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sunmoonandspoonTitle: Leaf
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
speaky_bean
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Teru, Light, Kiyomi, Misa, Rem, Ryuk, and several OCs. Misa/Light, Teru/Kiyomi.
Warnings: This fic is written in second person. Some people find this irritating, so I'm warning for it.
Word Count: 7,083
Notes: I've been meaning to write this fic for a very long time. It's an AU in which Kira won. Light and Misa are married with four daughters, and Kiyomi and Teru are married with a girl and a boy. In this story, Teru struggles with his devotion to God (Light) in relation to his duty to himself and his family. His God is very demanding, and his son is anti-Kira...so things aren't exactly easy for him.
This fic is dedicated to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
viola_canina...if I remember correctly, she's partially to blame for this idea. It's also written for prompt #18 at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
dn_contest, umbrella.
You had not thought that the Mikami family would ever mean anything but you, sitting alone at your desk scrawling names (and getting carried away sometimes, leaping up and screaming with the utter joy that comes from serving God). It had once, when it was you and your mother, but that wasn't a family, not really. You didn't understand each other. Now, you never will.
You don't know if you and Kiyomi understand each other either. She believes in Kira with the same fervor and passion that you do, (okay, so she doesn't get wild-eyed and sweaty at the mere thought of him) but she doesn't understand why dinner must happen at eight on the dot (she comes home at 7:30 and you cook, not her, so this shouldn't ever be a problem) or why the house must always be spotlessly clean (she doesn't like cleaning, and calls you neurotic when you work any harder than she does, so you started faking dust allergies to explain yourself. Now she thinks you're a whiny hypochondriac, too) but whether you understand each other or not, you're bound together by Kira's word. Maybe you're just children playing house, but your dolls are real children, your plastic dishes are ceramic, and your playroom is a brick house on its third mortgage, perched high on a hill in Yokohama. And your god is not some faceless sky-high deity, he's a flesh-and-blood man who lives in Tokyo with his own wife and children.
Your world is as concrete and stable as you always wanted it to be. You tell yourself this every day.
---------
Kiyomi is lying sprawled across your shared bed, arms stretched out and knees sticking in opposite directions. Her underwear on uncomfortable display. You think about touching her, wonder whether or not her open legs are an invitation. Wonder whether you have enough antibacterial soap to make such a thing acceptable. But Kiyomi asks you why you haven't been taking on as many cases lately. Her meticulously plucked eyebrows are lowered in anger, and you're not sure how to explain this. It's obvious to you, and you don't know why she doesn't understand. "Kiyomi," you say, sitting ramrod straight on the bed. "Is that a serious question?"
Her lipstick is so badly smeared that it looks like blood, and this sets you on edge. You wish you hadn't said anything, but it's too late now. All you can do is wait for her to speak.
When she finally does it begins with a derisive snort. "Of course it's a serious question. Your paycheck is laughable compared to what it used to be, and we have a lot of bills to pay. We also have to buy Hikari a new school uniform, and we have to buy groceries and refill Tsuki's prescriptions. Life costs money, so tell me Teru, why is it that you aren't working hard anymore? Do you want to put your family out on the streets?"
You laugh, though you don't think this is funny at all. You're angry with Kiyomi for being so stupid, because she usually isn't, because you don't like broken patterns. "Crime is nearly nonexistent now," you say. "Prosecuting attorneys are hardly needed these days, because there's nobody to prosecute. There just isn't a lot of work for me to do."
"So take a part time job," she says, flicking a piece of lint from her tee shirt. You try not to think about where that filth went, or what germs it's most likely coated in. You imagine yourself getting horribly sick, and suddenly you hate Kiyomi. And you wish you didn't, because who hates their wife for flicking lint off her tee shirt? You decide to ignore it, respond instead to the bit about the part time job.
"I can't," you say. "That wouldn't leave me with enough time to do God's work. Besides, God will take care of us. I'm sure that He knew that a crime-free world would make my job irrelevant, and I'm sure He's made provisions. We are His loyal servants, He wouldn't let us starve. Besides, it's not as if you don't make any money at your job."
"These days I hardly make anything. I'm working directly under Light now, and he keeps randomly replacing me with Misa, and neglecting to pay me. He just takes it for granted that I'll gladly be his spokeswoman without any compensation." She groans, and when you tell her that she should be glad to help God she groans again. "Teru," she says, clutching her stomach and stroking it. "We really do need money. I need you to understand that. I don't know why you don't, I mean, you were poor as a kid. But anyway, look Teru." She grabs your hand then, crowds your huge bony fingers into the spaces between her small and plump ones. Guides it to her stomach, and even though you've made love to this woman you nearly die of embarrassment. "We're going to have another baby," she whispers. Like this is a secret or something.
"Oh," you say. "I see."
---------
Apparently, it is a secret. The next day, while you are checking a speech God wrote for spelling errors, Kiyomi asks you not to mention it to Him just yet. "You see," she says, "he wanted Misa and I to be pregnant simultaneously, with his children. He thinks it's really important that he have a son, and he wants to increase his chances. Y-carrying sperm are slightly more fragile, and he thinks that Misa's…environment might be too acidic." You're blushing at this and you don't even know why.
"I see," you say, angrily tapping your pen on the kitchen counter. Eight, nine, ten times, and then you stop. "So was this an accident, or did you deliberately defy God's orders?"
"They weren't orders, and his theory about Misa is probably bullshit. She can have a son just as easily as I can, she just hasn't yet. Besides, there's nothing wrong with daughters." You push your hair to the side to glare more effectively. Kiyomi laughs briefly at this and then turns abruptly serious. "Teru," she says, "I don't want to have Light's baby! I thought I would, but after thinking it over I realized that he'd just take the kid and raise it as it as his own! I don't want to go through nine months of pregnancy and the pain of labor just to have my baby stolen from me! Don't you understand that?"
The part of you that understands is small and frail compared to the part that worships Kira unconditionally. You tell your wife that you think she should get an abortion, and then correct a misplaced semicolon in God's speech.
---------
"Hey, Dad?"
You do not look up from your cereal until you've taken one more spoonful. To stop on bite twenty-three would be intolerable. Once finished, you look askance at your pajama-clad daughter, and ask her why she hasn't dressed for school yet. "It's a staff development day," Hikari says, giggling slightly at your uncharacteristic forgetfulness. "Listen," she says. She chews her bottom lip and stares pointedly at the stuffed purple duck sewn onto her right slipper. "I know I have a lot of homework and stuff, and that I probably won't have time for it if I do this, but I think that an extracurricular will really help me get into a good high school. AlsomyfriendHanamotoisdoingittoo. So, um…" She rubs a mole on her arm and grins sheepishly."
"What is this activity you're talking about? Is Hanamoto male or female?" You take two more bites of your cereal, and wonder what you'll do if Hanamoto is male. But Hikari doesn't tell you one way or another. And you end up not really caring, because the activity that she's picked out is tennis. Your lips prickle as they stretch into a grin. "Tennis?" you say. "God played tennis at your age. Of course, He was so good at it that they wouldn't allow Him to enter tournaments after a time--it wasn't fair to the other players."
Your son Tsuki appears, dressed in his school uniform and attempting to untangle his headphone cord. "That's stupid," he says, looking briefly away from his attempt. "Yagami said he quit because he didn't have time anymore once he started high school. He's not God, Dad, he's just some guy."
"Tsuki, you will not speak blasphemies in this house!" you roar, surprised by the strength of your voice. The last time you raised your voice to such a timbre, it was because the stray cat that Hikari had taken in without your permission had escaped her room and puked in your bed. Then Ryuk had swooped in and pretended to eat it, making Hikari cry, and you'd had to scream at both of them. This is worse, and you don't know if yelling is enough. But nothing else seems appropriate either, so you just say that you cannot be held responsible for your actions if you hear another word against the Lord.
"You're crazy," Tsuki says, shrugging his bookbag into place and stomping out the door.
---------
That afternoon, you receive a joyful invitation. You've been invited into God's home, and it isn't to discuss your job as His disciple. It's a social call, a gathering of families. The Yagamis and Mikamis will eat dinner together as if one set is not vastly superior to the other.
You tell yourself that you are not nervous, that you have interacted pleasantly with God before. He will not smite you for small infractions, and it's not as if you invited yourself over. You were asked to come, and it isn't an intrusion if you're obeying God's commands.
Still, you micromanage the family's preparations. Kiyomi mustn't wear the pearl earrings that God bought for her when they dated in college. She might think that He'll be pleased, but Misa won't be, and you do not disrespect the wife of God. Hikari must swear that she won't speak unless spoken to, or take too much to eat, and Tsuki has to promise not to complain about anything, even if they're asked to drink out of the toilet. You yourself spend over an hour fixing your hair, brushing your teeth, and ironing your suit to perfection.
In the car, Kiyomi says that you're acting like a teenage girl on her first date, and both your teenagers agree.
---------
God lives in a massive, western-style apartment in Tokyo. The route from Yokohama is confusing and circuitous, and you get lost several times along the way. You never should have given Hikari the map, you can't understand the way she explains directions, and her voice is so quiet you can hardly hear her over Tsuki's horrible music. You hate everything your children listen to, right now you hate your children, and Kiyomi's glaring at you like you're anti-Kira, so the hate must be plain on your face.
You take a deep breath and try your best to trample your aggression. There's no reason for it, it's just that your nerves are frayed, they always are before you pay a visit to your God. You hope you haven't said anything too cruel, and that the four of you look like a calm and happy family when you greet the security guard, go through retinal scans, and eventually ring God's doorbell.
The door is answered by God's second daughter, a short girl in an ill-fitting yellow plaid dress. Kiyomi smiles at her and says, "Elle sweetie, you should be wearing your own clothes, don't you think? Himiko's dresses just don't fit you."
The girl scowls and tells Kiyomi that her father won't buy her anything except baggy blue jeans and baggy white tee shirts. "Those don't fit any better," she grumbles, "and it's none of your business anyway." And you scowl at Kiyomi too, it's not her place to question anything about God's daughters. You almost say something, but you're silenced when Misa and God step into the doorway, Rem fluttering noiselessly above their heads. "Hello Kiyomi!" Misa squeaks, swooping in and giving your wife seven kisses on the cheek--you have to restrain yourself from asking her to give her just one more to make it even. Misa's been overly friendly with Kiyomi ever since she gave up on God and married you. "Ohh, I'm so glad you could all make it! Sasaki didn't give you a hard time, did he? He threw my sister out because I forgot to enter her into the security database, I was so mad when he did that!"
You ignore Misa's prattling, and bask in the glow of your god. He's standing there holding His protesting three-year-old old, attempting to wipe her nose with a tissue. Even this is divine in your eyes. "Hello, Mikami," He says, nodding to you in lieu of a wave. "Did you find your way here alright? I remember you were having trouble last time."
You have absolutely no idea how to respond to this, and Kiyomi must be able to see that. She grins widely and tells Him that it wasn't too difficult, but they did have some trouble, yes. "If we hadn't been here a thousand times it would have been impossible, which is probably a good thing. You need keep your location under wraps, since you're such a public figure. I'm still surprised that you're living in an apartment instead of a palace, though. I mean, you're basically king of the world now, aren't you?"
"King of the world? That's an interesting way to put it," God says, smirking and shifting His daughter on His hip. She snatches at a piece of His hair, and God does nothing. You find yourself jealous, find yourself wanting to touch God's hair. "I think living in a palace would be somewhat unbearable, though. Too much maintenance. Misa would lose her mind. Anyway, Himiko's setting the table, and Aoi's making okonomiyaki in the kitchen--it's her first time cooking anything, so be nice." He turns around, raises His eyebrows angrily at Elle. "And you're supposed to be supervising her. Get back in there, you should know better than to leave your seven-year-old sister alone with the oven!"
Elle pouts a bit, but eventually you all file into the dining room, where Himiko, God's eldest, is doling out plates with a murderous scowl on her face.
---------
Dinner is as awkward as you had feared. You had forgotten that Himiko and Tsuki despise each other, and that Himiko will make no attempt to hide her disdain. Despite repeated warnings, Tsuki will not let her barbs go uncontested. By this point he's red in the face, and his breathing seems labored. You wonder if he remembered to pack his inhaler, and conclude that he probably did not.
"You guys are stupid," Elle says, swiping rice from Hikari's plate. For some reason, her parents have decided to skip her straight to dessert, but Elle does not seem interested. "What are you even fighting about? Tsuki's gonna have an asthma attack if you guys don't stop yelling."
"I'm sorry dear, I just can't stand being forced to share a table with such a detestable cretin! You know, he doesn't even support Kira! Did you know that, father?" Himiko widens her eyes in God's direction, but you don't really look at her. You're staring at God, praying that He won't take out the Death Note, won't write Mikami Tsuki in flawless script.
"I did not," God says, and you're shocked that He didn't, you did not know that anything could escape His holy awareness. "Tsuki, I don't think you understand your position. If you oppose Kira, then you favor criminal activity. You never lived in the world we did, Tsuki. You don't know what it was like. Women couldn't go outside at night without running the risk of being raped. You couldn't leave your door unlocked, ever. There were people who would kill you for your train pass. You don't want to live in a world dominated by people like that. You should be grateful to us. Do you know that your father was beaten on a daily basis trying to stop those kinds of people?"
You didn't want anyone to know that, but you smother your resentment, take a bite of your undercooked okonomiyaki. You're afraid of food poisoning, but you wouldn't want to insult God's third daughter. Despite the fact that it's a death trap, you keep on eating. You hope that God will get through to Tsuki, that he will stop behaving like an ignorant child. You wonder if God wants you to say anything to your son.
Tsuki snorts. "I'm not an idiot, Yagami. I know what things were like, believe me. Mom and Dad have told me stories, and I've studied history. In school they make pre-Kira times sound like Hiroshima. I sincerely doubt that it was anywhere near that bad. And just because there's less crime doesn't mean everything's perfect. The economy is shit now, do you have any idea how many people are out of work? Dad barely has a job anymore thanks to you." And you want to strangle this ungrateful brat, because it doesn't matter that you've had two cases in the last six months, it doesn't matter that you're horribly behind on bills and that your house might be repossessed, none of it matters because all of it is God's will.
"You're being very rude, Tsuki," you snarl. "This is no way to behave when you're a guest in someone else's house. Besides, you have no idea what you're talking about."
"Well fuck you, Dad!" Tsuki yells, throwing his fork down and focusing all his hostility on you; Himiko and her haughty smirk forgotten. He stands up and nearly knocks over the table. After that, he begins straightening the silverware that's been misaligned by his aggression. "Fuck you! I don't know why the hell I keep coming here, Himiko's a self-righteous whore, and I do not support Kira! I don't want to be part of this cult, I have different beliefs than you do! Why is that so wrong?"
Kiyomi smiles, but her teeth are gritted, and you're glad. Your wife has said and done some rather blasphemous things recently, and so for a moment you can hardly breathe. She folds her dainty hands and says, "it's not that we have a problem with you having different beliefs, Tsuki. We have a problem with the fact that you are insulting the cause we all risked our lives for." She nods to you, to Misa and to God, and keeps going. "We all did this knowing we could die. You've never had to put your life on the line like that, Tsuki. You couldn't possibly understand until you've had that experience."
Tsuki turns around, his fingers bunched into shaking fists. You mutter an apology to your God, and Kiyomi strokes your hand. "Whatever," Tsuki growls, "you guys can be as delusional as you want. But Yagami is not God, Dad. If you believe that, then I believe you're schizophrenic. Now if you'll excuse me." He heads for the door. "I'm going to go hang out with my girlfriend."
"He doesn't have a girlfriend," Hikari says, and Himiko laughs so hard you almost think she's crying.
---------
You don't know how to apologize for your vile offspring, so after dinner you wind up cleaning everything. Not just the dishes, not just the kitchen, everything. You're on your hands and knees scrubbing the floor while your wife makes small talk with God.
Misa stands over you, manicured nails digging into hips that are likely too wide for her comfort. "Mikami doesn't have to scrub the floor!" she squeaks. "You're a guest, please sit down and have dessert!" You keep scrubbing, unable to stop until you've cleared the area. Hoping against hope that God won't hate you for ignoring the words of His wife.
"Oh, let him, if he must," God says, setting down His coffee cup with a mighty clink. "This just means that we'll have to re-organize the girls' chore schedule, that's all." You're sorry for that, you don't want to wreck up the schedule, you don't remember right now that God doesn't care about that. God is flexible, unlike you. You are as brittle as a fallen leaf.
You keep at it, scrubbing all the floors in the apartment until they gleam. Your hands ache and bleed, but you consider this a good thing. You've done your penance, cleaned God's house and suffered pain to save your son. You ask if He's angry, if He plans on writing down Tsuki's name. "No," He says. "Of course not. He's your son, Mikami, I'm not going to kill him just because he's being rebellious. It's normal, once he grows up a little he'll understand."
"Thank you," you say, trying your best to restrain yourself from kissing His feet, to pick yourself up off the shining floor instead.
---------
Dessert is nearly over by the time you finally sit down. You've eaten half a piece of okonomiyaki, and as such your stomach is growling. You want to snarf up everything in sight, but you refrain. You don't want to eat too much junk food when you haven't even had a proper meal, and besides, the primary dessert is strawberry shortcake. You're allergic to strawberries, and you can only hope that they didn't somehow find their way into the one thing you did eat. You decide not to eat any more, because you've never been a big fan of anaphylaxis.
God is serving His second daughter a fourth piece of cake, and she's protesting that she's on a diet, and besides she's sick of cake. God's youngest is molding her cake into the shape of a cat, and Hikari is chatting happily with Misa. You start at the clock, hating yourself for wanting to leave God's home, for wanting to go back to Yokohama and eat something, check on Tsuki. You can't pay attention, but when God says, "so, we have something to talk about", you focus everything on Him.
"What is it, my Lord?" you squeak, and Kiyomi rolls her eyes, mouths something you can't understand in Misa's direction. When she starts snickering it makes you angrier than it probably should. You've never liked people laughing at you.
God laughs too, so you try your best not to care. "I've already discussed this with Kiyomi, but I think it's best if everybody hear it. It's a pity Tsuki left, this concerns him too, after all. Oh well." He pours Himself a cup of coffee, flashes the sparkling grin that Tsuki calls shit-eating. You try not to think too much about that. You start counting the hairs on Kiyomi's left wrist. "Anyway," God says, "I'd like to have another child."
Misa gnaws her bottom lip, fiddles with a nearby cloth napkin. "Light sweetie, Misa doesn't think this is a good idea. Misa has already had three cesarean sections, and she doesn't know if her body can take another surgery. Isn't four children enough?"
"Not really," He says. "I love our daughters, don't get me wrong, but I'd really prefer it if the next generation's Kira were male. Society would be less willing to accept a woman, even if that woman were as competent and smart as Himiko." Himiko preens at this, braces flashing as she grins. Her smile fades quickly, though. She must not love the somewhat sexist nature of God's comments. She just doesn't understand that everything He says is right. "Look," God says, "I'm sure it will be fine. You'll have the best doctors in Tokyo monitoring every step of the pregnancy. If you're really not comfortable with the idea, I have a backup. I will be impregnating Kiyomi as well, to increase the chances of having a male child. We can try it with just Kiyomi for now, if you'd like."
"Excuse me?!" Misa shrieks, balling her fists and scrunching up her eyebrows. You wonder if God knew that she'd react this way, and you wonder if God's children mind hearing that He wants another woman to carry their sibling. You try to ignore the fact that this other woman is your wife, and that she's already pregnant with your repulsive spawn. "That's a stupid idea, I would never allow that! You're my husband, Light belongs to Misa. How dare you even suggest cheating on me!"
The younger kids are cowering, and Kiyomi's clearing her throat. God is telling His wife that it isn't cheating, of course He adores her, it's strictly out of necessity that He plans on impregnating Kiyomi. "We can use a turkey baster," He says. He's cowed by her and you can't understand why.
"Light," Kiyomi says, nails clicking against her cake plate. "I understand that you want a son, but it isn't any more likely with me than it is with Misa, and you've picked a bad time. You see, I'm already pregnant."
God's not thrilled with that. You knew He wouldn't be. You knew how He would react, you knew He would not gnash His teeth or snap at your wife. You knew He would smile and icily inform her that they had discussed this, that she had agreed to bear His child. "I'm sorry," Kiyomi says, sounding like she isn't sorry at all. "I didn't know I was pregnant when I agreed to that. I don't want to murder an unborn child, Light. Please don't ask me to do that."
You know perfectly well that Kiyomi has had an abortion before, and that she'd have no qualms about getting another one if she wanted to. You don't want three children, you hate uneven numbers and you don't want to father another God-hating heathen. You don't want to disobey God. But all the same, you say nothing. You fold your hands in your lap and suck your cheeks in. Beg the God in your heart to make the God at the table forgive your family.
He takes a sip of His coffee, says they know what He expects. "Mikami," God says. "Aren't you going to have some cake? It's my first attempt at cooking anything in years."
It's strawberry shortcake, and you know that if you take a bite you'll be vomiting all night at best. You also know that you can't turn down God's cooking. Not when Tsuki and Kiyomi have already committed grievous sins. You're about to lift your plate for a piece, but Kiyomi stays your hand. "Unfortunately, he can't," she says. "He's severely allergic to strawberries. With you forgetting to pay me all the time, we can't really afford a trip to the hospital, you know?"
---------
You leave God's house with a grin, but when Kiyomi suggests that she drive this time you almost lose it. "How could you say those things to God?!" you shriek, your chest heaving and you're so glad you don't have asthma like Tsuki, you'd be dead now if you did. "You and Tsuki are both so disrespectful, you do realize that He could kill us all if He wanted to, right? I don't think you understand what you've done Kiyomi, we could all wake up dead tomorrow because you've made him angry! It was bad enough with Tsuki, but you're a grown woman, He's not going to give you the benefit of the doubt!" You rub your temples, pace nervously around the car while your wife and daughter gape at you.
Hikari throws her arms around you, grinds her face into your chest. You worry that the zipper on your coat will cut her face, and you wonder if she's clean enough to be touching you. You pretend you don't care and place your twitching fingers on her head to smooth her hair. "Dad," she mumbles, lips squished by her position. "Light's not going to kill you. He's not going to kill Mommy, or Tsuki. He only kills criminals, right? You're not criminals, and he needs your help with being Kira. He might be mad, but I'm pretty sure he can get mad without writing names down. He's not crazy."
Of course He's not. You've always been the crazy one, unable to deal with stained shirts and missed trains, whereas God has always been stable and sane. Loyal followers deserve to be rewarded, even if they're rude and don't pay deities their due. You thread your fingers through Hikari's thick hair, and try your hardest not to notice that she didn't get all the conditioner out in the shower. "You're right," you say. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Let's go home now."
---------
Some days later you've calmed down about God. You wish that Kiyomi's reminder that they have their own Death Note didn't comfort you, and that you didn't care about Ryuk's fleeting presence in your kitchen. While the shinigami remain attached to their respective notebooks, they do not spend much time with in your homes anymore. Rem apparently follows Misa each time she goes out, and Ryuk threatens to kill you all if you don't provide a never-ending stream of apples, but you don't hear much otherwise. Today you're glad to see Ryuk hanging around, reminding you that God trusts the Mikamis enough to provide them with a Death Note. Reminding you that God won't kill you, because God knows you can do the same to him if you choose to. You are an equal partner, worthy of your own Death Note, even if no one knows that you're a Kira, too.
So you feel a little more comfortable with Ryuk cackling in the kitchen. That doesn't stop you from snatching the phone from its receiver when caller ID says it's God. You're sitting in the kitchen rubbing your hair with a towel, you've just showered after walking in from the rain. The phone sparks slightly when it hits your damp ear, and when you jump slightly Ryuk laughs at you. "Hello?" you say, trying not to let on that your heart is beating in your throat.
"Hello Mikami," God says, His voice shakier than you feel comfortable with. "I'd like you to do me a favor, if you're not terribly busy right now." You're meeting with a rare client an hour from now, but nothing is more important that God's desires. You assume that He'll need you for fifteen minutes, half an hour at most. You ask your Lord what you can do to serve Him. You are willing to fly to the moon if need be.
He does want you to make a journey, not to the moon but to Tateshina. He's giving the speech that you recently edited, and he'll be living in five or six hours. "It'll still be pouring by then. I don't want to have to walk to my car without an umbrella, so do you think you could drop one off for me?"
If you are to keep your appointment, then there's no way in hell you can do this. Tateshina and back will take at least eight hours, and that's if you go there by car. At the moment, Kiyomi's driving the kids back from the dentist. She swore to be back before you had to leave for work, but you can't wait around that long if you plan on obeying God. And you do, because there isn't really a choice here. God is God and you'll do what he asks no matter what. It's a blow to your wallet and a blow to your routine, but all the same you acquiesce, say "alright, let me just get a pen so I can write down the address."
God's next words drip like molten gold. He thanks you, He says, "I knew I could count on you."
---------
You only remember to bring one umbrella, forgetting entirely about yourself and that fact that you don't want to get soaked on your way home. You think that maybe God will give you a ride, and try to stop obsessing over your mistake. Your nerves are jangled from breaking your routine, and you spend the train ride staring at a magazine, trying to work up the nerve to call your client and reschedule. This being one of your only clients, it feels like you're holding a gun to your poor career's head, unable to pull the trigger. But perhaps you can train for another career, or you can stand outside a shoe store handing out flyers, like your mother did when you were young. Perhaps you could kill yourself. You have plenty of options, but failing God is not one of them.
You do call your client. You tell her that your wife as just been hospitalized, and she forgives you immediately, reschedules with ease. Your chest tightens, you hate lying, and you hate that you must sin for God's (your own, selfish) sake. You try not to think about it, try to block out the sounds of shrieking children, other people's too-loud headphones, and the painful slamming of your heart against your ribs. And go to sleep, until Tateshina.
---------
You arrive disheveled and exhausted from an abrupt and complicated transfer that left you sprinting to catch your train. You detest unexpected service changes, and you're worried about how long it took for you to catch your breath after running. But you ignore these things, run even further to ensure that God does not have to wait.
It's you who winds up waiting. God doesn't show up for another hour. You consider calling Kiyomi, telling her why you aren't home and haven't made dinner, but something stops you. Even though you're serving God, you're almost embarrassed to be here. You can see His dark green car from the entryway of the office building, you don't understand why God can't walk across the street without an umbrella. What, is He going to melt if He gets wet? You sit down on the lobby couch, try to banish these blasphemies from your head.
God strides in with a gloating smile. "They worship me," He says, sounding, somehow, almost shocked by this. "There wasn't one single person in that auditorium who wasn't drooling over my every word. This is exactly what I always wanted, what I sacrificed everything for. I'm ecstatic, this is just so great. I…I feel like celebrating, Mikami do you want to go grab a drink or something?"
"I…no…" you mutter, then immediately beg for forgiveness, tell God that of course you'll do anything He asks of you.
God's grin goes flat, and He tells you that you don't have to if you don't want to. "It wouldn't be much of a celebration if the only other person involved wasn't interested. Anyway, it is quite late, and I know you don't like doing things spontaneously. Don't worry about it, I'll just go home."
He's disappointed in you, and that makes your heart pound so hard you think it's exploding. You apologize over and over again, nearly fall to your knees in desperation. But you don't. You stay standing, dignified in your posture if not in your words. In your suits and ties you look like two ordinary businessmen, instead of God and lowly servant. "It's okay," He says, and takes the umbrella from your trembling hands. You wonder if you'll ever get it back--it's a good umbrella, sturdy and shiny and black. You've had it for the past five years, and you can't afford anything like it as a replacement. Then you tell yourself that it doesn't matter, it's better off with God than with you. "Well," God says, walking outside and opening the umbrella into the sky, letting the rain slide off in streams that splash you when you follow Him like a dog into the rain. "I'll be off now. Thanks for coming all this way."
And with that, God crosses the street to his car, the umbrella you spent hours bringing to Him serving its purpose for less than a minute. He does not offer you a ride despite the fact that you'd be arriving in roughly the same area, and He does not reimburse you for your expensive train tickets. You know you shouldn't expect Him to, but it twists your stomach all the same. Your whole torso hurts now, and you don't know why you wasted your evening. You tell yourself again and again that it's for God, but that's starting to sound hollow.
The rain is freezing, and you're entirely soaked by this point. Shivers are starting to speed through your form, and your phone is bleating in your pocket. Kiyomi.
"Hello?" you mumble, wishing the second you speak that you hadn't picked up the phone. Her heavy breathing makes it clear that she's furious without her having to say a word.
But she doesn't stay silent for long. "Teru where the hell have you been?!" she explodes, clicking her nails against the phone so loud that you can hear it. "It's nearly midnight, you were supposed to wait for me to bring the car back, where are you? You idiot, I've been worried sick, why the fuck haven't you called me?" She takes a deep breath and you try your best to placate her, to apologize without explaining anything. Kiyomi will not stand for that for long. "Why are you in Tateshina?" she asks after you inform her of your whereabouts.
"God…Light asked me to come here. He wanted me to deliver…something." You can't finish, can't tell Kiyomi what you came all this way to do. It seems utterly silly, and your face is prickling with the heat of humiliation. You wish you hadn't called God Light, and you wish you hadn't called Light God. Kiyomi demands to know what you were asked to deliver, and you finally admit that it was an umbrella.
"An umbrella." You can just see her rolling her eyes. "You went all the way to Tateshina, without informing anyone of your whereabouts, so that you could give Light an umbrella. You really…wow. That's just special." You nod, knowing she can't see you. You don't want her to know you agree. You tell her that there's no such thing as going too far for God, but it doesn't ring true and your voice is cracking. You try to convince yourself that the only liquid on your face is the rain. "Are you coming home soon?" Kiyomi says. "Or do you have to do Light any more ridiculous favors?"
You promise her that you're coming home, no matter what else Light might ask of you. Just in case you can't resist, you decide to turn your phone off once you hang up with Kiyomi.
---------
By the time you get home you're soaked like you've been lost at sea. Kiyomi is slumped over a baby name book at the kitchen table, adding a name to an already lengthy list. You wonder whether you should interrupt her, but you do not wonder for long, because she comes to you and wraps her arms around your neck. "I'm getting you wet," you say, and she cackles, tells you that you do that all the time. You don't get it at first, and when you do your cheeks turn scarlet. You cough slightly, and you wait for her to pull away, brush the water from her shirt and leave you to your own devices.
She doesn't pull away. She speaks into your shoulder, says she called Light and told him that that was a dick move on his part. "He has no right to be making outrageous demands like that, and he knows it. He's very sorry, and if he does what I told him he'll give you a call in the morning. That is, if Tsuki gets off the phone by then." Kiyomi nods towards the bedroom, and says that apparently Himiko thought it was a dick move too. "She's pretty angry with her father over the whole male heir fiasco. Tsuki's been listening to her rant for the past hour--I don't know about you, but I can totally picture them married."
Kiyomi keeps talking, but you've stopped hearing what she has to say. You grip the back of her blouse, pull her closer as you try to process what's been said to you. God was wrong? You weren't wrong for resenting him; your experience is relevant in God's eyes? You don't deserve to be drenched and exhausted right now?
Your wife struggles to free herself, you're holding on too tightly. "Teru," she says, "you should really change your clothes. Somehow I don't think that standing around in a wet coat is very comfortable. Probably isn't terribly healthy, either."
It's not comfortable, and you don't want to get sick, so you follow her into the bedroom. As you remove your sopping shirt you ask her what names she's thinking of for the baby. "Oh," she says. "I thought you'd already decided on Aborted Fetus. Changed your mind?"
It's not that you've changed your mind exactly. You're still not okay with disobeying God. But you think that maybe God can be unreasonable sometimes, and that it's Kiyomi's choice to make, not yours or God's or anybody else's. And you think that even if God will be angry, maybe Light won't care as much. "What do you have in mind?" you ask again, folding your dripping shirt and placing it in the hamper. Kiyomi eyes your bare chest hungrily. "I don't know," she says, "I was thinking about Sachiko for a girl, but then I remembered that that's Light's mom's name. So that would be weird. Can you think of something else?"
You can't. Your brain scans through alternate readings of God's name, Mori, Gatsu, Getsu, and all of God's relatives. Nothing else comes to mind. And Kiyomi says, "not Mori. Or Gatsu. Or Getsu. Or Sayu, Soichiro, or Sachiko. Not Kira. Not Light 2.0. Look, don't worry, we've got quite a few months to think up something that's got nothing to do with him."
With that, she sends a tee shirt whirling towards your head, and you have to step back to catch it. "Put your damn clothes on," she admonishes, laughing slightly. "I can't be held responsible for what I do to you if you don't."
I Hate Coffee - Quincy Punx
Author:
speaky_beanRating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Teru, Light, Kiyomi, Misa, Rem, Ryuk, and several OCs. Misa/Light, Teru/Kiyomi.
Warnings: This fic is written in second person. Some people find this irritating, so I'm warning for it.
Word Count: 7,083
Notes: I've been meaning to write this fic for a very long time. It's an AU in which Kira won. Light and Misa are married with four daughters, and Kiyomi and Teru are married with a girl and a boy. In this story, Teru struggles with his devotion to God (Light) in relation to his duty to himself and his family. His God is very demanding, and his son is anti-Kira...so things aren't exactly easy for him.
This fic is dedicated to
viola_canina...if I remember correctly, she's partially to blame for this idea. It's also written for prompt #18 at dn_contest, umbrella.You had not thought that the Mikami family would ever mean anything but you, sitting alone at your desk scrawling names (and getting carried away sometimes, leaping up and screaming with the utter joy that comes from serving God). It had once, when it was you and your mother, but that wasn't a family, not really. You didn't understand each other. Now, you never will.
You don't know if you and Kiyomi understand each other either. She believes in Kira with the same fervor and passion that you do, (okay, so she doesn't get wild-eyed and sweaty at the mere thought of him) but she doesn't understand why dinner must happen at eight on the dot (she comes home at 7:30 and you cook, not her, so this shouldn't ever be a problem) or why the house must always be spotlessly clean (she doesn't like cleaning, and calls you neurotic when you work any harder than she does, so you started faking dust allergies to explain yourself. Now she thinks you're a whiny hypochondriac, too) but whether you understand each other or not, you're bound together by Kira's word. Maybe you're just children playing house, but your dolls are real children, your plastic dishes are ceramic, and your playroom is a brick house on its third mortgage, perched high on a hill in Yokohama. And your god is not some faceless sky-high deity, he's a flesh-and-blood man who lives in Tokyo with his own wife and children.
Your world is as concrete and stable as you always wanted it to be. You tell yourself this every day.
---------
Kiyomi is lying sprawled across your shared bed, arms stretched out and knees sticking in opposite directions. Her underwear on uncomfortable display. You think about touching her, wonder whether or not her open legs are an invitation. Wonder whether you have enough antibacterial soap to make such a thing acceptable. But Kiyomi asks you why you haven't been taking on as many cases lately. Her meticulously plucked eyebrows are lowered in anger, and you're not sure how to explain this. It's obvious to you, and you don't know why she doesn't understand. "Kiyomi," you say, sitting ramrod straight on the bed. "Is that a serious question?"
Her lipstick is so badly smeared that it looks like blood, and this sets you on edge. You wish you hadn't said anything, but it's too late now. All you can do is wait for her to speak.
When she finally does it begins with a derisive snort. "Of course it's a serious question. Your paycheck is laughable compared to what it used to be, and we have a lot of bills to pay. We also have to buy Hikari a new school uniform, and we have to buy groceries and refill Tsuki's prescriptions. Life costs money, so tell me Teru, why is it that you aren't working hard anymore? Do you want to put your family out on the streets?"
You laugh, though you don't think this is funny at all. You're angry with Kiyomi for being so stupid, because she usually isn't, because you don't like broken patterns. "Crime is nearly nonexistent now," you say. "Prosecuting attorneys are hardly needed these days, because there's nobody to prosecute. There just isn't a lot of work for me to do."
"So take a part time job," she says, flicking a piece of lint from her tee shirt. You try not to think about where that filth went, or what germs it's most likely coated in. You imagine yourself getting horribly sick, and suddenly you hate Kiyomi. And you wish you didn't, because who hates their wife for flicking lint off her tee shirt? You decide to ignore it, respond instead to the bit about the part time job.
"I can't," you say. "That wouldn't leave me with enough time to do God's work. Besides, God will take care of us. I'm sure that He knew that a crime-free world would make my job irrelevant, and I'm sure He's made provisions. We are His loyal servants, He wouldn't let us starve. Besides, it's not as if you don't make any money at your job."
"These days I hardly make anything. I'm working directly under Light now, and he keeps randomly replacing me with Misa, and neglecting to pay me. He just takes it for granted that I'll gladly be his spokeswoman without any compensation." She groans, and when you tell her that she should be glad to help God she groans again. "Teru," she says, clutching her stomach and stroking it. "We really do need money. I need you to understand that. I don't know why you don't, I mean, you were poor as a kid. But anyway, look Teru." She grabs your hand then, crowds your huge bony fingers into the spaces between her small and plump ones. Guides it to her stomach, and even though you've made love to this woman you nearly die of embarrassment. "We're going to have another baby," she whispers. Like this is a secret or something.
"Oh," you say. "I see."
---------
Apparently, it is a secret. The next day, while you are checking a speech God wrote for spelling errors, Kiyomi asks you not to mention it to Him just yet. "You see," she says, "he wanted Misa and I to be pregnant simultaneously, with his children. He thinks it's really important that he have a son, and he wants to increase his chances. Y-carrying sperm are slightly more fragile, and he thinks that Misa's…environment might be too acidic." You're blushing at this and you don't even know why.
"I see," you say, angrily tapping your pen on the kitchen counter. Eight, nine, ten times, and then you stop. "So was this an accident, or did you deliberately defy God's orders?"
"They weren't orders, and his theory about Misa is probably bullshit. She can have a son just as easily as I can, she just hasn't yet. Besides, there's nothing wrong with daughters." You push your hair to the side to glare more effectively. Kiyomi laughs briefly at this and then turns abruptly serious. "Teru," she says, "I don't want to have Light's baby! I thought I would, but after thinking it over I realized that he'd just take the kid and raise it as it as his own! I don't want to go through nine months of pregnancy and the pain of labor just to have my baby stolen from me! Don't you understand that?"
The part of you that understands is small and frail compared to the part that worships Kira unconditionally. You tell your wife that you think she should get an abortion, and then correct a misplaced semicolon in God's speech.
---------
"Hey, Dad?"
You do not look up from your cereal until you've taken one more spoonful. To stop on bite twenty-three would be intolerable. Once finished, you look askance at your pajama-clad daughter, and ask her why she hasn't dressed for school yet. "It's a staff development day," Hikari says, giggling slightly at your uncharacteristic forgetfulness. "Listen," she says. She chews her bottom lip and stares pointedly at the stuffed purple duck sewn onto her right slipper. "I know I have a lot of homework and stuff, and that I probably won't have time for it if I do this, but I think that an extracurricular will really help me get into a good high school. AlsomyfriendHanamotoisdoingittoo. So, um…" She rubs a mole on her arm and grins sheepishly."
"What is this activity you're talking about? Is Hanamoto male or female?" You take two more bites of your cereal, and wonder what you'll do if Hanamoto is male. But Hikari doesn't tell you one way or another. And you end up not really caring, because the activity that she's picked out is tennis. Your lips prickle as they stretch into a grin. "Tennis?" you say. "God played tennis at your age. Of course, He was so good at it that they wouldn't allow Him to enter tournaments after a time--it wasn't fair to the other players."
Your son Tsuki appears, dressed in his school uniform and attempting to untangle his headphone cord. "That's stupid," he says, looking briefly away from his attempt. "Yagami said he quit because he didn't have time anymore once he started high school. He's not God, Dad, he's just some guy."
"Tsuki, you will not speak blasphemies in this house!" you roar, surprised by the strength of your voice. The last time you raised your voice to such a timbre, it was because the stray cat that Hikari had taken in without your permission had escaped her room and puked in your bed. Then Ryuk had swooped in and pretended to eat it, making Hikari cry, and you'd had to scream at both of them. This is worse, and you don't know if yelling is enough. But nothing else seems appropriate either, so you just say that you cannot be held responsible for your actions if you hear another word against the Lord.
"You're crazy," Tsuki says, shrugging his bookbag into place and stomping out the door.
---------
That afternoon, you receive a joyful invitation. You've been invited into God's home, and it isn't to discuss your job as His disciple. It's a social call, a gathering of families. The Yagamis and Mikamis will eat dinner together as if one set is not vastly superior to the other.
You tell yourself that you are not nervous, that you have interacted pleasantly with God before. He will not smite you for small infractions, and it's not as if you invited yourself over. You were asked to come, and it isn't an intrusion if you're obeying God's commands.
Still, you micromanage the family's preparations. Kiyomi mustn't wear the pearl earrings that God bought for her when they dated in college. She might think that He'll be pleased, but Misa won't be, and you do not disrespect the wife of God. Hikari must swear that she won't speak unless spoken to, or take too much to eat, and Tsuki has to promise not to complain about anything, even if they're asked to drink out of the toilet. You yourself spend over an hour fixing your hair, brushing your teeth, and ironing your suit to perfection.
In the car, Kiyomi says that you're acting like a teenage girl on her first date, and both your teenagers agree.
---------
God lives in a massive, western-style apartment in Tokyo. The route from Yokohama is confusing and circuitous, and you get lost several times along the way. You never should have given Hikari the map, you can't understand the way she explains directions, and her voice is so quiet you can hardly hear her over Tsuki's horrible music. You hate everything your children listen to, right now you hate your children, and Kiyomi's glaring at you like you're anti-Kira, so the hate must be plain on your face.
You take a deep breath and try your best to trample your aggression. There's no reason for it, it's just that your nerves are frayed, they always are before you pay a visit to your God. You hope you haven't said anything too cruel, and that the four of you look like a calm and happy family when you greet the security guard, go through retinal scans, and eventually ring God's doorbell.
The door is answered by God's second daughter, a short girl in an ill-fitting yellow plaid dress. Kiyomi smiles at her and says, "Elle sweetie, you should be wearing your own clothes, don't you think? Himiko's dresses just don't fit you."
The girl scowls and tells Kiyomi that her father won't buy her anything except baggy blue jeans and baggy white tee shirts. "Those don't fit any better," she grumbles, "and it's none of your business anyway." And you scowl at Kiyomi too, it's not her place to question anything about God's daughters. You almost say something, but you're silenced when Misa and God step into the doorway, Rem fluttering noiselessly above their heads. "Hello Kiyomi!" Misa squeaks, swooping in and giving your wife seven kisses on the cheek--you have to restrain yourself from asking her to give her just one more to make it even. Misa's been overly friendly with Kiyomi ever since she gave up on God and married you. "Ohh, I'm so glad you could all make it! Sasaki didn't give you a hard time, did he? He threw my sister out because I forgot to enter her into the security database, I was so mad when he did that!"
You ignore Misa's prattling, and bask in the glow of your god. He's standing there holding His protesting three-year-old old, attempting to wipe her nose with a tissue. Even this is divine in your eyes. "Hello, Mikami," He says, nodding to you in lieu of a wave. "Did you find your way here alright? I remember you were having trouble last time."
You have absolutely no idea how to respond to this, and Kiyomi must be able to see that. She grins widely and tells Him that it wasn't too difficult, but they did have some trouble, yes. "If we hadn't been here a thousand times it would have been impossible, which is probably a good thing. You need keep your location under wraps, since you're such a public figure. I'm still surprised that you're living in an apartment instead of a palace, though. I mean, you're basically king of the world now, aren't you?"
"King of the world? That's an interesting way to put it," God says, smirking and shifting His daughter on His hip. She snatches at a piece of His hair, and God does nothing. You find yourself jealous, find yourself wanting to touch God's hair. "I think living in a palace would be somewhat unbearable, though. Too much maintenance. Misa would lose her mind. Anyway, Himiko's setting the table, and Aoi's making okonomiyaki in the kitchen--it's her first time cooking anything, so be nice." He turns around, raises His eyebrows angrily at Elle. "And you're supposed to be supervising her. Get back in there, you should know better than to leave your seven-year-old sister alone with the oven!"
Elle pouts a bit, but eventually you all file into the dining room, where Himiko, God's eldest, is doling out plates with a murderous scowl on her face.
---------
Dinner is as awkward as you had feared. You had forgotten that Himiko and Tsuki despise each other, and that Himiko will make no attempt to hide her disdain. Despite repeated warnings, Tsuki will not let her barbs go uncontested. By this point he's red in the face, and his breathing seems labored. You wonder if he remembered to pack his inhaler, and conclude that he probably did not.
"You guys are stupid," Elle says, swiping rice from Hikari's plate. For some reason, her parents have decided to skip her straight to dessert, but Elle does not seem interested. "What are you even fighting about? Tsuki's gonna have an asthma attack if you guys don't stop yelling."
"I'm sorry dear, I just can't stand being forced to share a table with such a detestable cretin! You know, he doesn't even support Kira! Did you know that, father?" Himiko widens her eyes in God's direction, but you don't really look at her. You're staring at God, praying that He won't take out the Death Note, won't write Mikami Tsuki in flawless script.
"I did not," God says, and you're shocked that He didn't, you did not know that anything could escape His holy awareness. "Tsuki, I don't think you understand your position. If you oppose Kira, then you favor criminal activity. You never lived in the world we did, Tsuki. You don't know what it was like. Women couldn't go outside at night without running the risk of being raped. You couldn't leave your door unlocked, ever. There were people who would kill you for your train pass. You don't want to live in a world dominated by people like that. You should be grateful to us. Do you know that your father was beaten on a daily basis trying to stop those kinds of people?"
You didn't want anyone to know that, but you smother your resentment, take a bite of your undercooked okonomiyaki. You're afraid of food poisoning, but you wouldn't want to insult God's third daughter. Despite the fact that it's a death trap, you keep on eating. You hope that God will get through to Tsuki, that he will stop behaving like an ignorant child. You wonder if God wants you to say anything to your son.
Tsuki snorts. "I'm not an idiot, Yagami. I know what things were like, believe me. Mom and Dad have told me stories, and I've studied history. In school they make pre-Kira times sound like Hiroshima. I sincerely doubt that it was anywhere near that bad. And just because there's less crime doesn't mean everything's perfect. The economy is shit now, do you have any idea how many people are out of work? Dad barely has a job anymore thanks to you." And you want to strangle this ungrateful brat, because it doesn't matter that you've had two cases in the last six months, it doesn't matter that you're horribly behind on bills and that your house might be repossessed, none of it matters because all of it is God's will.
"You're being very rude, Tsuki," you snarl. "This is no way to behave when you're a guest in someone else's house. Besides, you have no idea what you're talking about."
"Well fuck you, Dad!" Tsuki yells, throwing his fork down and focusing all his hostility on you; Himiko and her haughty smirk forgotten. He stands up and nearly knocks over the table. After that, he begins straightening the silverware that's been misaligned by his aggression. "Fuck you! I don't know why the hell I keep coming here, Himiko's a self-righteous whore, and I do not support Kira! I don't want to be part of this cult, I have different beliefs than you do! Why is that so wrong?"
Kiyomi smiles, but her teeth are gritted, and you're glad. Your wife has said and done some rather blasphemous things recently, and so for a moment you can hardly breathe. She folds her dainty hands and says, "it's not that we have a problem with you having different beliefs, Tsuki. We have a problem with the fact that you are insulting the cause we all risked our lives for." She nods to you, to Misa and to God, and keeps going. "We all did this knowing we could die. You've never had to put your life on the line like that, Tsuki. You couldn't possibly understand until you've had that experience."
Tsuki turns around, his fingers bunched into shaking fists. You mutter an apology to your God, and Kiyomi strokes your hand. "Whatever," Tsuki growls, "you guys can be as delusional as you want. But Yagami is not God, Dad. If you believe that, then I believe you're schizophrenic. Now if you'll excuse me." He heads for the door. "I'm going to go hang out with my girlfriend."
"He doesn't have a girlfriend," Hikari says, and Himiko laughs so hard you almost think she's crying.
---------
You don't know how to apologize for your vile offspring, so after dinner you wind up cleaning everything. Not just the dishes, not just the kitchen, everything. You're on your hands and knees scrubbing the floor while your wife makes small talk with God.
Misa stands over you, manicured nails digging into hips that are likely too wide for her comfort. "Mikami doesn't have to scrub the floor!" she squeaks. "You're a guest, please sit down and have dessert!" You keep scrubbing, unable to stop until you've cleared the area. Hoping against hope that God won't hate you for ignoring the words of His wife.
"Oh, let him, if he must," God says, setting down His coffee cup with a mighty clink. "This just means that we'll have to re-organize the girls' chore schedule, that's all." You're sorry for that, you don't want to wreck up the schedule, you don't remember right now that God doesn't care about that. God is flexible, unlike you. You are as brittle as a fallen leaf.
You keep at it, scrubbing all the floors in the apartment until they gleam. Your hands ache and bleed, but you consider this a good thing. You've done your penance, cleaned God's house and suffered pain to save your son. You ask if He's angry, if He plans on writing down Tsuki's name. "No," He says. "Of course not. He's your son, Mikami, I'm not going to kill him just because he's being rebellious. It's normal, once he grows up a little he'll understand."
"Thank you," you say, trying your best to restrain yourself from kissing His feet, to pick yourself up off the shining floor instead.
---------
Dessert is nearly over by the time you finally sit down. You've eaten half a piece of okonomiyaki, and as such your stomach is growling. You want to snarf up everything in sight, but you refrain. You don't want to eat too much junk food when you haven't even had a proper meal, and besides, the primary dessert is strawberry shortcake. You're allergic to strawberries, and you can only hope that they didn't somehow find their way into the one thing you did eat. You decide not to eat any more, because you've never been a big fan of anaphylaxis.
God is serving His second daughter a fourth piece of cake, and she's protesting that she's on a diet, and besides she's sick of cake. God's youngest is molding her cake into the shape of a cat, and Hikari is chatting happily with Misa. You start at the clock, hating yourself for wanting to leave God's home, for wanting to go back to Yokohama and eat something, check on Tsuki. You can't pay attention, but when God says, "so, we have something to talk about", you focus everything on Him.
"What is it, my Lord?" you squeak, and Kiyomi rolls her eyes, mouths something you can't understand in Misa's direction. When she starts snickering it makes you angrier than it probably should. You've never liked people laughing at you.
God laughs too, so you try your best not to care. "I've already discussed this with Kiyomi, but I think it's best if everybody hear it. It's a pity Tsuki left, this concerns him too, after all. Oh well." He pours Himself a cup of coffee, flashes the sparkling grin that Tsuki calls shit-eating. You try not to think too much about that. You start counting the hairs on Kiyomi's left wrist. "Anyway," God says, "I'd like to have another child."
Misa gnaws her bottom lip, fiddles with a nearby cloth napkin. "Light sweetie, Misa doesn't think this is a good idea. Misa has already had three cesarean sections, and she doesn't know if her body can take another surgery. Isn't four children enough?"
"Not really," He says. "I love our daughters, don't get me wrong, but I'd really prefer it if the next generation's Kira were male. Society would be less willing to accept a woman, even if that woman were as competent and smart as Himiko." Himiko preens at this, braces flashing as she grins. Her smile fades quickly, though. She must not love the somewhat sexist nature of God's comments. She just doesn't understand that everything He says is right. "Look," God says, "I'm sure it will be fine. You'll have the best doctors in Tokyo monitoring every step of the pregnancy. If you're really not comfortable with the idea, I have a backup. I will be impregnating Kiyomi as well, to increase the chances of having a male child. We can try it with just Kiyomi for now, if you'd like."
"Excuse me?!" Misa shrieks, balling her fists and scrunching up her eyebrows. You wonder if God knew that she'd react this way, and you wonder if God's children mind hearing that He wants another woman to carry their sibling. You try to ignore the fact that this other woman is your wife, and that she's already pregnant with your repulsive spawn. "That's a stupid idea, I would never allow that! You're my husband, Light belongs to Misa. How dare you even suggest cheating on me!"
The younger kids are cowering, and Kiyomi's clearing her throat. God is telling His wife that it isn't cheating, of course He adores her, it's strictly out of necessity that He plans on impregnating Kiyomi. "We can use a turkey baster," He says. He's cowed by her and you can't understand why.
"Light," Kiyomi says, nails clicking against her cake plate. "I understand that you want a son, but it isn't any more likely with me than it is with Misa, and you've picked a bad time. You see, I'm already pregnant."
God's not thrilled with that. You knew He wouldn't be. You knew how He would react, you knew He would not gnash His teeth or snap at your wife. You knew He would smile and icily inform her that they had discussed this, that she had agreed to bear His child. "I'm sorry," Kiyomi says, sounding like she isn't sorry at all. "I didn't know I was pregnant when I agreed to that. I don't want to murder an unborn child, Light. Please don't ask me to do that."
You know perfectly well that Kiyomi has had an abortion before, and that she'd have no qualms about getting another one if she wanted to. You don't want three children, you hate uneven numbers and you don't want to father another God-hating heathen. You don't want to disobey God. But all the same, you say nothing. You fold your hands in your lap and suck your cheeks in. Beg the God in your heart to make the God at the table forgive your family.
He takes a sip of His coffee, says they know what He expects. "Mikami," God says. "Aren't you going to have some cake? It's my first attempt at cooking anything in years."
It's strawberry shortcake, and you know that if you take a bite you'll be vomiting all night at best. You also know that you can't turn down God's cooking. Not when Tsuki and Kiyomi have already committed grievous sins. You're about to lift your plate for a piece, but Kiyomi stays your hand. "Unfortunately, he can't," she says. "He's severely allergic to strawberries. With you forgetting to pay me all the time, we can't really afford a trip to the hospital, you know?"
---------
You leave God's house with a grin, but when Kiyomi suggests that she drive this time you almost lose it. "How could you say those things to God?!" you shriek, your chest heaving and you're so glad you don't have asthma like Tsuki, you'd be dead now if you did. "You and Tsuki are both so disrespectful, you do realize that He could kill us all if He wanted to, right? I don't think you understand what you've done Kiyomi, we could all wake up dead tomorrow because you've made him angry! It was bad enough with Tsuki, but you're a grown woman, He's not going to give you the benefit of the doubt!" You rub your temples, pace nervously around the car while your wife and daughter gape at you.
Hikari throws her arms around you, grinds her face into your chest. You worry that the zipper on your coat will cut her face, and you wonder if she's clean enough to be touching you. You pretend you don't care and place your twitching fingers on her head to smooth her hair. "Dad," she mumbles, lips squished by her position. "Light's not going to kill you. He's not going to kill Mommy, or Tsuki. He only kills criminals, right? You're not criminals, and he needs your help with being Kira. He might be mad, but I'm pretty sure he can get mad without writing names down. He's not crazy."
Of course He's not. You've always been the crazy one, unable to deal with stained shirts and missed trains, whereas God has always been stable and sane. Loyal followers deserve to be rewarded, even if they're rude and don't pay deities their due. You thread your fingers through Hikari's thick hair, and try your hardest not to notice that she didn't get all the conditioner out in the shower. "You're right," you say. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Let's go home now."
---------
Some days later you've calmed down about God. You wish that Kiyomi's reminder that they have their own Death Note didn't comfort you, and that you didn't care about Ryuk's fleeting presence in your kitchen. While the shinigami remain attached to their respective notebooks, they do not spend much time with in your homes anymore. Rem apparently follows Misa each time she goes out, and Ryuk threatens to kill you all if you don't provide a never-ending stream of apples, but you don't hear much otherwise. Today you're glad to see Ryuk hanging around, reminding you that God trusts the Mikamis enough to provide them with a Death Note. Reminding you that God won't kill you, because God knows you can do the same to him if you choose to. You are an equal partner, worthy of your own Death Note, even if no one knows that you're a Kira, too.
So you feel a little more comfortable with Ryuk cackling in the kitchen. That doesn't stop you from snatching the phone from its receiver when caller ID says it's God. You're sitting in the kitchen rubbing your hair with a towel, you've just showered after walking in from the rain. The phone sparks slightly when it hits your damp ear, and when you jump slightly Ryuk laughs at you. "Hello?" you say, trying not to let on that your heart is beating in your throat.
"Hello Mikami," God says, His voice shakier than you feel comfortable with. "I'd like you to do me a favor, if you're not terribly busy right now." You're meeting with a rare client an hour from now, but nothing is more important that God's desires. You assume that He'll need you for fifteen minutes, half an hour at most. You ask your Lord what you can do to serve Him. You are willing to fly to the moon if need be.
He does want you to make a journey, not to the moon but to Tateshina. He's giving the speech that you recently edited, and he'll be living in five or six hours. "It'll still be pouring by then. I don't want to have to walk to my car without an umbrella, so do you think you could drop one off for me?"
If you are to keep your appointment, then there's no way in hell you can do this. Tateshina and back will take at least eight hours, and that's if you go there by car. At the moment, Kiyomi's driving the kids back from the dentist. She swore to be back before you had to leave for work, but you can't wait around that long if you plan on obeying God. And you do, because there isn't really a choice here. God is God and you'll do what he asks no matter what. It's a blow to your wallet and a blow to your routine, but all the same you acquiesce, say "alright, let me just get a pen so I can write down the address."
God's next words drip like molten gold. He thanks you, He says, "I knew I could count on you."
---------
You only remember to bring one umbrella, forgetting entirely about yourself and that fact that you don't want to get soaked on your way home. You think that maybe God will give you a ride, and try to stop obsessing over your mistake. Your nerves are jangled from breaking your routine, and you spend the train ride staring at a magazine, trying to work up the nerve to call your client and reschedule. This being one of your only clients, it feels like you're holding a gun to your poor career's head, unable to pull the trigger. But perhaps you can train for another career, or you can stand outside a shoe store handing out flyers, like your mother did when you were young. Perhaps you could kill yourself. You have plenty of options, but failing God is not one of them.
You do call your client. You tell her that your wife as just been hospitalized, and she forgives you immediately, reschedules with ease. Your chest tightens, you hate lying, and you hate that you must sin for God's (your own, selfish) sake. You try not to think about it, try to block out the sounds of shrieking children, other people's too-loud headphones, and the painful slamming of your heart against your ribs. And go to sleep, until Tateshina.
---------
You arrive disheveled and exhausted from an abrupt and complicated transfer that left you sprinting to catch your train. You detest unexpected service changes, and you're worried about how long it took for you to catch your breath after running. But you ignore these things, run even further to ensure that God does not have to wait.
It's you who winds up waiting. God doesn't show up for another hour. You consider calling Kiyomi, telling her why you aren't home and haven't made dinner, but something stops you. Even though you're serving God, you're almost embarrassed to be here. You can see His dark green car from the entryway of the office building, you don't understand why God can't walk across the street without an umbrella. What, is He going to melt if He gets wet? You sit down on the lobby couch, try to banish these blasphemies from your head.
God strides in with a gloating smile. "They worship me," He says, sounding, somehow, almost shocked by this. "There wasn't one single person in that auditorium who wasn't drooling over my every word. This is exactly what I always wanted, what I sacrificed everything for. I'm ecstatic, this is just so great. I…I feel like celebrating, Mikami do you want to go grab a drink or something?"
"I…no…" you mutter, then immediately beg for forgiveness, tell God that of course you'll do anything He asks of you.
God's grin goes flat, and He tells you that you don't have to if you don't want to. "It wouldn't be much of a celebration if the only other person involved wasn't interested. Anyway, it is quite late, and I know you don't like doing things spontaneously. Don't worry about it, I'll just go home."
He's disappointed in you, and that makes your heart pound so hard you think it's exploding. You apologize over and over again, nearly fall to your knees in desperation. But you don't. You stay standing, dignified in your posture if not in your words. In your suits and ties you look like two ordinary businessmen, instead of God and lowly servant. "It's okay," He says, and takes the umbrella from your trembling hands. You wonder if you'll ever get it back--it's a good umbrella, sturdy and shiny and black. You've had it for the past five years, and you can't afford anything like it as a replacement. Then you tell yourself that it doesn't matter, it's better off with God than with you. "Well," God says, walking outside and opening the umbrella into the sky, letting the rain slide off in streams that splash you when you follow Him like a dog into the rain. "I'll be off now. Thanks for coming all this way."
And with that, God crosses the street to his car, the umbrella you spent hours bringing to Him serving its purpose for less than a minute. He does not offer you a ride despite the fact that you'd be arriving in roughly the same area, and He does not reimburse you for your expensive train tickets. You know you shouldn't expect Him to, but it twists your stomach all the same. Your whole torso hurts now, and you don't know why you wasted your evening. You tell yourself again and again that it's for God, but that's starting to sound hollow.
The rain is freezing, and you're entirely soaked by this point. Shivers are starting to speed through your form, and your phone is bleating in your pocket. Kiyomi.
"Hello?" you mumble, wishing the second you speak that you hadn't picked up the phone. Her heavy breathing makes it clear that she's furious without her having to say a word.
But she doesn't stay silent for long. "Teru where the hell have you been?!" she explodes, clicking her nails against the phone so loud that you can hear it. "It's nearly midnight, you were supposed to wait for me to bring the car back, where are you? You idiot, I've been worried sick, why the fuck haven't you called me?" She takes a deep breath and you try your best to placate her, to apologize without explaining anything. Kiyomi will not stand for that for long. "Why are you in Tateshina?" she asks after you inform her of your whereabouts.
"God…Light asked me to come here. He wanted me to deliver…something." You can't finish, can't tell Kiyomi what you came all this way to do. It seems utterly silly, and your face is prickling with the heat of humiliation. You wish you hadn't called God Light, and you wish you hadn't called Light God. Kiyomi demands to know what you were asked to deliver, and you finally admit that it was an umbrella.
"An umbrella." You can just see her rolling her eyes. "You went all the way to Tateshina, without informing anyone of your whereabouts, so that you could give Light an umbrella. You really…wow. That's just special." You nod, knowing she can't see you. You don't want her to know you agree. You tell her that there's no such thing as going too far for God, but it doesn't ring true and your voice is cracking. You try to convince yourself that the only liquid on your face is the rain. "Are you coming home soon?" Kiyomi says. "Or do you have to do Light any more ridiculous favors?"
You promise her that you're coming home, no matter what else Light might ask of you. Just in case you can't resist, you decide to turn your phone off once you hang up with Kiyomi.
---------
By the time you get home you're soaked like you've been lost at sea. Kiyomi is slumped over a baby name book at the kitchen table, adding a name to an already lengthy list. You wonder whether you should interrupt her, but you do not wonder for long, because she comes to you and wraps her arms around your neck. "I'm getting you wet," you say, and she cackles, tells you that you do that all the time. You don't get it at first, and when you do your cheeks turn scarlet. You cough slightly, and you wait for her to pull away, brush the water from her shirt and leave you to your own devices.
She doesn't pull away. She speaks into your shoulder, says she called Light and told him that that was a dick move on his part. "He has no right to be making outrageous demands like that, and he knows it. He's very sorry, and if he does what I told him he'll give you a call in the morning. That is, if Tsuki gets off the phone by then." Kiyomi nods towards the bedroom, and says that apparently Himiko thought it was a dick move too. "She's pretty angry with her father over the whole male heir fiasco. Tsuki's been listening to her rant for the past hour--I don't know about you, but I can totally picture them married."
Kiyomi keeps talking, but you've stopped hearing what she has to say. You grip the back of her blouse, pull her closer as you try to process what's been said to you. God was wrong? You weren't wrong for resenting him; your experience is relevant in God's eyes? You don't deserve to be drenched and exhausted right now?
Your wife struggles to free herself, you're holding on too tightly. "Teru," she says, "you should really change your clothes. Somehow I don't think that standing around in a wet coat is very comfortable. Probably isn't terribly healthy, either."
It's not comfortable, and you don't want to get sick, so you follow her into the bedroom. As you remove your sopping shirt you ask her what names she's thinking of for the baby. "Oh," she says. "I thought you'd already decided on Aborted Fetus. Changed your mind?"
It's not that you've changed your mind exactly. You're still not okay with disobeying God. But you think that maybe God can be unreasonable sometimes, and that it's Kiyomi's choice to make, not yours or God's or anybody else's. And you think that even if God will be angry, maybe Light won't care as much. "What do you have in mind?" you ask again, folding your dripping shirt and placing it in the hamper. Kiyomi eyes your bare chest hungrily. "I don't know," she says, "I was thinking about Sachiko for a girl, but then I remembered that that's Light's mom's name. So that would be weird. Can you think of something else?"
You can't. Your brain scans through alternate readings of God's name, Mori, Gatsu, Getsu, and all of God's relatives. Nothing else comes to mind. And Kiyomi says, "not Mori. Or Gatsu. Or Getsu. Or Sayu, Soichiro, or Sachiko. Not Kira. Not Light 2.0. Look, don't worry, we've got quite a few months to think up something that's got nothing to do with him."
With that, she sends a tee shirt whirling towards your head, and you have to step back to catch it. "Put your damn clothes on," she admonishes, laughing slightly. "I can't be held responsible for what I do to you if you don't."
I Hate Coffee - Quincy Punx
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Date: 2008-08-04 01:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-07 03:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-04 10:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-07 03:53 am (UTC)Thanks for your comment. Also, love the icon.
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Date: 2008-08-13 06:07 pm (UTC)I liked that Takada manages to stay sane, smart, and self-confident enough not to just mindlessly worship Kira. Or maybe it just shows just how insane Teru is, if he's still clinging to it long after she's given up; and I love the way he does get angry, or reassured by the fact he has a Death Note too, but keeps getting panicked by it...