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Disclaimers: This story doesn't belong to me. It belongs to my good friend Mimi-chan. You got problems, take them up with her. Neither she nor I own the various hot guys in this story.
She hurried along behind the black robed figures at midnight that night. She was in trouble. The whole town had turned out to see the Priestesses of Shinigami walk among them, and she, a lowly shrine maiden, had botched it. They entered the temple. She stopped and waited behind a tree. Please don’t let anyone see me. Please don’t let anyone see me. She prayed silently.
Her prayers went unanswered. “What are you doing?” a boy with slicked back black hair said. “You can’t follow the priestesses.”
“I wasn’t,” she answered, flustered. “Please, I was only trying to go home.”
“You can’t go home,” said another boy, coming up behind him. He was sullen. His dark hair obscured his right eye.
“But I must,” she insisted. “I am late. I am a shrine maiden at the temple.”
“You might be in trouble,” said the blonde headed boy that appeared at her shoulder.
“I am in ever so much,” she replied.
“Wait a bit,” the black-haired one said. “It would be unfair to punish you harshly for such a minor transgression, but it would be worse on you, if you ruined this event.”
She nodded. “You’re right,” she told him.
She waited there with the three boys until the priestesses had all disappeared into the temple of Shinigami. “I must go now,” she said.
“I hope everything goes well,” said the blonde.
She pressed his hand. “I shall never forget this,” she said.
She made her way into the temple. The halls were silent and dark. Only a single candle lit either side. She turned into her room, and met face to face with the hooded figures. She took in her breath in one sharp gasp. Three stepped toward her. She started to inch backward, but the door slammed behind her. One figure removed her hood. “Hi, Mimi-chan,” said a girl with dark-brown hair that reached down her back. “You are finally here. We were worried.” She smiled to reveal long, sharp, pointed teeth.
This is the one that I have heard about. Mimi thought. This is the deadly dragon. The Seki-no-Miko. Mimi’s lower lip began to tremble. Another figure advanced toward her and removed the hood. It was a boy with dark hair and a harsh expression in his eyes. He cocked a gun, and held it levelly aimed at her head.
“You revealed yourself,” he said.
She nodded.
“You must now die,” he continued.
“Please, no, Shinigami-sama.” She pleaded with him.
The third put his arm to the boy’s shoulder, and removed his hood. The third was also a boy, with a honey colored braid that reached down his back and brilliant purple eyes. “No, Heero,” he said. “I don’t think that’s really necessary. Do me a favor and leave the death to me.”
The boy rolled his eyes, but put the gun someplace in his vast robes.
The boy with the honey-colored hair approached her.
“Gomen-nasai, Shinigami-sama,” she cried, dropping to her knees.
He lifted her chin and brushed the tears from her eyes. “I am Duo Maxwell,” he said. “What’s your name?”
Her lower lip trembled. “My name is Mimi,” she replied.
“Well, Mimi,” he told her, “I am Shinigami, god of death, as well as just your average, devilishly attractive fifteen year old guy. I think I can forgive you just this once.” He winked at her, and then replaced his hood.
The others followed his example and began to file out of her room. “Goodnight, Duo Maxwell,” she whispered, as he exited, brushing past her. He was the last in the room.
“Goodnight, Mimi,” he said.