Standard disclaimers apply. See other fanfictions for details.

After the Kiras defeat Near, Mikami gets sick. DX


Pale digits wrapped around the cold metal of the doorknob, Mikami Teru opening the door of his apartment and dropping his briefcase. It landed with a gentle thud, the noise sending waves of pain pulsing through the male's head.

"God, I have returned." He sat down awkwardly, removing his shoes with clumsy fingers. He rose to his feet on shaking legs, taking a deep breath and entering the living room. His God was on his couch, eyes trained on the television. The other male paid the older no heed, continuing to watch The Lion King even after Mikami was sure his presence was known. Both remained silent. After several minutes the screen blinked to commercials; Light turned to Mikami with a bored expression on his face. He perked to attention upon seeing his servant. Teru was ashen pale, strands of onyx hair plastered to his shining face. His whole body seemed to quiver, golden orbs filled with distracted admiration.

"How are you, Teru?" Light frowned slightly, getting up and pressing the back of his hand to Mikami's cheek. The damp skin burned against his.
"I-I am fine." Mikami smiled weakly, ignoring the growing nausea within him. "Is there anything I can do for you, God?"
"You can stop lying to me."
"I'm sorry, God. I did not wish to bother you with my condition..." Mikami's head bowed in regret, eyes flickering towards the hallway. His throat was too dry, his stomach rocking against the sides of his ribs. He had held his bile so far; he did not wish to disgrace himself in front of God. "If you will please excuse me, I do not feel well at all…" He quickly walked towards the bathroom, vaguely aware of the chestnut-haired male following him.


Saliva dripped from his lips, hands clasping onto either side of the porcelain bowl. He coughed lightly, eyes rolling in the sockets. Mikami felt so sick. Light's presence bothered him infinitely, the divine being crossing his arms and standing in the threshold, cold eyes boring in to his back.
He coughed suddenly, beginning to regurgitate the little food he had eaten that morning.
Why did Light have to watch? He felt humiliated, being so disgusting and human in the face of God. He coughed again. More yellow liquid poured from his mouth. His hair draped over his face, blocking his vision. Mikami felt movement behind him. Light bent down and sat next to his servant with a small sigh. With one hand he gathered Teru's hair, taking all the strands and holding them gingerly, while with the other he gently stroked the disciple's back.
Light uttered not a word and he didn't need to. Mikami's heart pounded in his chest, every cell of his being celebrating that he had such a merciful and kind Lord.

With a final convulsion Mikami cleaned out his stomach, hand reaching for the top of the toilet. His fingers grazed the trigger that made it flush, the contraption dropping ever so slightly before rebounding. The effort was too great on his haphazard balance, the sick prosecutor falling backwards and into Light's arms. He flailed weakly for a second before going completely limp. His God continued to stroke his hair, a sympathetic look gracing his perfect features.
"What happened to you, my pet?" Light asked quietly, carefully moving Teru's bangs out of his eyes. The servant shivered when their skin contacted.
"I had a special case in which a lot of pressure was put on my shoulders. The stress must have weakened my immune system, milord." He shifted. With unsteady legs he rose to his feet, flushing the toilet as he did so. "May I please rest today? I can not pass judgment; I regret to say that I am too tired."
Gratitude rose up in his chest when his God nodded. Without more words he hobbled off to his bedroom and quickly changed into his pajamas. He crawled into his bed where sleep took over him; he drowned in the warm, black bliss.


Mikami Teru's eyes fluttered open at the utterance of his name, the golden orbs slowly trying to adjust to the light. His God's clean smell permeated his senses. His presence surprised Teru; however, his request shocked him more.

"Open your mouth."
The demand was obeyed, a spoon heaping with delicious broth and chunks of chicken and vegetables entering his mouth. Mikami savored the taste, swallowing the soup and smiling weakly. Light continued to feed his right hand, the prosecutor consuming the entire bowl he had prepared eagerly. His God's food was heavenly; each spoonful brought new strength to his tired body. Teru felt as though he would burst from the warmth growing within him; it pounded against the walls of his veins and arteries, adoration drowning out the sickness.
"Do you feel better?" Light asked kindly, running his hand through Mikami's hair. The question was met with an enthusiastic nod, and the God smiled. It was a brilliant, innocent grin. "Go back to sleep now." The older male felt his God shift to leave; something warm and soft caressed his forehead. "We'll see how you are in the morning. Good night, my angel."

After his God had left, Mikami found his hand touching the skin Light's lips had graced, a blush not from the sickness scarring his cheeks. He felt the other male lie down next to him some time later.
"You're still awake?" His tone was amused. The prosecutor nodded slowly, moving towards Light in a slow, questioning manner. He only watched with interested, brown eyes as his disciple wrapped his arms around his torso, placing his head on his chest.
"May I sleep like this, please?" Teru asked quietly.
He took the careful tilting of his head and the gentle press of God's lips against his own as a 'yes' and once more succumbed to the merry world of dreams.