A/N: I was reading up ways to annoy my lovable brother, Mello... so I decided to write a fic where I get to annoy Mikami! Akane Sukishima is my OC, and if I find anyone else using her name or her appearance, I swear I am going to go wild banshee. it hurts when a creation is stolen, you know. If you don't like to read th is sort of thing, then just skip it, genius. If you do want to read this, then go right ahead. What are you up here for? The fic's down there! (and since no one reads the disclaimer... just remember... i dunn think anyone but Oba-sama and Abada-sama own death note. If you're too stupid, and want to sue me, then... screw you.)

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Akane had spent years in the apartment across from the shadowy Teru Mikami, and had grown to recognize him from a mile away. Well, anyone could after only a few meetings with the strange character. The long dark hair, the stoic face, the glasses... they all gave him away at first glance. To her, he was anything but inconspicuous. Every morning at quarter to six, she would always stand in the hallway, leaning on her door, giving his door the creepiest stalker stare she could. Every time he walked out, he would look at her, then quicken his pace to increase the distance between them. She had started this a few weeks ago, after she had seen him doing something suspicious. He had left the front door of his apartment slightly open, and she had stuck her entire head inside. This was a pretty stupid idea, considering her extravagant blue and mirror silver hair, her mirror eyes and glowing white skin. This made her even more conspicuous than Teru Mikami. She had seemed to forget what her appearance was as she fixed the occupied man with an icy blank stare. He was writing in a Death Note. How she knew this? Lets just say... she was exceptional friends with Aizawa. She had recently started calling him Shu-chan, and booping him on the nose. He absolutely hated it. Still watching the prosecuter, her eyes widened. Every time he wrote a name down, he would fling his arm out and yell "delete". She was confused. She stepped back, and silently closed his door for him. She thought hard. Should she tell the task force about this? She had gone back into her apartment.

This particular morning, Akane sat outside her apartment, writing in a black notebook. She had spent all night constructing a mock-up death note. With a wide smile, she cheerily waved at her weird neighbour. He paused, looked at her, then froze.

"Ki-" he started, then stopped himself. "...What are you writing in?"

"A little forward today, aren't we?" she smiled. "I'm writing in a death note of course!"

The shock on Teru Mikami's face was undenyable. Understatement of the century. He dropped what he was carrying, which was a large load of books and a small case. Grimmacing at the loud clatter, he bent to pick all of his items back up. With an appologetic look, Akane dismissively returned to writing inside her "death note". A wide smile played across her face as the man headed away. Well, this could be some sort of entertainment. She really had nothing better to do. He was now at the end of the hallway. Following him closely, she made her footsteps loud, and noticeable. He glanced over his shoulder, then picked up his pace a little bit more. He was now at a slow jog. She carried the same pace, and was soon in step at his side. "Why did you give me a shocked look back there?" she wondered aloud, swinging her notebook lazily in her right hand. He was to her left. As they entered an elevator, he resigned himself to being stuck inside an elevator with the ever-constant yammering of Akane Sukishima. He just remained silent, his eyes on the notebook the entire time. He wondered if his name had been written in there. She grinned. Answering his thoughts, she giggled. "No, your name's not in there. I couldn't do that to my neighbour. Well... not right now at least." He visibly clenched his jaw. She cheered inside her head. Yes! He was falling for it hook, line and sinker! She edged a little closer, then all of a sudden dropped her pen. She just kept giving him a creepy smile, and he just stared back at her, wondering if she'd recently escaped from the nuthouse. Finally, for curtasy sake, he reached for the pen. She all of a sudden started bouncing on her toes and pulling his arm back away from the pen. "That's mine," she murmured. With a confused look on his face, he stepped out of the open elevator doors. Following him closely, she literally walked right behind him, and burried her face in his hair. He stopped walking, and she crashed into him. He kept his footing, but the tall girl collapsed, then stood up. "Sorry about that," she appologized.

He fixed her with an icy cold stare. She smirked, but returned the glare anyhow. He finally spoke up. "Any particular reason why you stuck your face in my hair?"

She shook her head with a casual "nope". He all of a sudden bolted. She followed, grinning all the while. As they exited the apartment building, he slowed to a walk, and glanced over his shoulder. He sighed loudly. She burst into peels of laughter. "What was that sigh for?" she questioned, still busting a gut. He glared at his laughing neighbour. But being somewhat patient, he just ignored her laughing. She didn't stop all the way across the street. Aside from repeated attempts to make him sit on a car, they made it across the road in less than twenty seconds. He was now keeping a safe distance of five feet between them. On the curb, she finally stopped laughing, and kept her cool. He picked up his pace, hoping she'd had enough. But, being an unfortunate man that day, she had not even started considering what she had in store for him today. She followed him at a five foot distance, keeping her feet silent on the sun-baked sidewalk. She dodged into shadows by the buildings if he happened to check for her. She finally found a safe distance of twenty feet to walk at. She still rolled her feet to avoid any foot noise while walking. Down on another street, she walked right up behind him and attempted to make him sit on the hood of another car. He dropped a book. Reaching for it, he was pushed down onto the hood of a car. She took out her cellphone and snapped a picture. She held in her laughter, and ran across the street ahead of him. Why he hadn't decided to drive his car was beyond her at this point. As aan annoyed-looking Teru Mikami stepped up onto the curb, she burst into another fit of laughter. "You actually sat on a car!" He glared at her, and ran down the sidewalk. She chased, but at a safe distance. As they neared his place of work, she slowed her pace, to avoid getting too close to the man. He looked like he could explode any second. He rushed inside, and she followed suit, her evil grin in place. He didn't notice her in his futile attempt to out-run her. He set his belongings down on a desk. Just as he was stepping away from it, he was tackled... by who else? The bluenette pinned the poor, unsuspecting man in a crusher hug. After a moment, he attempted at getting her to let go. Reaching around he tried desperately to unlock her fingers. She giggled, and tightened her grip.

"C-can't breathe...you psy-psychopathic girl..." he managed to mutter with his lack of air.

She smiled, and loosened her grip. The lady behind the desk where he'd dropped his books off at smiled. "There is nothing to do today, Mikami-san. Would you like the day off?" He couldn't answer, but the blue-haired girl certainly could.

"Yes, we have some catching up to do... are you sure he's free to leave? There's absolutely nothing today?" The secretary nodded, giving Akane a knowing smile. Akane returned it, but knew full-well that the secretary was thinking something totally out of Akane's reach now that she'd made him this mad. She grinned, tugging him along. He really wasn't dressed for anything special anyways. Just a pair of jeans and a dark blue long-sleeved shirt. She giggled some more, tugging him out of the office. He gave her a death glare, but she just smiled. "Come on, you uptight moron," she let him go, but held onto his arm tightly so he couldn't get away. "I'm showing you what fun is."

He reluctantly followed his long-time neighbour, and she pulled him all the way to ... the mall. He groaned loudly. "Why here?"

She grinned the grin that often made people wonder about her mental condition. "Because...it's man torture," she stated coolly, all the while dragging him through the heavyglass doors. Once inside, she still hadn't relinquished her grip. "Take a look around," she prompted. "This is what girls call absolute heaven to the top, and what guys call... a horror story."

The look on his face when he looked at the rows and rows of stores let her know that he went with the guy's perspective. She giggled. "Oh come on. Don't tell me you've only been here once before," she shook her head. He nodded. "And it was horrific. And I'm sure it'll be worse with you around," he tried to pull his arm from her grasp. She only clung to it tighter. "You don't get away that easily, Mikami." They, on any speaking terms, had always refered to each other with their last names.

Another loud sigh from the long-haired man sealed his fate. She dragged him down through the mall. Once or twice, she stopped to give people weird stares when they snickered at the fact that the prosecuter was being dragged around by japan's nuttiest girl. she stopped in the middle of the mall. He wondered why. She didn't say why. They just stood there. All of a sudden, she leaned over, and whispered into his ear "You have been malled."

He jumped, then shot her another icy stare. She returned it with a laugh. "Scared ya!" He grew indignant. "No you didn't."

"Yeah, I so did!"

"No, Sukishima. You did not."

"I did! I'm serious! You jumped!"

"I did not jump!"

"Yeah you did. You totally jumped! Just like this!"

"I don't jump like that."

"How do you know?"

Their bickering continued as they stood in the middle of the mall. A few people were now catching this on video.

"I just... I just know."

"Sure you do! You know you jump like this!"

"I dont' flail when I jump!"

"You did before."

"That was... forget it."

"Forget what, Mikami?"

He shook his head, sighing loudly. She chuckled. "You sigh alot. Sleep bad or something?" Another glare. He really wanted to slap this girl across the face. She was getting seriously annoying. She knew this, but she didn't stop.

Pulling him to an exit door, she realized. They'd wasted half an hour inside the mall. She grinned. "Come on, Mikami." She dragged him out. Finally she let go of his arm. He didn't move. He was still fixing her with that stare of his. She stared back. He looked at her. She looked at him. He looked at her, she looked at him. She sighed. "Fine... fine." clamping her fingers around his wrist, she dragged him back to the apartment building. A greatful smile crossed his face momentarily, and they entered the elevator. What she hadn't told him was that she had let this little boy have a bag of gummy bears earlier today while she had been following him to work. The little boy lived next door to Akane. He had licked them and stuck them all over the elevator. She burst into giggles. "Smart Kenta-chan." It was a cutesy name she'd come up with for Kentaro. He was nine years old, and often took part in her escapades to annoy others. Kenta, you've done well, she thought happily. The man who she was latched onto froze. "What happened here?"

Akane walked in, and with a latex glove over her hand, shoved the gummies into a small bag, and put that in her pocket. "Kentaro happened," she smiled. She slid the glove into her pocket, and looped her arm through Mikami's. He tried to shake her off. Akane found this was a much safer method of keeping him with her. It was easier to cling this way. he kept at least a foot of distance. This was all he could due to her wrapping her arms around his right arm. At the floor they both lived on, she lead him to her apartment door. " I've gotta talk to you about somethin'," she muttered, opening her door with a quick twist of her key. Once inside, she pushed him down on the couch, withholding her laughter at the look on his face for later. The door was closed, and she sat on the oposite side of the couch from him. He waited. She waited. He waited. She waited. She finally held up the book in her hand. She slid off the death note cover to reveal...

His calendar.

"How did you get a hold of that?!" he gasped, reaching for it. She held it out of his reach. "No no, Mikami. You have to answer something for me first. What were you doing a few weeks ago with those papers in your apartment?"

He looked confused. She elaborated. "You were writing stuff down in that book, then swinging your arm around and yelling delete. What was all that about?"

"How did you come to know I was doing that in the first place?" he returned her questioning stare. She sighed. "You're too dim to notice you left your door open."

He looked surprised. "But it was closed!" Akane smirked. "Yeah, after I closed it for you. And after watching you screaming delete at a notebook while flailing around."

She couldn't help but giggle. It was a rather ridiculous way to put it, but that's what he was doing. Down to a T. He stood up. "You know, Sukishima, I think it's time I leave." He reached for the doorknob. She stood up quickly. "No!"

He opened the door. She tackled him to the ground, and pinned him down with her arms. "No you don't. My imaginary friend will be sad!"

He gave her a look as if to say 'why should I care? and what are you talking about?'. She smiled. But it wasn't any normal smile. It was a scary smile. It slowly grew across her face. "Unless..." she slid her hand into one of his jeans pockets. He shivvered. This was slightly creepy. And anyone passing by would think that... he stopped his mind there. No one was going to pass by. And it probably didn't look as horrific as he thought it might. But the horrible truth was, it did. She pulled out a small notebook. It was the Death Note! She held it up. "Unless you would like me to keep this." She let him stand up, but not before dodging inside her apartment with the death note in hand, and she slammed and locked the door. He paced the hallway. She couldn't live in there forever. Okay... maybe she could stay there for a few weeks. But... then he gasped. She knew his face and his name... and how to spell his name, at that. He knocked on her door quietly. She opened it, smile in place. "Yes, Mikami?"

How on earth does she do that? Act like nothing's happened? He looked at her face. "Can I have the Death Note back please?" His chilly tone of voice wasn't getting him anywhere she proved, as she shook her head.

"No no, m'dear! I have good plans in store for those thugs downstairs." As she mentioned thugs, her face twisted into a snarl, so she more growled the word. Mikami never saw this side of her. She was always this happy-go-lucky girl who always wanted to annoy everybody. But...

But his analysis returned... with a smack to the face. literally. The death note flew into his face, and a self-satisfied "Yes!" was heard from inside her small living quarters. He caught the notebook, and whirled on his heels. Dashing into his apartment building, the blue-clad man slammed his door unnecissarily loud. Akane flopped down on her couch. That wasn't one of her best annoying escapades. She, in all truth, had started to hold some respect for the man. In thinking this, she threw her hands in the air. "Tch, yeah right!"

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A/N: maybe I'll post a better version of this some time. Just enjoy it as it is, though. If you didn't like this, then... I don't blame you. I got sick of writing it. I started feeling a little too sorry for Mikami after the "you've been malled" thing. But, review nonetheless.