaned back against the cushions. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d watched anything. Or paid attention to anything. She just didn’t seem to have any desire for anything. But she tried. She fiddled with her skirt and bit at her lower lip and kept her eyes on the screen - except when Matsuda got up to check on dinner.
They sat on the couch watching the movie as the croquettes cooked and the things on the stove boiled. Misa could smell them already. The smells of cooking made the apartment feel as though it were lived in. So did Matsuda’s presence, all through the apartment.
Light was gone, but Matsuda was here. Had been here every single day. No matter what, he came to see her and to take care of her and to make sure she was alright. And he never even cared that she never said thank you or showed him any appreciation at all.
She knew how horrible that felt.
Maybe if enough of her could forgive him... the rest of her could just ignore it. She had long ago learned to ignore things she didn't want to deal with.
“Dinner smells good,” Misa said, her eyes still on the television screen. She clutched her skirt, opening and closing her fingers.
“Oh, really? Thank you, Misa-chan! I hope you like it! You should tell me what you like, so I can make you your favorite.” And there was a smile in Matsuda’s voice, and he threw an arm over the back of the couch. Misa bit her lower lip harder. It did smell good, but not the scent of food itself. She didn’t care about the food, but the way the apartment smelled as though someone real lived there. Right now, with Matsuda over and dinner cooking and the two of them sitting together watching a DVD like two normal people… It felt just a touch less empty than the rest of the day. Just a bit more normal.
And it maybe it would make the long, empty night just a bit more bearable.
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Really, really good job. :-)
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