Note: This is the first fanfic that I've written in a while, and it came after I stumbled upon a few drabbles. For the first time in a while I felt inspired. After finishing the manga and anime, I couldn't help but wonder if there was any part of Light that did love her. This is my solution. I felt pretty…great after writing this, and I hope you do too!
Nobody thought he could love. Certainly not him. She was supposed to be a pawn. Useless. Something he could just throw away.
From the beginning, she had always had some kind of sick devotion to him. She called it love. He would say it was obsession. Yet, he had been used to that kind of behavior from girls. He almost expected it. They were supposed to fall at his feet, and he was supposed to keep them on the side and pull them out whenever he needed them.
He began needing her all too much.
He told himself it was because she was the Second Kira. That it was because she was valuable- she had the eyes.
But that didn't explain why he found himself stealing looks at her, at those foolish smiles on her face as she leaned on her elbows, dutifully doing whatever work he had assigned her.
It didn't explain why, for the first time since he had discovered the notebook, he felt happy.
Changing the world did please him. But it simply pleased him. It did not make him smile.
She made him smile, if only in his own privacy.
This was not part of the plan.
He was not supposed to be some lovesick fool.
He was never supposed to be in love.
It had first occurred to him, that he loved her, when he woke up in the middle of the night to find that she had found a way to sneak under his arm and snuggle against him. He wasn't surprised. She had always tried to find ways to increase their physical contact.
Ordinarily, he would simply remove his arm and shift so that his back faced her.
What made this time different was that, before he had even comprehended the situation, he pulled her closer to him. He felt something stir in him; he felt content. She fit into him perfectly, he noted. We are perfect together.
But he was not supposed to love her. He was not supposed to make attachments.
For the first time in his life, he did not know what to do.
Foolishly, he tried to fall out of love with her.
She is an idiot, he told himself. She is too vain and too childish. She is ridiculous.
Yet none of these reasons dissuaded him from wanting to look at that smile.
The years passed. He expected time would solve his problem.
It did not. If anything, it made his love for her grow.
He had certainly experienced puberty in high school. But none of the sexual desires his friends seemed to experience had affected him. His female classmates were simply that: classmates.
So when he found himself staring at her body hungrily, he was momentarily confused. He did not understand the lust he felt for her, the need to kiss every part of her body.
He followed his instinct and did what his body told him. He found himself in bed, next to his naked girlfriend, having made love with her. He was amazed.
When the time came for him to seduce Takada, he was thoroughly uncomfortable, even if it had been his own plan. It would be expected that Takada would have been the perfect match for him. He learned that nothing was what he expected anymore.
He pushed aside his love for her in order to advance Kira's plans.
He began wondering how important being Kira was.
He ached for her presence as he wrote his notes to Takada. He found himself thinking of what she was doing, if she was eating well, and whether or not she missed him. Takada's cold, though beautiful, smile was not enough.
He was slightly amused when he found that had no trouble killing off Takada. In fact, he was almost relieved. Now he could go home to the presence of his lingerie clad fiancé.
Yet his time was running out.
His confrontation with Near came too quickly and he was much too confident.
He had never even considered that he would lose. That there was anybody left who could possibly outsmart him.
She had loved his confidence.
He had run for her. Death was soon approaching, he knew, but he could not die without telling her the truth.
He didn't make it.
As he lied on his back, breathing for the last time, he closed his eyes and smiled, thinking of her golden hair and innocent eyes.
"I love you, Misa."
She turned her head at the sound of a faint voice. The wind chimes sang a light and airy song, and she accepted that she was simply hearing things, that it was just the wind.
But as she prepared their dinner, she found herself whispering,
"I love you too, Light."