[Yami no Matsuei] "Yami no Meta: The Marisuu" (PG-13)
Author's Note: Written for "fic_promptly"'s Any, any, oh is it you, Mary Sue? WARNING: Crack ahead! And typological fail, leading to Wall of Text Syndrome and internal author's notes. This is meant to be a somewhat snarkily affectionate parody of the dreaded Mary Sue, or in this case, since it's a fic based in a Japanese medium, a Marisuu. Also, I ROT TIHS WEN I WAS HI ON GREEEN TEEEEE!!!1111eleventy.
Midori Tsuzuki banged on the door to Kou Kaku Rou. "Open up! I know Muraki is in there, let me in!" she yelled, knocking again, even louder. She'd come all the way to Kyoto from Los Angeles, ditching her dumb desk job at the Ministry of Hades's American division, where she was one of the youngest shinigami (age twelve when she'd died, of a bad cold, after no one would listen to her dire stories about her evil creepy math teacher who looked at her funny when she didn't finish her assignments; she claimed the guy had pedophile written all over him, though supposedly he had a clean record. The worst ones always did.). "You have to let me in!" She stood there for a moment, pushing her long, golden tresses back behind her pointed ears (she's half-Elf and related to Legolas [Author's Note: Does this make it a crossover???]) The door finally opened and a tall, long-haired guy in a kimono looked out, irritated. "We're closed, and we don't take gaijin like you," he said, starting to close the door. "I know you've got Muraki in there: you have to let me see him," she demanded. "Yeah, well, who the hell are you?" the tall guy demanded. "That's none of your business, I have to see Muraki," she snapped, pushing past him and stomping down the hallway toward the inner rooms, disregarding the tatami floors entirely.
After opening several doors (and seeing things that made her want to take a Brillo pad and some brain bleach to her head), she found a spacious room at the back of the house, overlooking the river behind it. Muraki sat before a wide open window, eating a bowl of soup, Or he would have been, if he wasn't glaring at her with his one good silvery-grey eye. He was better-looking than she'd imagined, but he could use a make-over: that white suit just washed out his already pale complexion. "You've got company, Kazu-kun," the guy in the kimono said (he'd followed her down the hallway [Author's Note: Does anyone remember Kimono-Guy's name?]). "Tell her to go away, I'm eating supper: I'm having go-to-hell soup," Muraki snapped. "You're the one that's going to hell, Muraki, for what you did to Tsuzuki," she said, whipping out a gun and pointing it at Muraki's head. He stared at the gun, then looked at her and set the bowl of soup aside. "How like an American, waving firearms around, when I don't think we've been introduced," he said, calmly, even smirking at her. "I'm Mariko Tsuzuki, I'm Asato Tsuzuki's grand-niece by his brother Yukio, the one that survived the fire and became another shinigami, except he stayed on earth and married a mortal woman who turned out to be an Elf from Middle Earth and had a family. I'm a shinigami, too, and I'm taking you into custody."
Muraki stared at her, then taking off his rimless glasses, he covered one side of his face with one long-fingered, graceful hand (he takes good care of them: he's a surgeon, after all). She expected him to burst into tears of remorse and beg her forgiveness and swear he'd reform his evil ways since he'd fallen madly in love with her on the spot. Instead, he burst out laughing like she'd just told him the craziest story ever. "You'll have to excuse me, Miss Tsuzuki. or should I say, Miss Marisuu," he said. "But that's the most absurd drivel I've ever heard. I can read you like a book, and you don't read anything like what you' say that you are." She glared at him. "I've got my shields up so you can't read me," she snapped. "You don't have those, either. Here's a phrase to add to your limited and childish vocabulary: 'energy vampire'. Because that's what I am," he said. "Huh? They didn't mention that in the anime," she snapped. "You're just making that up." "Unfortunately for you, but fortunately for me, I'm not.making it up," he said. She whipped out a crucifix, then remembered that scene in the anime, where Muraki first appeared: he was in a church after all, so that wasn't going to work. Instead he smirked at her and rose to his feet. "So what are you going to do? Bite me and drink my blood?" Maybe he could turn her: it might be cool to be an Elf-shinigami-vampire. "Nothing of the sort: I don't have to drink blood in order to sustain myself, and even if I wanted to, I wouldn't. Your energy has a sickeningly sweet tang to it, like a glass of lemonade with candy-floss dissolved in it," he said. "So what are you going to do?" she demanded. Maybe he was going to experiment on her: she had violet eyes like Tsuzuki's after all. "Oh, nothing much, merely show you out," he said. And reaching out, he grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and pushed out the window. Oh no, she was going to drown! Maybe he'd have a change of heart and rush out to save her and then confess his love to her...
Instead, she hit the muddy bank, dirtying up her tight, low-cut blouse and her brand-new denim mini-skirt and ripping her fishnet stockings in the process. Yuck!
"You should have let me handle her, Muraki," she heard Kimono-Guy's gruff voice say. "I'd have put her in the place: make her work in the kitchen to pay for the tatami her high heeled shoes tore up."
"No, Oriya-kun, that would only have gratified her vanity: she'd just sit down and write a story about what a cruel master you are and how she wins you over through the power of True Love," Muraki replied, putting a sarcastic drawl on the last two words. "There are some pests one has to defeat by keeping control of the situation and by *not* playing into their hands. A Marisuu is one of them: a well-placed snark is the best weapon."
Midori Tsuzuki banged on the door to Kou Kaku Rou. "Open up! I know Muraki is in there, let me in!" she yelled, knocking again, even louder. She'd come all the way to Kyoto from Los Angeles, ditching her dumb desk job at the Ministry of Hades's American division, where she was one of the youngest shinigami (age twelve when she'd died, of a bad cold, after no one would listen to her dire stories about her evil creepy math teacher who looked at her funny when she didn't finish her assignments; she claimed the guy had pedophile written all over him, though supposedly he had a clean record. The worst ones always did.). "You have to let me in!" She stood there for a moment, pushing her long, golden tresses back behind her pointed ears (she's half-Elf and related to Legolas [Author's Note: Does this make it a crossover???]) The door finally opened and a tall, long-haired guy in a kimono looked out, irritated. "We're closed, and we don't take gaijin like you," he said, starting to close the door. "I know you've got Muraki in there: you have to let me see him," she demanded. "Yeah, well, who the hell are you?" the tall guy demanded. "That's none of your business, I have to see Muraki," she snapped, pushing past him and stomping down the hallway toward the inner rooms, disregarding the tatami floors entirely.
After opening several doors (and seeing things that made her want to take a Brillo pad and some brain bleach to her head), she found a spacious room at the back of the house, overlooking the river behind it. Muraki sat before a wide open window, eating a bowl of soup, Or he would have been, if he wasn't glaring at her with his one good silvery-grey eye. He was better-looking than she'd imagined, but he could use a make-over: that white suit just washed out his already pale complexion. "You've got company, Kazu-kun," the guy in the kimono said (he'd followed her down the hallway [Author's Note: Does anyone remember Kimono-Guy's name?]). "Tell her to go away, I'm eating supper: I'm having go-to-hell soup," Muraki snapped. "You're the one that's going to hell, Muraki, for what you did to Tsuzuki," she said, whipping out a gun and pointing it at Muraki's head. He stared at the gun, then looked at her and set the bowl of soup aside. "How like an American, waving firearms around, when I don't think we've been introduced," he said, calmly, even smirking at her. "I'm Mariko Tsuzuki, I'm Asato Tsuzuki's grand-niece by his brother Yukio, the one that survived the fire and became another shinigami, except he stayed on earth and married a mortal woman who turned out to be an Elf from Middle Earth and had a family. I'm a shinigami, too, and I'm taking you into custody."
Muraki stared at her, then taking off his rimless glasses, he covered one side of his face with one long-fingered, graceful hand (he takes good care of them: he's a surgeon, after all). She expected him to burst into tears of remorse and beg her forgiveness and swear he'd reform his evil ways since he'd fallen madly in love with her on the spot. Instead, he burst out laughing like she'd just told him the craziest story ever. "You'll have to excuse me, Miss Tsuzuki. or should I say, Miss Marisuu," he said. "But that's the most absurd drivel I've ever heard. I can read you like a book, and you don't read anything like what you' say that you are." She glared at him. "I've got my shields up so you can't read me," she snapped. "You don't have those, either. Here's a phrase to add to your limited and childish vocabulary: 'energy vampire'. Because that's what I am," he said. "Huh? They didn't mention that in the anime," she snapped. "You're just making that up." "Unfortunately for you, but fortunately for me, I'm not.making it up," he said. She whipped out a crucifix, then remembered that scene in the anime, where Muraki first appeared: he was in a church after all, so that wasn't going to work. Instead he smirked at her and rose to his feet. "So what are you going to do? Bite me and drink my blood?" Maybe he could turn her: it might be cool to be an Elf-shinigami-vampire. "Nothing of the sort: I don't have to drink blood in order to sustain myself, and even if I wanted to, I wouldn't. Your energy has a sickeningly sweet tang to it, like a glass of lemonade with candy-floss dissolved in it," he said. "So what are you going to do?" she demanded. Maybe he was going to experiment on her: she had violet eyes like Tsuzuki's after all. "Oh, nothing much, merely show you out," he said. And reaching out, he grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and pushed out the window. Oh no, she was going to drown! Maybe he'd have a change of heart and rush out to save her and then confess his love to her...
Instead, she hit the muddy bank, dirtying up her tight, low-cut blouse and her brand-new denim mini-skirt and ripping her fishnet stockings in the process. Yuck!
"You should have let me handle her, Muraki," she heard Kimono-Guy's gruff voice say. "I'd have put her in the place: make her work in the kitchen to pay for the tatami her high heeled shoes tore up."
"No, Oriya-kun, that would only have gratified her vanity: she'd just sit down and write a story about what a cruel master you are and how she wins you over through the power of True Love," Muraki replied, putting a sarcastic drawl on the last two words. "There are some pests one has to defeat by keeping control of the situation and by *not* playing into their hands. A Marisuu is one of them: a well-placed snark is the best weapon."