A/N: Happy belated birthday, Raven-sama~. I wuff joooo.
Now do more MikaLight with me because you love him, and I'm going to need some srs fluff after all of this angst.
Anyways, please review this one…I believe it's my most pathetically devoted! Mikami yet, and it's the closest thing to LLight I will most likely ever write. .3.
PLUS, I TRIED TO FORMAT IT FOR ONCE. ;__;

I would like to take this time to thank Zelda. She edited this at, like, 3 AM. Not only that, but she picked out all of my mistakes and aided me in a marvelous way. I am in her debt.

-x-

With fingers pressed against the smooth glass, he looked at the ghost in the mirror.

The emaciated torso was ashen pale, sides quivering with each new breath, the hollow, exhausted

eyes gazing dismally into themselves. He lifted his hand, the apparition sinuously mimicking his

movement, and slowly brushed aside his unkempt bangs, extending the motion until he had

reached the choppy ends of his onyx hair.

As he continued to stare at his own parody, his own travesty into which he had deluded

himself, he couldn't help but breathe a singular word:

"God."

-x-

His God was in love with a man of many names. In his slumber, he would beautifully

murmur titles such as Ryuuzaki, Ryuuga, and L. The last he embellished with such passion, such

need, such sublime gentleness, that the first time it was uttered Mikami had felt as though

something within him had been rent horribly asunder. During the day he buried himself in work

with exceptional vigor, but the soft voice of God would mercilessly permeate his thoughts

whenever he took even a moment's rest. It echoed cruelly and wonderfully, longing,

magnificent, divine, and damning. He would cry out and dig his nails into his palm as his

eyes stung and burned, as he became breathless and infuriated and loathing of himself. He did

not deserve God's love. Teru was merely his servant, his hand, his disciple, his loyal dog until

death. He was the man that loved him with every fiber of his being, with every cell, with all of

his heart and soul, helpless and stupid due to human emotion. The prosecutor would be Kira's

infallible aide until he passed into the next world and perished, while this ghost haunted his God

even in death. He hated L and wished form him to be among those in the deepest cesspits of Hell,

but his adoration for his God was unparalleled.

-x-

Obtaining information on L's appearance had been a difficult and time consuming

procedure. His God would indulge him on rare occasions about the detective's peculiar habits,

his disheveled persona, his intelligence, and their battle for dominance. Kira would muse bitterly

over his time spent with the sleuth, perfect eyes distant and brooding.

Using what he had acquired, he had transformed himself into the other. While not

in Light's presence, he would adopt the strange mannerisms the other displayed and practice his

pronounced slouch. He would occasionally visit the local bakery and sample sweet delicacies,

but for most of his transformation he completely rejected both food and rest. According to his

calculations, the other man had been around ten to fifteen pounds lighter than he and possessed a

much leaner build. In order to achieve this, he had resorted to a simple method: starvation. He

would spend hours famished and trembling in his office, all the while keeping a tiny smile

plastered to his face. He was going to make his God happy, and that would bring him infinite

joy, even if a certain part of his chest would not cease aching.

For weeks he prepared himself in isolation- cutting his hair, purchasing make up and dark

contact lenses, losing his muscle mass and becoming a being of skin and bone- falsely explaining

to an unconcerned Light that he was needed for a case in another province and that he would be

absent for a good amount of time.

-x-

"A perfectly fabricated lie," Mikami murmured as he reached for a white shirt with long

sleeves. He had neglected himself flawlessly and created the ideal facsimile of the phantom that

troubled the divinity. "For you, my God, for you…please, grace me with your smile."

Removing his fingers from the glass, he left the ghost in the mirror as the clock struck

twelve.