[Fanfiction] [Death Note] Mr. Mysterious
Title: Mr. Mysterious (The Story she Saved for him)
Author: Dark Hooded Eriol the Magician
Series: Death Note
Rating: T
Genre: Romance/Humor
Status: Complete
Published: 03-09-09
Notes: xposted everywhere. Hi! This is slated to be a short chaptered fanfic for my OTP, LxMisa. Beware of AU, OOC and sweet fluff. You’ve been warned. Feedback required and appreciated. :)
Chapter I: The Story She Saved for Him
They were strangers.
She didn’t know him. Neither did him. What they didn’t know was that it changed their lives that fateful afternoon.
Blue-eyed and blonde-haired, she skipped out of her agency’s building with a smile. It was a pleasantly warm spring day. The blue sky was so blue it was reflected in her eyes. Dressed in a black dress with layers of frilly petticoats with swinging golden ponytails, she was an epitome of youth and beauty.
She had just signed a major record deal. The world was at her feet. Her dreams of superstardom were going to come true. With a deep breath she stepped out into the sunshine to face the world.
Did she know that in less than a second, a car was careening uncontrollably down the street? Was she aware of the fact that in an exhalation of breath, a blink of an eye she could be hit?
No, she wasn’t.
Sometimes ignorance was fatal.
Someone was watching her with all-knowing eyes.
The universe was wrapped in his hand. Time and space couldn’t be manipulated but a lifespan could be. It was their given power anyway. He was no angel, no red-cheeked cherubim or singing seraph. His hands were the dirtiest of all of Heaven; he was a death god.
But to write down the name of this girl, this beautiful blonde angel was the death of him. All of them knew that. To kill for another’s sake was a violation of rules. To sacrifice him in the name of something bigger and more powerful was the noblest action that he could take.
Dying for real this time seemed like a good idea. Wasn’t self-sacrifice one of those great and beautiful things that could lift him out of this purgatory?
Jealous the shinigami knew what he had to do.
With a strike of his pen, he saved this girl. What did it matter that he put someone else’s life on the line? What was it to him that he’d irrevocably changed the whole course of fate with his meddling? What did he care if he could just see her smile just one more time?
He started to disintegrate.
Everything happened.
oOoOoOo
He walked down the street carrying a brown paper bag of croissants. It was warm on his hand; it smelled like sugar, butter and lovely memories of France. He liked the sensation of sunshine on his skin. He actually liked walking on the street.
The first time he went out on his own on the real world. That was definitely something. His mentor and master would have fits of laughter. He couldn’t wait to share the bag of croissants.
His ears picked up the sound of screeching tires. Dark brown eyes looked up to see a bright red car running without control down the street. The car must have lost control of its brakes. It was going to crash.
He saw a flash of gold, a glimpse of black. There was a foolish girl who was going to cross the street! The brown paper bag tasted dust.
It was unprecedented, unexpected. How noble, he thought calmly as he ran faster than his feet had ever carried him before. He was aware of his quick breaths, the sweat trickling on his forehead and the hot pavement under his shoes. The sun beat down on him. Time slowed down.
A pale long-fingered hand reached out to catch her arm. He watched it move with admirable detachment as he seemed to fly through the air. His fingers caught her arm- soft, smooth, bronzed- and yanked.
She yelled. He yelled back.
The red car was coming.
She was still standing there, glaring at him.
He was suddenly exasperated as he tried to explain. There’s no time. He was so preoccupied he didn’t see it coming.
L. Lawliet wondered vaguely what he was thinking when he pushed her out of the way. She collapsed backwards on the sidewalk, ponytails flying. He saw delicate black boots point heavenwards, blue eyes flashing with rage.
She was very pretty when she’s mad.
Screeching tires, hard hit and then there was darkness.
They were strangers. She didn’t know him. Neither did him. It happened too fast. It was all too much.
She ran forward.
Noises! There was too much noise going on around her! But she tuned them out as she knelt down beside her mysterious and bleeding savior who was lying on his back like a startled spider. She couldn’t stop herself from shaking.
She noticed that the red blood looked very pretty against his snow-white skin.
Amane Misa’s life changed that fateful afternoon when she was saved by a stranger.
Author: Dark Hooded Eriol the Magician
Series: Death Note
Rating: T
Genre: Romance/Humor
Status: Complete
Published: 03-09-09
Notes: xposted everywhere. Hi! This is slated to be a short chaptered fanfic for my OTP, LxMisa. Beware of AU, OOC and sweet fluff. You’ve been warned. Feedback required and appreciated. :)
Chapter I: The Story She Saved for Him
They were strangers.
She didn’t know him. Neither did him. What they didn’t know was that it changed their lives that fateful afternoon.
Blue-eyed and blonde-haired, she skipped out of her agency’s building with a smile. It was a pleasantly warm spring day. The blue sky was so blue it was reflected in her eyes. Dressed in a black dress with layers of frilly petticoats with swinging golden ponytails, she was an epitome of youth and beauty.
She had just signed a major record deal. The world was at her feet. Her dreams of superstardom were going to come true. With a deep breath she stepped out into the sunshine to face the world.
Did she know that in less than a second, a car was careening uncontrollably down the street? Was she aware of the fact that in an exhalation of breath, a blink of an eye she could be hit?
No, she wasn’t.
Sometimes ignorance was fatal.
Someone was watching her with all-knowing eyes.
The universe was wrapped in his hand. Time and space couldn’t be manipulated but a lifespan could be. It was their given power anyway. He was no angel, no red-cheeked cherubim or singing seraph. His hands were the dirtiest of all of Heaven; he was a death god.
But to write down the name of this girl, this beautiful blonde angel was the death of him. All of them knew that. To kill for another’s sake was a violation of rules. To sacrifice him in the name of something bigger and more powerful was the noblest action that he could take.
Dying for real this time seemed like a good idea. Wasn’t self-sacrifice one of those great and beautiful things that could lift him out of this purgatory?
Jealous the shinigami knew what he had to do.
With a strike of his pen, he saved this girl. What did it matter that he put someone else’s life on the line? What was it to him that he’d irrevocably changed the whole course of fate with his meddling? What did he care if he could just see her smile just one more time?
He started to disintegrate.
Everything happened.
oOoOoOo
He walked down the street carrying a brown paper bag of croissants. It was warm on his hand; it smelled like sugar, butter and lovely memories of France. He liked the sensation of sunshine on his skin. He actually liked walking on the street.
The first time he went out on his own on the real world. That was definitely something. His mentor and master would have fits of laughter. He couldn’t wait to share the bag of croissants.
His ears picked up the sound of screeching tires. Dark brown eyes looked up to see a bright red car running without control down the street. The car must have lost control of its brakes. It was going to crash.
He saw a flash of gold, a glimpse of black. There was a foolish girl who was going to cross the street! The brown paper bag tasted dust.
It was unprecedented, unexpected. How noble, he thought calmly as he ran faster than his feet had ever carried him before. He was aware of his quick breaths, the sweat trickling on his forehead and the hot pavement under his shoes. The sun beat down on him. Time slowed down.
A pale long-fingered hand reached out to catch her arm. He watched it move with admirable detachment as he seemed to fly through the air. His fingers caught her arm- soft, smooth, bronzed- and yanked.
She yelled. He yelled back.
The red car was coming.
She was still standing there, glaring at him.
He was suddenly exasperated as he tried to explain. There’s no time. He was so preoccupied he didn’t see it coming.
L. Lawliet wondered vaguely what he was thinking when he pushed her out of the way. She collapsed backwards on the sidewalk, ponytails flying. He saw delicate black boots point heavenwards, blue eyes flashing with rage.
She was very pretty when she’s mad.
Screeching tires, hard hit and then there was darkness.
They were strangers. She didn’t know him. Neither did him. It happened too fast. It was all too much.
She ran forward.
Noises! There was too much noise going on around her! But she tuned them out as she knelt down beside her mysterious and bleeding savior who was lying on his back like a startled spider. She couldn’t stop herself from shaking.
She noticed that the red blood looked very pretty against his snow-white skin.
Amane Misa’s life changed that fateful afternoon when she was saved by a stranger.