Kami.

Mikami was beside himself with joy. If he were to be entirely honest (and of course, he would be: Kami would expect nothing less of him, and Mikami would sooner die a hundred, no a thousand times over before he would willingly do something to disappoint his Kami. The thought alone was enough to make him want to throw himself at Kami's feet and beg for forgiveness of a transgression that hadn't yet been committed.), Mikami had never truly imagined he'd make it to this point, never thought he'd have the chance (the honor, the blessing) of laying his eyes upon Kami. Surely he wasn't worthy (not him, not Mikami Teru, an average, insignificant lawyer, a mere mortal as imperfect and as capable of sin as any), but Kami had commanded Mikami to look (had deemed him worthy enough to bear witness), and Mikami would not question Kami, would not disobey (never, never, he had sworn, fervent and loyal).

His Kami was beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning.

No, none of those words were right: they were bland, pale, pathetic descriptions of Kami, insults to the divine being. Even magnificent seemed unsuitable, didn't ring right, made an intolerable mockery of Kami.

Magnificent didn't convey the smooth, even complexion of Kami's flesh, a warm, light golden shade that seemed as if the possessed the light of the sun within it (glowing, radiating warmth and all good things onto Mikami).

Magnificent didn't detail the chestnut locks of Kami's hair, highlighted with the moon (and Mikami was the tide, completely and utterly controlled by Kami's whims and plans and desires).

Magnificent didn't explain the way Kami held himself, all the confidence and surety of his plans, of his place in the world (the way Mikami had never been, not until his Kami had given him his purpose, told him where Mikami was supposed to be, taken away all of the confusion by taking away all of the wrong choices, leaving only one path, Kami's ).

Magnificent didn't impart the way Kami's eyes, amber orbs, held all the stars in the sky (Mikami would spend the rest of his life counting them all, losing track and starting over, never tiring of the self-imposed task).

Magnificent didn't express how Kami's mouth gave orders, spun lies, revealed the great truths of life, and captivated, held the hold world (and Mikami was but a speck in those eyes, didn't matter in the long-run, but that was okay because Kami said it was, and Kami was always right).

No, magnificent was a horrid word for Mikami's Kami, and he wouldn't stand for its offence (a decision made after being privy to Kami destroying the one who dared to oppose him, the albino child that had thought he could defy Kami and live).

What Kami was (is, will always be): perfect.


Author's Note:

As always, comments and feedback are much adored! Let me know what you think, and I'll love you forever. It feeds my muse, so that means more frequent updates as well.

Hope to hear from you,

Lex