Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

AN: So this is a story I have already completed on paper with pen. It was written for a friend of mine who really adored this pairing. I decided to post a short incerpt of it onto fanfiction just to get some feedback. If all goes well, I may decide to type up the entire story and post it. This story is in no way related to 'Ugly Duckling', which was made in the spur of the moment, and revolves around a more cutesy, OOC genre. This story is very serious, and focuses on the more fanatical aspects of our dark-haired bishounen. (Mikami Teru, I mean.).

If you would like for this to continue, please let me know :)

Again, reviews are always appreciated, to help me improve my writing, or to simply tell me how you are liking the story so far.

Also, I would like to add I do not add spellcheck, so forgive me if there are any minor error anywhere along the way. Correct me if you wish.

-Sunny

Chapter 1

The Door to God

. The phone blinked red.

Mikami Teru closed his dry eyes, rolling them around beneath his lids before reopening them again.

. The phone blinked red again.

His wiry pale hand hovered centimetres above the cellular, watching with baited breath as the red light flashed once more.

"KAMI!"

The phone was pressed with more force than necessary against the man's ear, his bloodshot eyes wide open. The black rims of his glasses slipped down his nose, his raven hair a wild mess. One cheek of his face was slightly red-tinged from leaning it on the table for far too long prior.

"Mikami Teru."

The smooth, flawless tenor pierced through the phone and straight into his eardrums. Mikami sucked in a breath, his lips trembling. There was no doubt in his mind, that the voice over the phone belonged to God-for only He could possess such a tone of refined authority, elegant and perfect in everyway. If Mikami had not already been sitting, his knees would most certainly have collapsed on him then. It was a good thing for him that such a thing did not happen. The man simply clutched the phone tighter against the side of his face. This small, red device that was pressed against his ear, this small device that emitted the voice of God-was all that mattered to Mikami Teru.

"Yes, Kami?" Mikami asked, masking the tremor of his voice with the calm, composed façade he reserved for only the severest of occasions; the occasions where he was losing his lawsuit, and needed to add in some extra bluff. But this was no court case-he was not debating against some felony who committed atrocious acts-he was speaking with God.

"Listen to me carefully." the gentle, yet sharp voice instructed. "I need for you to do me a small favour. Are you going to be up for it?"

"Of course, my Kami." Mikami replied, biting his tongue in order to suppress the overwhelming emotions buzzing around in his head, lest they escape through his mouth. "I would do anything for you, my Kami."

"Good."

There was a pregnant pause over the line. For a brief second, Mikami panicked. Had God hung up on him? Had he been deemed unworthy of His trust? Had Mikami possibly done something to offend God? He did not dare utter a sound, in fear of defying God, and yet by doing so fell in fear of abandonment.

"Mikami Teru, are you still there?"

"Yes, my Kami." Mikami breathed, his body slumping forward onto the polished mahogany table in front of him.

"I will only say this once, so pay close attention." God said. "I am going to have Kiyomi Takada phone you up at exactly 10'oclock p.m. Let your blackberry ring for three rings, and then pick up. She will instruct you further then."

And before Mikami could make any noise of agreement, the line went dead.

.

.

.

.

Five… four…three…two…one….

The red, digital numbers shifted to display four clean new digits. 10:00.

The phone rang.

Mikami should not have jumped at that. He had been expecting the call all along. Yet, knowing that someone was as punctual-and perhaps even more than himself-was just a little unnerving.

"Hello?"

"Mikami, this is Kiyomi." The arrant, self-important voice of a woman floated through the speaker. "I have a message for you. I have been instructed to say this only once, so listen closely. Activate the spare phone of yours. In approximately fifteen minutes, go down to your car and enter it. There, you will receive a text message including an address in which you will drive to. Bring the Notebook with you. Further details will be given to you then."

And the line went dead.

Mikami spared not a second in unlocking the cabinet in his private bedroom, carefully extracting the extra smart phone he had kept in case of an emergency, as ordered by God. The fresh SIM card was clicked inside as he tucked it swiftly into his back pocket. In less than a minute, he had gathered his black, leather briefcase and slipped the Death note securely in.

He sat in his black BMW, waiting patiently with everything in place. The outside world drowned in the dark of the evening, only lit occasionally by the scant street lamps that lined the sidewalk. Mikami's eyes wandered over to his watch, the barely audible ticking noises reaching his sensitive ears and hammering them raw.

It was then that a vibration prodded the side of the attorney's leg. His hand flew swiftly to retrieve his blackberry, raising it eagerly to his nose.

[Teito Hotel. Room 716.

10:50 p.m.

Four knocks. ]

That was all Mikami needed to see.

In a matter of minutes, the man was parked a block away from the hotel. Once he was certain his car was safely in place, he proceeded to the large complex with his briefcase snug under his armpit. Each stride enclosed the distance between him and God. It was almost too painful to bear, as he drew closer and closer to the bright entrance of the building.

Of course, Mikami Teru could not hope to see God in person tonight. In truth, Mikami was more positive than not, that God had left some form of directions for him to follow inside the hotel room, or perhaps that woman-that Kiyomi-would be there. Mikami shuddered in distaste as the automatic doors ushered him into the warm, bright lobby of the hotel. Oh, how he detested that woman, whom was able to speak with God on a leisure, whereas he could only hope to hear a sentence being uttered form his mouth every once in a blue moon. Sometimes, not even that was possible.

Mikami made his way to the elevator, keeping his straightest face. If he were to arouse any suspicion, it would only mean that he would be putting Him in danger. Such a mistake could not be tolerated. Mikami would never do anything to harm his God.

On the seventh floor, Mikami felt his heart pounding against his ribcage, almost jumping into his throat as he refrained from ripping down the hall. His eyes counted the passing room numbers meticulously. 212...214.….

216.

This was it. Beyond this door, was everything and anything. The man lifted his sleeves to chec k his watch. 10:50. Mikami took one deep breath, and brought his white knuckles to the wood.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

The door clicked open. Mikami pushed his sluggish body, which had only moments ago stood steadfast, into the room. The heavy door snapped shut behind him. He heard the faint noises of a television program, which he recognized as the evening news replayed at the later time. He smelt sweet, expensive wine in the air.

He saw a man, with delicate auburn hair settled languidly on a black leather armchair, pale hands folded neatly in his lap. The stranger wore a white dress shirt, a red tie adorned on his neck. Piercing Sephia eyes regarded Mikami.

"Good evening, Mikami Teru."

The briefcase toppled out from under his arm.

.

"KAMI!"

So how was it? =_= If you want this to continue, just message or review or something, and I'll get back to you ASAP.

Thanks for Reading. :)