Of Gods and Angels

BY : Pseudo Hanyou
Category: Death Note > General
Dragon prints: 1275
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, nor do I make any profit from this fic.

A/N: Wow, I just noticed that this is my first AN to come into this fic. Well, I guess I'll use it to not only thank everyone who has reviewed and waited patiently for this chapter, but also to give a huge THANK YOU to Salomesensei. Without her, this chapter may have never come to fruition. She became, if only for a little while, Misa to my Light, and helped the dialogue along in this chapter. It was much needed.



Chapter 6: Intentions



9:38 p.m. Light had been gone for over two hours, between his meeting with Mikami and a quick stop by headquarters in order to be sure that everything was running "smoothly." He glanced at his watch quickly before sliding the key into the door. He knew that he would have to come up with some reason as to why he was gone for so long. There was no doubt in his mind that Misa had called everywhere possible in order to contact him, if only to tell him that she had arrived home. The six missed messages on his phone assured him of this.


He entered the flat, glancing around to see that Misa's items had been strewn about: Her coat lay thrown over a chair, one black boot rested on the floor next to the sofa, the other out of sight. Really, the girl was quite the slob.

Misa sat at the kitchen table, her mouth in a pout that television cameras would zoom in on with relish to show the beauty of her shiny full bottom lip. But it was not shiny now. She had wiped off the thick gloss an hour ago, when she also removed the eyeliner that had run down her face when she cried over the dinner that had spoiled on the stove as she waited. Now she lifted her face and looked up at Light as he entered the room, looking far too handsome and casual. She would not demand to be told where he was. She would not whine and stamp her feet and tell him how she had dressed for him and made him a lovely dinner and made herself especially beautiful. She would not. Then she did, in a torrent of words for which she was famous among everyone who knew her even the tiniest bit.

"Light!” She burst into a mini-tantrum the moment she heard the lock click on the door, arms flailing at her sides in a nearly comical manner. “Where were you? Misa has been waiting all night! Dinner is ruined!” She gestured towards the kitchen, then towards Light’s pocket, where he usually kept his phone. “You didn't call! You didn't answer your phone!” The words tumbled from her as she brought her thin arms to cross over her chest, her lips formed into an impossible pout. “Don't you love Misa?”

There was silence for a moment while Light assessed the situation. “Light! Answer me! Where were you?"

He cocked a brow as he turned to place his coat in the main closet, sliding the door open while shrugging it off of his shoulders. It was inevitable that he would be greeted with some form of questioning, but this...outburst was more than he had prepared himself for. Sliding out of his shoes, he turned, his face remaining impassive as he began to undo his silk tie. Mikami really did dress beautifully and though he had not been granted the chance to look upon Light, Light was glad that he had chosen to dress for the occasion.

It would have been a shame for him to have been outdone by his follower, in any way.

"Misa." He flashed a winning smile, stretching his arm forward in order to hand her his now removed tie. It was a subtle way of telling her to be quiet and go about her business, but to expect her to take a hint would have been foolish. "Calm yourself. You know I can't always answer my phone. How exactly does that amount to me not loving you?" He crossed the space between the two of them, practically thrusting the tie at her while leaning forward and planting a single, chaste kiss on her temple. "Don't be irrational."

"Light is so cruel to Misa," she muttered, grabbing the tie as if it were precisely what she wanted to do, as opposed to it being an unspoken command. "I am not irrational. Misa's new manager says Misa is the shrewdest client he has ever had.” A smirk played at her lips. “And shrewd Misa wants more than that little kiss." Rising on her toes, she tossed the tie up to loop it around Light's head and down to his waist to pull him in.

Light suppressed a chuckle as he shrugged away from the blonde, taking her hand and leading her over to the large couch they had placed by the window, overlooking the city below. It really didn't take much effort to quiet her, usually, and so he knew it would be simple now. All he wanted was to have his peace and go to bed. Once they reached the sofa, he fell back onto it and pulled her into his lap, ignoring her attempts to turn and kiss him right away. "Misa." Finding the end of a lock of her hair with his right hand, he wrapped his left arm around her waist and held her against him. He slipped the hair through his fingers, nuzzling into her shoulder. "You don't mean that. I'm not cruel."

"Nn, Light..." Misa mewled, immediately overtaken by the contact of his mouth against the fabric of her shirt. "Wait!" She pushed him back and pulled away, staring at him as though she had come upon a great realization. Then, she dove forward again and sniffed his shirt closely. "Why does Light smell like cologne that Misa did not buy him?!"

"I'm sorry?" He was taken aback by her question. Cologne? There was no logical reason that his shirt should have smelled of anything but himself. He'd hardly even touched Mikami, save for when he leaned forward to speak into the man's ear. Of course, it was entirely possible that a bit of Mikami's scent had gotten onto him, but for Misa to have noticed that was amazing, even for her. Though not very bright, the girl was observant when it came to him. "I was at headquarters. I'm sure someone was wearing too much and it got on to me. I was there all day.”

Misa's frown instantly became a smile, her petulance lessening. "Oh, of course. Misa is silly." She launched into his arms and clung, making little sounds of pleasure and contentment.

Light shifted beneath her, allowing her to snuggle close to him, despite the fact that he had no intention of furthering their physical contact. At least not until she re-heated his dinner and allowed him to shower and change. This was one of his best suits. There was no way he was going to potentially damage it without a good cause. "Tell me about something." He started, his eyes wandering to the window and the lights that illuminated the streets below. "How does it feel to have everyone recognize you when you go out? Fame, I mean." Leaning back, he took her chin and tilted her head to meet his, allowing himself a brief swipe of his lips over hers. "Is it...unsettling?

Misa purred at the little kiss and all that it promised for later. How strange, she thought, that he did not want to make love or even have dinner but wanted to...talk instead. That was not like her Light. She cocked her head and pondered the question. "Is Light jealous that Misa is gone on modeling shoots so often? Misa will quit if that is what Light wishes!”

"No, no." Light's head fell back against the back of the sofa. "I'm just curious as to how it feels to be constantly recognized as a public figure. Is it something that you enjoy or does it cause you to not want to be so recognized? For example," He rubbed the small of her back in tiny circles, hoping to coax a verbal response from her, as opposed to a physical one. "If you were to go to Shinjuku for something, does the fame prevent you from being able to do so in a timely manner? What if you had to do something that required you avoid being recognized? Does your fame make it impossible?"

It was clear to him as to why he was inquiring as to these things. Light had gone over it in his mind as to why he felt it was necessary to meet with Mikami in person. The truth was that it wasn’t necessary, at all. Everything said in that room could have been said over the phone, in a less timely manner, ending with him simply hanging up. Not…this. Not him going home to a whining Misa and questioning his own actions.

He had made the conscious decision to meet with the man in person for a single reason: Recognition. For so many years, he had gone on as Kira, with the only ones who knew that Light Yagami and Kira were the same entity dying moments after coming upon the discovery. Misa’s memories were lost to her, and so when she worshipped him, sometimes on her knees, she did so out of adoration for Light Yagami. Not Kira.

He was, essentially, a God with no kingdom. His followers obeyed his ideals, his visions, but the feeling of actually having them, or even one of them on their knees at his feet was currently unobtainable. Yes, the day would come when he could reveal himself to the legions who worshipped him, but until then?

Until then, there was Teru Mikami.

And how delicious it was, to have one so blinded by devotion throwing himself on the carpet, head pressed to the floor, completely at Light’s mercy. Absolute trust, absolute faith. No matter the amount of times in which Light had heard the catch in Mikami’s voice on the other end of the line, the stern assurance that “Kami’s” orders would be carried out as instructed, nothing could have compared to the actual physical interaction between God and his follower.

It was exalting.

Misa giggled as he returned his attention to her and continued to lazily rub her back. He doubted that it truly tickled, but touch did not have to tickle to cause such a reaction in her. It was just...what she did. But he knew he was asking her questions. Too many.

"Misa loves being famous!" she all but squeaked, leaning back against him. "Signing autographs, getting presents, everyone calling out her name! Misa- Misa! Misa-Misa!" She chanted, her voice no more irritating than it had been only moments ago, though it had gone up an octave. "Does Light love his famous Misa?"

"Of course, Misa." Light brought his arm from around her waist and rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Realizing that this was going to be more fruitless than he had previously assumed, he hoisted her off of his lap and rose, stretching and pointedly walking away from her. He needed silence. He needed to think, to come to an absolute conclusion as to why exactly he had found it necessary to meet with Mikami, why he had overlooked the obvious danger in doing so. Though Light had every means with which to protect himself, it still was now, in the aftermath, striking him as an extremely foolish thing to have done.

Misa, obviously, was going to be of no help when it came this matter.


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