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If Misa weren’t a model, I imagine she’d still stand out in some remarkable way. She’d be that stunning young scientist or medical professional everyone admires. Without the Second Kira path, I can see her becoming a well-known doctor or researcher—someone who devotes her life to helping others.
She has a natural talent for loving and caring for people, and that’s exactly what would catch his attention first. Her bright, fireary-like personality paired with that genuinely warm heart would draw him in before he even understands why.
I picture him first seeing her on the news—maybe a segment about the hospital she works at, showing her comforting a patient or speaking with the press. He feels strangely intrigued, unsettled by his attraction to her even, because he can’t logically explain his interest. So, in true L fashion, he decides to investigate… by deliberately injuring himself just enough to be brought to her hospital.
With a little “help” from his older sister, Naomi Misora, he ends up hurt worse than planned. Now he’s confined to one of the large, pristine private rooms reserved for wealthy clients. Injured, irritable, and oddly determined, he only has one request: he wants to see Ms. Misa—no other doctor will do.
L lost consciousness shortly after insisting on his request. When he finally woke again—deep in the quiet hours of the night, he became aware of the soft pressure of bandages wrapped around his torso. The room was dim and the air still. He tried to push himself upright, but before he could, a gentle hand pressed against his chest.
Ms. Misa: the very person he’d asked for, was standing beside him.
“Sir,” she murmured softly, her voice warm but weary, “you need to stay lying down for the rest of the night.”
She offered him a small, tired smile, the kind that somehow made the sterile hospital room lights feel less cold.
The moment L truly saw her—her delicate face, the golden warmth in her expression, the softness of her hand steadying him, something unfamiliar bloomed in him. A strange, sudden rush of emotion he’d never learned how to process.
It was innocent, startling, almost puppy-like. Like experiencing affection for the very first time. He didn’t understand it, didn’t know how to name it, but he knew one thing with absolute certainty:
he wanted her to keep her hand exactly where it was.
Misa’s perspective:
It had been a long, exhausting day—checking on patients, performing two surgeries, and stopping by the children’s ward to read bedtime stories. By the time she reached the final room on her chart, she could barely feel her legs.
“Hideki Ryuga…” she mumbled to herself, blinking at the name. “Like… the pop star?”
Still confused, she pushed open the door to the private suite and found an unfamiliar young man unconscious on the bed. Despite her fatigue, she spent hours tending to him: cleaning wounds, adjusting bandages, and calming his fever until his breathing softened.
At some point, she allowed herself a moment just to look at him.
“Your face is so… unique,” she whispered softly, brushing her fingertips against his cheek with curiosity rather than intrusion.
“I’ve never seen someone like you come through here… a foreigner, maybe?”
She gently lifted a lock of his dark, messy hair away from his eyes, feeling strangely captivated by his features.
Before she could pull her hand back, he stirred. His breath hitched, eyelids fluttering.
Instinctively, Misa placed her hand against his heart to steady him.
“You need to stay down… and rest,” she murmured, her voice soft and reassuring, as if she’d been waiting all night just to tell him that.
L wasn’t used to this—any of this.
His entire life had been carefully managed: Watari handled his routines, his meals, even most of his human interactions. On the rare occasions he saw his sister Naomi or her fiancé Raye, it was brief, businesslike, and never physical. Touch simply wasn’t part of his world. He had learned to live without it, to ignore the absence of warmth, to pretend that skin-to-skin contact didn’t matter.
But now, lying in this hospital bed with Ms. Misa’s gentle hands tending to him, something shifted. The way she touched him lightly, carefully, it made him feel strangely anchored to the moment in a way he didn’t understand. Her presence made the room feel warmer. Her voice made his pulse loosen.
And for the first time in a long time, he felt grounded. He didn’t quite know how to process that sensation, but he knew he didn’t want it to disappear.
Quietly, L obeyed her instruction. He stayed lying down, his body wrapped in bandages almost everywhere except his face. The dull ache in his ribs pulsed in time with his heartbeat, but he didn’t complain. Pain was nothing compared to the strange new feeling bubbling in his chest.
He tilted his head ever so slightly to watch her more closely. The soft hospital lighting made her blonde hair seem almost golden. She leaned forward over his bedside, checking one of his splints and adjusting the strap with practiced hands.
“In a few weeks, you’ll be okay,” she said gently, offering him another one of those small, reassuring smiles. “I suggest you stay put for now, alright?”
Her hand brushed his arm one last time, then pulled away as she finished her work. She turned toward the door, ready to leave for the night, her long day finally catching up to her.
Just as her hand touched the doorknob, she heard his voice, quiet, but urgent enough to stop her steps.“Hey… wait!” L blurted out, lifting his head slightly despite the discomfort.
She turned, surprised, her brows raised.
He swallowed, then continued, his voice softer this time. “I wanted to thank you,” he said, sincerity coloring his usually flat tone. “For caring for me.”
A faint, shy smile tugged at his llip,,almost boyish.
“And I… also wanted to ask if… once I’m better, and if you’re available… maybe we could go out for drinks?” He hesitated, then added with awkward earnestness, “Maybe… a milkshake?”
For a moment, Misa simply stared at him. Then she let out a light laugh, covering her mouth in surprise. Was he serious? A patient wrapped head-to-toe in bandages asking her out?
She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe, amusement in her eyes.
“Haha… sure,” she said, still smiling. “I’d love to. You’re bold, you know—asking me that while you’re completely bandaged up.”
L couldn’t help but chuckle softly, the sound warm and genuine.
“I look forward to it… Doctor,” he said, his eyes following her as she finally slipped out of the room.
And even after she left, the small smile remained on his face.