Fate's Deception

Just An Illusion

A knock at the door shattered the silence, jarring Light from his reverie. Sayu, thinking it was their father, rushed to answer it. Light heard the muffled exchange from the top of the stairs, curiosity piquing when he realized the visitor wasn't who they expected.

"Light! Someone named Misa is here to see you," Sayu called out, her voice tinged with confusion. "She says you forgot your book at the university."

"Let her know I'll be right there," Light responded, masking the sudden urgency in his chest. He descended the stairs swiftly, stepping outside to confront the unexpected guest.

"Who are you?" Light demanded, his gaze piercing through the darkness to meet Misa's eyes.

"Hi, light-kun. I'm Misa Amane," she replied cheerfully, extending the object in question toward him. "You left this behind, and I thought I should return it."

"Thanks," he said, taking the book and scrutinizing her closely. "But how did you find me?"

With a sly smile, she touched his hand, a gesture seemingly innocent yet laden with intent. In that instant, the world shifted, and Rem, a second Shinigami, appeared before him, confirming Misa's true identity — the second Kira. "Interesting," Light murmured, masking the turmoil within with a practiced smile. "Very interesting."

"Please, come in," Light said with a practiced calmness, stepping aside to allow Misa Amane entry into his home. He caught his mother's eye as they passed the living room, quickly signaling his need for discretion. "Mom, could you make some tea for us?"

Mrs. Yagami's eyes darted between her son and the girl with an uneasy curiosity. Sayu, too, hovered nearby with a frown furrowing her brow. "Upstairs? But isn't Shinoska—"

"Tea, please," Light interrupted with an assertive smile that brooked no argument. As he led Misa upstairs, he could feel the weight of their gazes, filled with questions and concern.

They ascended, the silence between them thick with unspoken questions. Once inside his room, he closed the door behind them, creating a private sanctuary away from prying eyes. Light motioned for Misa to take a seat in his chair, then leaned against his desk, arms folded across his chest.

"How did you find me?" he asked, his tone even but authoritative.

Misa's eyes sparkled with a dangerous kind of adoration. "I have my ways," she said coyly. "And I want to be your eyes, Light-kun. Your girlfriend, too." Her voice was earnest, almost pleading.

Light's thoughts raced to Shinoska, her image a stark contrast to the girl before him. If Misa knew the truth behind his actions, if she sensed any manipulation, he was certain she would retaliate. But the thought of Shinoska discovering this encounter was even more unbearable. He had to tread carefully.

"Your offer is... generous, Misa," Light began, his voice measured as he declined, "but I can't accept it."

Misa's face twisted from one of hope to anger in an instant. "I don't care if you use me!" she spat out, her hands balling into fists. "Here, hold my Death Note. It'll prove I won't kill you." She glared at him fiercely. "And the girl you were with today... If she's your girlfriend, I'll kill her."

Anger flared within him, immediate and sharp. "You will do no such thing," he snapped, his voice cold and commanding. He stood over her, the threat clear in his stance. "Lay a finger on Shinoska, and I'll ensure you either end up caught or dead."

Tears welled up in Misa's eyes as her demeanor crumbled. "I just want to be yours," she whimpered, her defiance dissolving into desperation.

Light felt revulsion twist in his gut; her lack of morals was appalling. Yet, in her tearful vulnerability, he saw the tool he needed. Gently, he pulled her into a hug, a hollow gesture meant to pacify and manipulate. "I can't be your boyfriend," he whispered, feeling her body shake with sobs against his chest. "But let's pretend, for now."

"Really?" she sniffled, looking up at him with a mixture of gratitude and affection. "I'll do anything for you, Light-kun. I'll make you love me."

The thought made him inwardly recoil. Impossible. His heart already belonged to someone else, someone pure and untainted by the darkness that clung to Misa like a second skin. As she left his embrace, he maintained a mask of composure, all the while ruminating on his disgust and annoyance. The most important thing was keeping Shinoska in the dark; losing her would be the true catastrophe.

As she exited the room later, Light sat in the darkness, alone with his thoughts. The taste of the charade left a bitter residue. How impossible it was, the idea of any true affection developing between them. His heart belonged elsewhere, and the thought of Shinoska discovering this deceit was unbearable.

He would use Misa Amane, yes, but he had to keep Shinoska in the dark. For losing her was a price too steep—even for Kira.

He reached for his phone, its weight familiar in his hand as he dialed Shinoska's number. The line buzzed in his ear, each ring slicing through the heavy silence left in Misa's wake. The phone rang once, twice, before her voice, warm and unsuspecting, answered.

"Shinoska," Light began, his tone softer than he'd intended.

"Light? Is everything okay?" There was a tinge of sleep in her tone, reminding him of how late it had become.

"Hey," he started, his voice softer than he intended, the tiredness fraying its edges. "could you come over? I know it hasn't been long since you left, but..." He hesitated, the truth too vulnerable to voice. "I just... I miss you."

There was a pause—a hesitation on her end—and for a fraction of a second, Light feared he had asked too much. Then she replied, her words brushing against his ear like a soothing balm, "Of course, Light. I'll be there soon."

"Thank you," he murmured, closing his eyes as he envisioned her presence enveloping him, erasing the memory of Misa's desperate pleas.

He hung up, the confirmation settling in his chest like an anchor. Shinoska's presence was the antidote to the poison that Misa represented; she was clarity amidst the smog of duplicity that filled his life.

As he paced back to his room, his thoughts lingered on the stark contrast between the two women. Misa was a noose around his neck, a necessary evil, while Shinoska was the reprieve he yearned for in the quiet moments when the weight of his double life bore down on him.

He flicked on his desk lamp, casting a warm glow across the room. It bathed the space in a soft light that pushed away the shadows and, for a moment, also the darkness that lingered in the corners of his mind.

Seated at his desk, he buried his face in his hands, elbows pressing into the wood. The echo of Misa's tearful pleas merged with the memory of Shinoska's laughter earlier in the day; one elicited revulsion, the other a longing so profound it left an ache in his bones.

"Make me forget," he whispered to the empty room, a plea to the universe or perhaps to Shinoska herself. His heart clung to the promise of her arrival, to the notion of sanctuary in her embrace, where the twisted realities he navigated could dissolve, even if only for a fleeting night.