BY : PoisonedWine
Category: Descendents of Darkness/Yami No Matsuei > AU - Alternate Universe
Dragon prints: 1756
Disclaimer: I do not own Descendants of Darkness (Yami no Matsuei), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Title: Oh Shiznats
Disclaimer: I don’t own a zoo, I don’t own a car, I don’t even own a bike. How the hell do you people expect me to own Yami no Matsuei?!
Warnings: Er, in the prologue? Uuuh ... lots of words?

Well, upon searching through the YnM stories, I couldn’t find ‘Oh Shiznats’, which is my old, old Oriya/Muraki fic from probably about two years ago. I then come to realize that I’ve been completely deleted from the site, for no apparent reason. Two weeks ago I was a member. Now I’m not. And I didn’t get any e-mails from them or anything telling me I’d been deleted. Rudeasses.

In short, I decided to re-post it. But! I really really suggest you read it now, even if you’ve read it before! Cause I’ve gone through it, fixed (hopefully) all of the stupid mistakes, AND I’ve revised it and made it even better than before.

So please! Read it! Enjoy it! It’s the NEW and IMPROVED ‘Oh Shiznats’! Enjoy!

Hah. Hi again. I edited it AGAIN. So Yeah. Because I have nothing better to do with my life.


Oh Shiznats

To any passing stranger, especially if they so happened to be under the age of ten, the white figure looming just out of the light of the street lamp probably would have been passed off as a ghost. But then again, what young child would be out this late at night– and in this part of the city? However, there’s little doubt that some adults would have passed this mysterious figure off as an apparition as well, for it gave no movement, save for the flickering of its one visible eye every now and then. It didn’t matter either way, really. No one passed this part of town this late at night anyway.

Muraki waited patiently, as he was accustomed to doing on nights such as these, but sighed in spite of himself. He really would much rather be home in his nice large, comfy apartment at the moment, sleeping in his wonderfully soft and exquisite bed. He did have to be up for work in the morning, after all. Did these people think he was made of time?!

But soon enough the phantom-like man could hear the heavy footfalls coming toward him, and he slipped his slim hand into the pocket of his white trench coat, (which he had affectionately named ‘trenchy,’ though he would never tell anyone, and anyone who did happen to find out would most certainly die a terribly bloody death,) and secured his pale fingers around the piece of thick yellow parchment hidden within its folds. As the footfalls grew closer, the distinct ‘clink’-ing of metal chains could be distinguished. Soon three figures entered the ring of light supplied by the flickering street lamp, it’s creamy off-white glow tossing shadows across their rough features.


A slightly irritated, yet still quite calm sigh came from the shadows just beyond the ring of light. “For the last time,” a voice followed, “it’s ‘Muraki-sama’ to you.”

“We’ll call you whatever the hell you want us to, if you got the security code,” the tallest of the three rough-looking figures replied.

“Of course I’ve got it,” the man snapped, then brought a hand up to inspect it nonchalantly. “Do you have the amount I asked for?”

“Uhuh,” was the sound the gangster-like man made to answer.

“Good,” Muraki smirked, even though they couldn’t tell. “Let me see.” The rough-looking man, named Haru, produced from the pocket of his own torn black baggy jeans a roll of money. Quite a hefty amount, one might add, but nothing over the top. Muraki wasn’t desperate for money by any means. His job payed him well enough, but it never hurt to add to the savings account. The white-clad man had always fancied the medical and scientific planes as well. He liked to have a bit of extra cash for spending on his experiments, which almost always turned up as a success.

He reached out and took the small roll of green from the man, counted the amount to make sure it was to his liking, and carefully tucked it away in his white-leather wallet. Next he removed the small yellow parchment from his pocket, and held it out for Haru to accept. “I told the owner we needed to run a maintenance check on the alarm systems. It wasn’t hard to retrieve the code. All I had to do was ask.” Haru greedily snatched up the parchment to look at the numbers written upon it in perfect script. The thief’s eyes almost shimmered with excitement.

“Nice doing business with you, Muraki-sama.”

“Hm,” was the only reply Muraki offered as he strode out into the night, back turned to the three men. Muraki Kazutaka always got what he wanted. It was then he remembered he had forgotten something. Quickly turning around, he asked “What is your name?”


“Ah. Very well then. Have a nice night– ” The white phantom paused for a moment, looking over the men, a scowl creeping across his face, before forcing out “...gentlemen.” And with that, Muraki turned his back on them for good. The man always got what he wanted. He had wanted the name, and now that he had it, he could have something else he desired very, very much. Something he had wanted for a very long time. A coy smirk played across the man’s ghost-like features as he continued walking. His patience had finally run out.

Well! Done with this one. Onto the next! Did you enjoy it?

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