Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ Intruder ❯ Intruder = Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

FYI, for this fic, Mystique is approximately in her late teens. GeneWeiss has no idea of her past because she is, as clearly described by her name, mysterious…

 

 

 

Intruder - Chapter 1

 

 

 

With his arms folded behind his back, Muraki Kazutaka stared out of the window, looking at the morose pearl black sky. Rain droplets hailed against the window, dripping rapidly downwards towards the city drains. Lightening flashed out from the background, folding themselves into waves of undulating colours, radiating its chilliness into the room. Within the room, furniture and chemistry equipments sat in their places. All were wrapped in deadly silence but filled with purpose. Then came a knock.

 

 

“Enter,” he said, keeping his gaze onto the skies.

 

 

The door opened. A cloaked figure entered. Droplets of water trickled down from its raincoat, forming puddles onto the carpeted floor. The figure stood where it was, waiting for the doctor to speak. Taking off his glasses, he carefully wiped the senses. He put them back on and shifted his attention at the cloaked visitor who remained a few inches away from the door. Its face was cleverly concealed by the hood of its raincoat.

 

 

“Come forward,” he beckoned.

 

 

The cloaked figure obeyed, taking one step at a time. He continued watching, contemplating every single move it could possibly make. At a sensible conversation distance, the figure stopped. A smile came to Muraki but his lips felt stiff and fake. Till now, his shadowy guest showed no signs of treacherous intentions. In his judgment, this creature had the makings of an apprentice. Alas, he had neither the reason nor patience to intake one.

 

 

“Take off your coat,” he said, seeing his guest still persisted to remain in its robotic posture.

 

 

Nodding its head, the cloaked figure raised its hands towards its chest where a thread ribbon was held. Muraki saw they were covered with white leather gloves. Holding the ends of the thread, the figure pulled. Instantly, the cloak fell apart like waves splashing onto the beach shores. He almost held his breath at the unwrapped being. It was a woman, approximately in her late teens. Or so it seemed. She had high cheekbones that went exquisitely well with her firm jaws and chin. Thick rich locks of red hair sat stylishly around her bare shoulders with its fringes tapering at the ends. Upon her forehead, she had a golden triangular object that Muraki had no idea what it was meant for. In her white dress-like outfit, Muraki saw her athletic built legs that were exposed due to the deliberate side cuts of her outfit. Approvingly, Muraki nodded. For the plans he intended for her to accomplish, speed and agility were essential. When he glanced down her knee length boots, he frowned at the heels. However, he quickly dismissed it. He didn't care about women's fashion, just as long they get the work done.

 

Yet, there was one thing he adored. That was her belt made of tiny skulls. No doubt these decorations were fragile in nature, the occult details were intriguing to his eyes. Noticing the fangs, he wondered their origin. More importantly, the origin of this woman. Unlike normal humans, her skin was flawlessly lilac. The pupils in her eyes were white, making it impossible to determine if she was observing him as much he was to her.

 

 

 

“What is your name?” he asked.

 

“Mystique,” she replied for the first time, revealing a perfect set of human teeth from her rich purple lips.

 

“How charming.” He walked around, scrutinizing this unique individual. Like her name, there was an air of mystery that would puzzle the cleverest of the cleverest. Right now, the stench of it was suffocating. He decided to investigate. “Do you know why you are here?”

 

“I was told that the pay is good.”

 

“Indeed. And do you know why you are here?”

 

 

 

“Seventy two years ago, your late grandfather attended to a man named Asato Tsuzuki for eight years before he committed suicide. Although he had no money or any identification, your late grandfather took him in because he had something that no human being has.” Muraki found her confidence very captivating. “The ability of regenerating one's tissues or cells, thus, enabling one to live without the basic body needs. In the view of medicinal profession, that is the key to eternal life. Conversely, that is not your objective.” She moved towards the sofa. “What you want is a lot more than tissue samples.” She sat down, crossing one leg over the other. “And you know yourself that to achieve your goals would require assistance.”

 

 

 

“And you think you can assist me?” He sat on a chair opposite her. “How?”

 

“Like this.” Within a blink of an eye, she transformed. Muraki was almost taken back. Sitting on that sofa was no longer a woman but an exact duplicate of himself.

 

“It's like looking yourself in a mirror, isn't it?” said Mystique, lifting the left frock of her platinum silver hair, exposing a Vyborg eye.

 

“Excellent shape-shifting,” Muraki applauded. He pointed to his throat. “But the voice…”

 

“But the voice,” she echoed.

 

 

Muraki's brow arched. It was an equal match to his own. From his pocket, he took out a device and held it right in front of Mystique's eyes. The device released a thin green ray and scanned across. Seconds later, it beeped. Muraki read the results. He couldn't believe it. Reaching her hands, he scanned her fingertips. The device beeped once more. Again, he read the results.

 

 

 

“Impressive,” he sat down on his chair as calmly as possible. He knew he couldn't. His brain was tingling with excitement. Already, his nerve cells were generating new strategies.

 

“Then we have a deal?” she returned to her original self.

 

“Not yet. You haven't answered my question. Why are you here?”

 

“As I said before,” Her curled eyelashes moved upwards. “I heard the pay is good.”

 

“Fair enough,” he politely smiled. “How did you gain access to this information? Besides my butler, I am the only one.”

 

“With my abilities.” She titled her head sideways. “Anything is available at my disposal.”

 

 

 

 

Muraki gazed at her for a moment. Then, he gave a low chuckle. He soon parted his lips and laughed out a laughter so wicked that the angels would cover their ears and fled back to heaven. Mystique remained silent, resting her chin upon her fingers. There was a slight curl at the corner of her lips.

 

 

 

 

 

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“Tsuzuki, will you please?” said Hisoka impatiently. “This is the last time I'm saying this.”

 

“No, I can't!” Tsuzuki replied. “This is the last day that they are selling their special muffins. I can't go. I've got to get some. Plus, it's on twenty percent discount.”

 

“You already have some!”

 

“No, I don't!”

 

“That's because you ate them all!” Hisoka protested loudly. “And this is the fifth time we are queuing!”

 

“But it tastes so good!” Tsuzuki squealed like a five-year-old.

 

“It's only banana, pecans, chocolate chips and a bit of coffee flavour!” Hisoka exclaimed. “Get any muffin recipe book and you can produce the same results. Look. They use the same ingredients. Flour, milk, melted butter, egg, vanilla extracts, mashed banana, pecans and chocolate chips. The steps to make it never change. Preheat the oven. Sift the flour, sugar and salt. Whisk the milk, melted butter, egg and mashed banana. Fold them into the dry ingredients, along with the pecans and chocolate chips. Put them into the muffin tray into the oven… oh wait. Why am I telling you this?” He pretended to look baffled. “Oh I know, you can't bake! Much less cook a decent meal.”

 

“I'm improving!” Tsuzuki objected. “Besides, they might be using a special ingredient that sets it apart from the others.”

 

“Special ingredient, yeah right,” Hisoka muttered under his breath. “Wait till Tetsumii show us the bill. Out of the all the shinigamis, we are the only ones who spend hundred bucks on muffins!”

 

“Okay okay… this will be the last time. I promise.” He clapped his hands together and gave Hisoka his cutest puppy look. “Okay? Please?”

“Ooo… Fine! Whatever!” Hisoka helplessly threw his hands up in the air. “You win.”

 

“Thank you!” Tsuzuki squealed girlishly, giving him a big teddy bear hug. “You're the best!”

 

“Get off of me!” Hisoka roughly pushed him away. “You want people to think we are gays?”

 

“But we are partners,” he said saucily.

 

“Partners as in meaning that we are colleagues,” retorted Hisoka, aware that passer-bys were darting distributing looks at them. “Listen. While you line up for the muffins, I'll be at the bookstore around that corner.” He pointed. “Okay?”

 

“Okay!” replied Tsuzuki cheerfully.

 

 

 

 

 

It took Hisoka his entire mental strength to curb his urge to punch him in the kisser. Instead, he pulled up his collar and made his way to the bookstore. He should have known that it was a mistake for them to enter the marketplace. Either way, it was inevitable. The marketplace was one of the vital areas for their patrolling duties. Patrolling? He strained a smile. Since when did they become policeman? Nevertheless, they had to be on their guard. Speaking of that, it had been quite a while since they last heard of Muraki. Ten years to be exact. Ten years… Was time equally fast for both mortals and immortals? On the positive side, it did give him time to master new skills and control a few netherworld creatures. At least, he could safely assure himself that he could defend himself without Tsuzuki's help. Hisoka felt a sense of pride swelling up in him. Now, he understood the pride of tribal boys whenever they successfully finished their ritual to manhood. It made him all grown up, on par with the others. He had no other words to describe it except three.

 

 

 

 

 

It felt great.

 

 

 

 

 

Then, a frantic scream interrupted his thoughts. Immediately, he detected that it was coming a few blocks away. He was about to teleport when a thought came to his mind. Did Tsuzuki hear it as well? He turned. Should he get him? He heard the scream again. He turned back. Rats! There wasn't enough time. He went into an empty street, the ones that deliverymen used to unload their goods to the surrounding shops. After making sure that there was nobody, he teleport.

 

 

 

 

In a flash, he found himself in a street alley. Surveying the area, he tried to sense of the source of the scream. He heard it again. Running to the source, Hisoka hoped that Tsuzuki would have the decency to sacrifice his muffins. Hell. Why was he thinking about such trivial things? He could handle this all by himself. Spinning around a corner, he saw them - a group of shady monsters hovering over a schoolgirl. Despite her fear of those foul beings, she saw him.

 

 

 

 

“Help!” the girl cried out to him. “Help me, please!”

 

 

 

 

As he drew a symbol in the air, lavender misty wisps encircled around Hisoka's hands as they formed into a bow. Drawing back the strings, an arrow materialized. When his knuckles gazed at the angle of his jaw, he released. The arrow flew, spitting itself numerously. The arrows struck the monsters, turning them to ashes. Their dying howling faded into the distance.

 

 

“Are you alright?” Hisoka approached the trembling girl. “Were you hurt?”

 

“No,” she replied as he helped her to her feet. “Oh, thank you.” She hugged him. Hisoka could feel her bosom pressing against his. A weird sensation warmed his cheeks. “How can I ever repay you?”

 

“Ah… ah… it was nothing,” he stammered. “I just happened to be around. Anyway,” he hurriedly changed the subject. “What were you doing here? It isn't safe for you to be by yourself.”

 

“I don't know.” She took out a yellow envelope. “I met a man in the marketplace and he asked me to deliver this here.”

 

“A man?” asked Hisoka, frowning

 

“Oh yes.” There was a dreamy glint in her eyes. “He was such a handsome man. All dressed in white. With silver platinum hair…”

 

“In white? Silver… Oh god! Muraki!” He snatched the envelope. Just as when he thought he had enough of that sadistic doctor.

 

“Hey! What are you doing?” the girl protested.

 

 

 

 

“Stay back,” Hisoka ordered. Ripping the top edge, he slipped his fingers inside and took an object. It was a white rectangular piece of paper. Flipping it backwards, he found nothing. The paper was completely clean. “Strange.” He took a closer look at the paper.

 

 

No sooner, he did that. Dark red symbols surfaced on the paper. Before he could do anything, an excruciating pain zoomed into his body, shutting down all the nerves of his body. Through evoking flashes of black and white, he thought he saw the girl's skin went lilac. Unable to endure the pain, he collapsed to the ground and passed out.

 

 

 

 

 

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Munching into a muffin, Tsuzuki made his way to the bookstore where Hisoka was supposed to meet him. He took another bite. He couldn't help it. The muffins were absolutely fabulous. They were worth every single bit of scolding that Tetsumii's tongue would lash out. His eyes caught the `No-eating' sign. He heaved a sigh. It was a lucky thing that he stopped. Otherwise, Hisoka would give him another piece of his mind. Licking the crumbs off his fingers, he took another muffin from the paper bag. Fortunately for him, he need not worry about calories intake and the dreadful fear of obesity.

 

Suddenly, he sensed a dark presence. He sharply turned around. He saw no one suspicious. Putting the muffin back into the paper bag, he began to examine the surroundings. Someone was spying on him. It had been a while since anyone dared to do that. Thankfully, Tetsumii's constant drilling prevented him from getting rusty. Darting his eyes all over, he then caught a glimpse of someone standing at the rooftop of a building not far from he was. Straining his eyes, he saw someone in a white trench coat. He recognised that coat and there was only one person who only wore that tacky design.

 

“Muraki!” he hissed, preparing himself for a battle. To his surprise, he saw Muraki stretching out his arm, pointing his fingers to the west. He mouthed:

 

 

“My long lost puppet is coming back to me.”

 

 

“Puppet?” Tsuzuki questioned. A cold realization crept into him. “No… Hisoka!” His hands gripped the muffin bag. “Darn! I can't bring them along.” He spotted a child in front of him. Shoving the bag into her tiny hands, he clumsily said. “Here, share this with your friends!” Not wanting to waste another second, he teleported right in front of her eyes.

 

Staring blankly, the child blinked her eyes several times before she convinced herself that she was dreaming. Taking a look in the bag, she found the infamous muffins. Helping herself to one, she took a bite. Once the scrumptious taste had taken over her senses, she forgot about the strange incident and went on her way.

 

 

Arriving at the destination, Tsuzuki tried to detect Hisoka's presence. He couldn't. Spinning around the empty streets, he saw Hisoka lying limply on the ground, in a pool of blood. In his hand, a burnt shred of paper. Pressing his fingers on his neck, he checked for a pulse. It was weak but steady. Hisoka's eyes started to flicker.

 

“Stay with me, Hisoka,” said Tsuzuki, gently lifting him into his arms.

 

“Muraki…” he croaked from his blood stained lips.

 

“I know. So much for keeping ourselves on guard.”

 

 

Suddenly, a bony hand shot out from the stoned grounds, then another and another, spreading like a plague. With a monstrous pull, one disfigured skeleton heaved itself out of the grounds. Earthworms and creatures of the underworld crawled out from its bony cage. Very soon, more of its foul fiends stood by its side. In a military fashion, they marched towards the two shinigamis. Tusuzki saw red.

 

 

“In this all you can do, Muraki? Out of the twelve shikigamis, elemental guardian of the flame. Spread your wings and burn them to ashes. I command thee!”

 

 

 

 

A fiery hurricane merged out from Tsuzuki's body. Surfacing, a magnificent bird stretched out her wings, spanning the sun orange feathers as wide as the ocean. As it flew, fireballs pelted from her wings and landed onto the skeletons. One by one, the skeletons succumbed to its inferno heat. It happened so rapidly that the two didn't have time to see them burning. Finally, there was nothing except for a charred area.

 

“Enough playing, Muraki.” Tsuzuki shouted, keeping a sharp lookout. “Come out and show yourself!”

 

 

“He's gone,” coughed Hisoka. “He's…”

 

 

 

 

Before he could finish, he rolled up his eyes and lay unconscious in the hook of his arm. From the corner of Hisoka's sleeve, Tsuzuki saw something. Pulling up the sleeve, he saw fiendish red lines spreading throughout the boy's body, its monstrous sharpness meticulously covering any inch of his tender skin.

 

 

 

 

To be continued…