Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, nor anything related to it in anyway. I am not making any profit off of this.

AN: After rabidly reading Death Note, I quickly latched on to Teru Mikami as my favorite character of the series. I wanted to experiment with the idea of a Mikami who used to hold faith in not only God, but also the people he let in his life. In this case a character I made up, his wife. It takes place after Mikami received the deathnote, and after Kyomi Takada became the spokesperson for KIRA, but before Mikami's death, otherwise I couldn't write this...ha.

I've used Japanese words, because I just can't think of a short, accurate English translation. So I have included a glossary at the end.

This is written as a one-shot, but if there is demand, I will make it a multi-chapter story, but it will take a while, because I am finishing up another story and halfway through another yet to be posted. So read, enjoy, tell me what you think. Please inform me of any typos.

Abrasions

by lmh

abrasion: 1 a a wearing, grinding, or rubbing away by friction (Merriam-Webster English Dictionary).
Moemi sighed to herself as she fingered the laundry. Everything was still damp, of course. Nothing would dry quickly in this weather. It was nearing December, her constant need for a sweater reminded her of that daily. The sweater reminded her of her condition, not that she could possibly forget that.

Nothing fit her anymore. She had been rather late on the uptake, and only managed to buy a few maternity items. Teru's sweaters were the only things that wrapped all the way around her.

The wind picked up, forcing her back into the apartment. She gently closed the balcony door behind her and walked into the kitchen. Wrapping her arms around her belly, she stared blankly at the refrigerator. Somewhere in the background she heard the noise of the early evening news on the television.

As she reached for the handle, she remembered that she hadn't been to the supermarket yet. Opening the fridge, she saw that there wasn't much to make a dinner for two, no, three.

Her eyes wandered to the wall clock above the garbage, it was already five thirty. Definitely not enough time to go out and shop. If he wasn't putting in overtime tonight, Teru would be home soon.

He would be home soon, she repeated to herself.

There would be no time for her to shop, she wouldn't even leave if she had time, she thought.

She slowly came out of her daze and realized her hand had slipped up to the dark spot on her cheek. Pressing lightly, she winced. She didn't need to look in the mirror to know there was a bruise there. Oh yes, she thought, this is why I can't go out. If any of her friends saw the bruise, they would know immediately. It was just the sort of thing that didn't need an explanation.

Closing the refrigerator, she decided that she would have to order in. Sushi would be fine, she thought. There was plenty of rice available, so she didn't have to worry about that, and she was sure that she could put together a simple salad.

Then she vaguely wondered if he would actually eat any of it.

Of course he would, she thought as she moved to the phone. He always ate whatever she gave him, no complaints. She had no actual idea of what his favorite foods were, he seemed to like everything. Well, except for sweets, but she could only tell when he crinkled his nose the tiniest bit. She smiled at the thought.

But it soon turned bitter on her mouth. Where had all those feelings gone?

She placed her order with quick dispatch. It was something that she was doing a lot lately. She was just too tired to leave the apartment. There were so many things getting her down.

After tossing a light salad and putting the rice on, she went and sat in front of the television to wait for the sushi to arrive. She sighed again, realizing that all she ever did anymore was wait. Wait for sushi to be delivered, wait for Teru to come home, wait for her baby to be born. Their baby, she corrected.

She never thought that the life of a housewife would be so lacking.

But then again, when she married Teru, everything was different. She never thought that…

Her hand found its way to the bruise again. It was like something out of the daytime dramas she glanced at everyday. She knew these sort of things happened all the time, but not to her, until it did happen.

She couldn't say that he wouldn't do such a thing, but he would never do it to her. He had always protected her, fiercely sometimes.

But then again, ever since the day she laid eyes on him, she could see something there. It was subtle and he barely let it show, but she could see it.

At first it was the way he held himself, the way he walked and talked. It was a dark intellect and a detachment from the world. He didn't go out of his way to talk to people, but he never refused someone if they wanted to make friends. He tolerated everyone and everything as if it was all temporary, and he had only a little more time until…he could do something.

It intrigued her, drew her to him. Then she saw what it really was.

It was in his eyes. A deep, searing hatred hid behind them. He veiled it very well, but she could see the intense contempt he held for everything around him.

Maybe that's what drew her to him, in some twisted way. He scared the shit out of her, but she always found herself liking him more. Maybe that's why he accepted her. She was special, she got it.

However, she wanted to know what had changed between now and then.

He was more confident now. The things that came out of his mouth were bizarre and eerily frightening at times. He was not the man she married.

She hadn't realized that she dozed off until she heard the front door open.

"I'm home," she heard his faint voice from the genkan. She involuntarily tensed.

Shaking it from her, she forced herself off the sofa to greet him. A chill came over her shoulders and reached her cheeks as she wondered if it would happen again.

She walked from the living room through the hallway to see him standing in the genkan, taking off his coat. He was wearing the pinstriped suit today, she noticed with a frown. He almost always wore plain black suits. He deposited his umbrella in the large ceramic potter before moving to take off his shoes.

"Welcome home," she said automatically. She stole a quick glance at his face, for anything, but of course he wasn't letting anything show.

She stepped into a pair of slippers and joined him in the genkan. Her hands and mouth moved without her having to think.

"How was work," she heard herself say.

Her hands moved up around his shoulders to help him with his coat. She gently slid it off and folded it over her forearm.

"Fine," he said, no more, no less.

She felt something go off inside her head. Of course it was normal for husbands and wives not to share the details of their daily exploits with each other, but Teru was different. He always shared little tidbits of his cases with her.

But things were different now, she thought. They were forever changed because of him.

"What's for dinner?" he asked as he picked up his briefcase and made his way past her.

"I didn't know what to do, there wasn't much in the fridge, so I just ordered sushi," she replied and paused as he turned to look at her. Their eyes met for the first time today. "Is that all right?" she asked, wondering why she felt afraid that he would suddenly develop a dislike for sushi.

He shook his head. "It's fine," he said. Examining her closer, he frowned. She didn't need to look at him to know that he was staring at the bruise. "You didn't go shopping today?"

She shook her head. She almost said, I couldn't go out, but did some quick thinking. "I just didn't have the energy," she said instead.

His gaze slowly moved to her abdomen, which began to feel uncomfortable with his staring. She put her hand over her stomach, almost protectively, as if she was trying to shield the unborn child from…just what, she wondered.

His eyes went back to her face. She couldn't keep herself from blushing as she averted her eyes. Without warning, his hand reached up to her face. Her heart started to beat faster. But his fingertips barely grazed her cheek before he thought better of it and moved away.

Letting out the breath she was holding, she went to hang up his coat as he turned the corner. As she put it in the closet with the rest of their outerwear, she could faintly smell the mixture of their scents. She leaned into the closet, taking in a deep breath. Her nose was so accustomed to the smells, she could clearly define what was hers and what was his.

There was the soft floral scent with a hint of citrus, then there was the light, barely there scent of his cologne. Just one whiff brought so many things to her mind. She thought of sakura in the spring, sweet potatoes and acorns in the fall. How long had it been since they sat down and ate a freshly steamed sweet potato together?

The sound of dishes clanking in the kitchen brought her back to the real world. Leaving her memories with the coats, she rushed into the living room to find Teru setting out chopsticks and napkins. She caught him just in time as he reached for plates and soy sauce dishes. He knew that the kitchen was her territory, ever since he forbade her to enter the study. It was her sad attempt at maintaining some control.

"What are you doing?" she said as she scurried to take the plates from him.

As she grabbed the plates out of his hands, her bulging belly bumped him in the stomach.

"Sorry," she mumbled as she quickly walked around him and placed the plates on the table. She didn't dare look at his face to see his reaction. "You'll have to wait a while, until the sushi is delivered."

"That's fine," he said, relinquishing the plates to her.

That's fine, it's fine, fine, she thought. That's all he ever said anymore.

He unbuttoned his suit jacket as he walked over to the television. Draping it over the sofa back, he settled himself in to watch the news. He immediately turned the channel to NHN.

She let out a barely audible sigh as she went about the dining table with the plates. Before it was always the vulgar Sakura TV that he watched. Now he only watched NHN when he was home. He especially watched that ridiculous KIRA show with that Kyomi Takada.

Moemi loathed that woman. The way she walked around like she was some queen, she certainly thought she was. Moemi had met her once, when Teru was on a television debate in Tokyo last year. Kyomi Takada was the moderator, and had favored Teru throughout the entire debate.

She didn't have anything against Kyomi Takada at first, but when Moemi found out that Teru had been on several dinner dates with her, well, she blew her top.

It was their first argument. Four years of dating and marriage, and they had never fought. She thought they were doing so well compared to all her friends. Her perfect fairy tale was ruined because Kyomi Takada.

What made her angry the most was how Teru never tried to deny any of it. He didn't see what the problem was. Well of course he wouldn't, she thought.

When the doorbell rang, she realized that she had been staring at the table top for who knows how long.

Teru looked back at her when it rang for a second time. Glancing in his direction, she saw him frown at her. I suppose, she thought. Staring at nothing and walking around in a dream-like state would seem strange to anyone.

"I'll get it," she unnecessarily said and walked to the front door.

That was fast, she thought as she paid the delivery man. 1500 yen for the fastest sushi in Kyoto.

When she came back to the main room, Kyomi Takada's face on the television greeted her. It was six o' clock already. Everyday she had to listen to this crap. But it was what Teru wanted to watch. She had always known that when he wanted something, it wasn't in his nature to give up.

"Teru," she quietly called.

He peeled his eyes away from the television and walked over to her, taking the sushi from her hands.

"Can we not watch that tonight?" she asked nervously.

As she looked up to see his reply, she hoped that maybe, just maybe he would give her a smile and say 'okay'.

Though what she saw in his eyes chilled her to the bone. He was staring at her, his face expressionless. But the power behind his eyes frightened her. It was the same look he gave her the night before, the moment before the bruise.

She dropped the change in her hand out of pure shock. Letting out a breath she broke eye contact and glanced down. Coins were scattered around her feet, but she wasn't even thinking of that. All she could think about was that terrifying look. For a second she was sure he was going to do it again.

Bending down to pick up the coins, she felt a hard thud in her abdomen. She fell to her knees as she let out a cry.

Teru set the sushi on the counter before kneeling down beside her. He put his hands around her shoulders.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head. "It's just the baby kicking."

He glanced her way before letting out a short sigh. He gripped her harder and pulled her to her feet.

"Don't push yourself," he said as he led her to the table. She felt like protesting, but as he pushed her into a chair, she thought better of it.

She watched him walk back to the kitchen. He was so…stiff, she thought. His black hair, his black suit, grey shirt and white tie, everything was so dark and stiff. All the color was gone. Only shades of the past were left.

He gathered the scattered coins and placed them on the counter. Picking up the sushi, he walked over to the table and distributed the pieces quickly and precisely. Walking back to the kitchen, he deposited the plastic box in the recycling. He dished up the rice before retrieving two glasses from the cupboard and reached into the refrigerator for the oolong tea.

Coming back to the table, Moemi noticed him glance at the television. Kyomi Takada was busy listing off people to be judged and the message of KIRA. Moemi risked a frown before Teru turned towards the table.

He poured them both some oolong tea before sitting opposite of her. She glanced out the balcony window before looking at him. To her dismay, he was balancing his concentration between her and the television, between her and Kyomi Takada.

He looked her in the eye before holding up his chopsticks between his palms. Moemi did the same.

"Itadakimasu," they said in unison.

She reached for the soy sauce and poured some for them both. Without a word he began to eat the sushi. She watched his for some sign of displeasure or enjoyment, but there was nothing. He ate with a blank face, without any indication if he thought the sushi was any good or not. She supposed that she could feed him almost anything and he would eat it just the same.

She dug into her rice bowl and gathered clumps of rice in her mouth. Meals were always like this now. No conversation, with the background noise of NHN and Kyomi Takada. Teru wasn't watching the television anymore, but he was still listening. She saw his eyebrows twitch at certain things that he heard. At one point he turned his head and frowned at the television.

Moemi let out a silent sigh as she watched him. She put her rice bowl and chopsticks down and stared at her hands. How many dinners like this lay ahead? When would he stop caring so much about KIRA? Is this how it's going to be for the rest of her life? What...about...the baby?

She took a few sips of oolong tea and closed her eyes. She wasn't hungry anymore.

"Are you not going to eat?" he said.

She opened her eyes and looked at him across the table. His gaze was gentle, but it didn't feel right. Perhaps she was being paranoid, but she could see that he was a fraction away from giving her that look again.

She shook her head. "I…I'm just not that hungry," she said. It was true. She had no appetite. She didn't eat lunch today, and she barely had anything for breakfast. She wanted to believe that it was because of the pregnancy, but she knew it was something else.

"You need to eat, for the baby," he said.

She paused at the comment. Was his concern for real? The last time he had an interest in the baby was a long, long time ago.

"I…know," she mumbled. The food seemed to ripple like waves in front of her eyes; she couldn't focus her concentration.

She could feel his eyes boring into her. He was glaring at her, she knew it. He was going to do it again.

"Moemi," he said, bidding her to speak.

Fear gripped her and refused to let her think properly. She closed her eyes again, not wanting to look at him. She didn't want to see his face. What would she do if he did it again? Should she leave the apartment? But where would she go? None of her friends would take her in. But she couldn't stay if he did it again, she wouldn't stand for such a thing. But that was the kind of thinking that made him do it in the first place. What could she…

"You're afraid of me now, aren't you?"

Her eyes snapped open. She looked up to see him still gazing at her. His eyes, was that regret she saw in them? Or was it disappointment in her? She couldn't tell.

Fear. She was afraid of him, yes. Not just from last night, but before that, forever before that.

Her mind cleared. Putting a hand over her belly, she turned her eyes down.

"I think," she began quietly. "I think that I was always afraid of you. But I also think that's what drew me to you."

He was quiet for a few moments. Then he put down his bowl and chopsticks.

"Moemi," he said.

"You terrify me, Teru," she said, finally getting it out. She had known for a long time, but now she was going to tell him, no matter what he did to her.

"I can't explain it. It's as if you hate everything and everyone; but you let me in, for some reason. I felt that I understood you, and I thought that was all we needed."

"And now?" he asked.

Now? What could she do now? She couldn't go back to the way things were. He was different, she was different. Change is inevitable. But…

Now? Where could she go from here?

Once again, if there is demand, I will continue this, just give me time to organize my stuff. Please tell me what you think.
Glossary

Genkan: Virtually all Japanese houses have an area in the front of the house called a genkan. It means the front door or the foyer. When entering the house, one takes off their shoes and outerwear and stows them in a closet or whatever. The genkan is considered as still being outside the house. So once one steps up and out, one officially enters the house. Genkan are usually tiled surfaces.

Sakura: Pretty obvious, but I'll list it anyway. Cherry blossoms. They bloom for about a week starting in Kyushu and ending in Hokkaido. Usually pink and not much of a scent, but pretty never the less. The object of many a sad Japanese poem or story.

Itadakimasu: Meaning "to receive a thing". It's said at any time one eats something, to thank everyone and everything under the sun that brought the meal to one's hands. It must be said at every meal, or people will become uncomfortable...really uncomfortable.