Crescent Shrine
三
“Me, be a healer for your team at the Dark Tournament?” I laughed leaning on the main doors to the shrine, “I don’t even know who the hell you arm.”
“I am Koenma from the Spirit World. I decide which part of Spirit World they should go to once they die.” He said stiffly.
I turned to walk away, “I may be a priestess but I don’t believe in all that mumbo jumbo.”
“That wasn’t a dream.” He said his eyes boring into my back, “That demon was real. You drank demon blood.” I stopped in my steps. How did he know about my dream, I mean experience.
“How did you know that?” I asked turning my head towards him slightly.
“Your family and I go farther back then you think. I’ll give you until tomorrow to decide on what you’ll do. Hopefully you make the right choice.” Koenma nodded as he turned to walk back down the large steps. I sighed, closing the large sliding door. If this ‘Koenma’ knew my parent’s I’d have to ask them, because there was no one in Japan who wore a turban.
I padded across the light lumber steps into the low dinning room. My parents sat on the cushions, my mother patting some rice into my bowl. I knelt down on the opposite side of the table of my father; my mother passed the bowl into my delicate hands.
“Who was that at the door Ann?” My mother asked as I sprinkled soy sauce lightly onto the rice.
“Just some crazy teenager in a turban wanting me to be the medic for a tournament,” I shrugged, shovelling some rice into my mouth.
“Did he give you his name?” My Mother asked, setting her tea cup down. My Father had stopped eating to listen.
“Koenma or something – claimed to be in charge of where people go after they die.” I said, sipping on my tea, “He’s just some loony.”
“Did he give you the name of the tournament?” My Father asked, leaning over the table a tad.
“The Dark Tournament or something,” I said, setting my tea back onto the coaster.
“You’re going,” The two said simply. My jaw fell before my Mother continued, “We’ll contact a friend of ours in Spirit World to take you there since the boat’s leaving in an hour and there’s no possible way we would make it there in time.”
“Are you two psychotic?” I asked, rising to my feet. The portrait of my Great-Great-Great Grandmother, Rio, fell behind the cutlery cabinet with a loud thud. I turned on my heel to exit the room.
“Ann, get back here and finish your meal.” My Father yelled after me.
“I’m not hungry.” I growled, padding up the steps and disappearing beyond the front door.
“I am Koenma from the Spirit World. I decide which part of Spirit World they should go to once they die.” He said stiffly.
I turned to walk away, “I may be a priestess but I don’t believe in all that mumbo jumbo.”
“That wasn’t a dream.” He said his eyes boring into my back, “That demon was real. You drank demon blood.” I stopped in my steps. How did he know about my dream, I mean experience.
“How did you know that?” I asked turning my head towards him slightly.
“Your family and I go farther back then you think. I’ll give you until tomorrow to decide on what you’ll do. Hopefully you make the right choice.” Koenma nodded as he turned to walk back down the large steps. I sighed, closing the large sliding door. If this ‘Koenma’ knew my parent’s I’d have to ask them, because there was no one in Japan who wore a turban.
I padded across the light lumber steps into the low dinning room. My parents sat on the cushions, my mother patting some rice into my bowl. I knelt down on the opposite side of the table of my father; my mother passed the bowl into my delicate hands.
“Who was that at the door Ann?” My mother asked as I sprinkled soy sauce lightly onto the rice.
“Just some crazy teenager in a turban wanting me to be the medic for a tournament,” I shrugged, shovelling some rice into my mouth.
“Did he give you his name?” My Mother asked, setting her tea cup down. My Father had stopped eating to listen.
“Koenma or something – claimed to be in charge of where people go after they die.” I said, sipping on my tea, “He’s just some loony.”
“Did he give you the name of the tournament?” My Father asked, leaning over the table a tad.
“The Dark Tournament or something,” I said, setting my tea back onto the coaster.
“You’re going,” The two said simply. My jaw fell before my Mother continued, “We’ll contact a friend of ours in Spirit World to take you there since the boat’s leaving in an hour and there’s no possible way we would make it there in time.”
“Are you two psychotic?” I asked, rising to my feet. The portrait of my Great-Great-Great Grandmother, Rio, fell behind the cutlery cabinet with a loud thud. I turned on my heel to exit the room.
“Ann, get back here and finish your meal.” My Father yelled after me.
“I’m not hungry.” I growled, padding up the steps and disappearing beyond the front door.